Crystal Wing Academy: Book Two: Dragonsworn by Marty Mayberry

Author:Marty Mayberry [Mayberry, Marty]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hummingbird Press
Published: 2019-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

“So, um, Beatrice,” I said. “Can I ask you something?”

Our room’s brownie sat next to the bowl I’d filled with spaghetti. Extra sauce. Plenty of parm. She lifted a long strand of pasta into the air and inched it into her mouth. Munch, munch, munch, until her cheeks bulged. A swallow swept it away.

After glaring at the remaining strands in the bowl, she smacked her tiny lips. “Me likey more this next time.”

Nothing like treats to keep a brownie from turning into a boggart.

“You talking to me?” Patty asked, poking her head out the bathroom door, her mouth full of foam as she brushed her teeth.

“Nope,” I said. “Just mumbling to myself.” I was tempted to tell Patty about my investigation but if anyone got into trouble, it would only be me.

“K.” She ducked back into the bathroom, her electric toothbrush whirring.

“Beatrice.” I lowered my voice. “Can you tell me more about Sirra? The naiad.”

“Tricksy.” Another strand of spaghetti was eaten. I couldn’t figure out where she put it. She could consume more than me in one sitting yet was only about five inches tall.

“She sure is tricksy, as are her friends.”

“Sisters.”

Didn’t know that but it figured.

“Say someone needed a favor from Sirra,” I said. “How could they talk her into doing it for them?”

“Favor?” Patty ducked her head through the bathroom doorway again. She’d spread a purple mask on her face, an interesting combination with her bright pink hair—which was natural due to her part-pixie heritage. “You need a favor? You just ask.”

“Nope, just…mumbling to myself again.”

Crossing to my side, she laid her palm on my forehead. “You okay? Not coming down with anything, are you, ’cause I can ask my sisters, Prentiss and Pauline, to take a look at you. Or Christian, who’s also a healer.”

“No!” Calm down. “I feel fine.”

Her frown went on too long as she studied my face. “Okay.” She shook her finger at me. “One cough, and someone’ll flit here two seconds ago.” She darted back into the bathroom, calling out, “Yes, Alys, I’ll be done soon. Jeez!”

It sure wasn’t easy for four girls to share the same bathroom. I could only imagine how challenging it had been for Patty growing up with so many sisters.

Beatrice’s next strand of spaghetti halted mid-descent. “You tricksy, too.”

“Huh?”

“Tricksy with friend.”

Oh. Caught. She meant telling Patty I was talking to myself, not quizzing Beatrice for clues about Sirra. Wincing, I rubbed the back of my neck. “It was just a little fib.”

“Not so.”

“I’m sorry.” Heat rose in my face. “You’re right. I lied.”

She huffed and I had the feeling my fate wasn’t decided yet. Her tiny hand flicked toward the sole strand of pasta lying curled in the bowl. “More parm.”

I dumped a mound as big as a snowball on top.

She dipped a tongue-licked finger into the creamy fluff, then licked it off.

“So, back to getting on Sirra’s good side. Any ideas?” I asked.

“Ideas about what?” Patty asked, striding into the room dressed in her PJs. She hopped up onto her bed and dragged a hand-knit afghan over her legs.

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