The Dragon Mage Collection Read online

  I wanted to hurl when we passed by the manicured lawns of Wyvern Willows homes along the hillside. Each lawn, no matter the wealth of the home, was beautiful, cropped, and landscaped to perfection. Some homes were older, but still ideal. Some were cabins, some brick—just like anywhere else, but this place bellowed that no one stepped a single toe from the perfect, societal line. Aunt Liz was supposed to be thrilled, but I noted the way her fingers tapped the steering wheel nervously when we pulled up to the sprawling white house tucked in a grove of oak and spruce trees a mile outside of town. Despite the nerves, there was hope in Liz’s eyes, and it settled in the center of my chest like a spool of barbed wire that this was my last shot. Aunt Liz believed in me, even though I’d wallowed in my own frustrated mind a lot. My aunt was quiet and meek, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she believed I could be something greater. Despite all her praises at the beautiful landscape and attempts to reach into my passion for the outdoors, this place still felt as though we were driving up to a gray, sullen prison.

  The van rolled around the circular gravel drive, parking below steps leading to the classiest door I had ever seen. The glass in the rich mahogany wood was painted in two dragons of red and blue. Random design in my mind. Why dragons? Was it some play on words for conquering the inner beast?

  Andy, the know-it-all of the bunch tucked in the van, shouted out from the back seat as if reading my mind. “Did you know wyvern is another name used for dragon? Interesting. Will you ask why they chose that as the mascot, Teagan?”

  I didn’t answer, mostly because Andy’s voice was drowned out by the screams and cries of all the other children in the van. The metal tube was filled to the max with kids spanning the ages. Levi, the youngest, tossed his juice box at my shoulder from his booster seat. Mary Beth was eating her crayons while the second oldest next to me, a thick boy who went by the name Diesel, kept swearing under his breath at the spindly new boy named Mark. The slender kid was utterly defenseless in his seat belt next to Diesel’s heavy fist.

  Liz gripped my shoulder, drawing my tight gaze toward her. Her chin was quivering as though she were preparing to crumble. “This looks great, T. Don’t you think?”

  Perhaps I shouldn’t have scoffed, but it was habit. I stared out the front windshield at the same moment the two dragons on the door separated and a man with the strongest arms I’d seen stepped out onto the porch. He was followed closely by two young men, probably close to my age, and I instantly hated them.

  “Well, here it goes,” Aunt Liz breathed, stepping out of the van to meet the newcomers.

  “Hey, try not get arrested again, loser,” Diesel spat while he took Mark’s glasses.

  Diesel cursed my rude gesture before I turned and high-fived Mary Beth and tickled Levi’s toes one last time. I could deal with the younger kids, it’s when the older ones started acting as defiant as me that caused the trouble. Honestly, I wasn’t small by any means and could handle myself in a confrontation. During freshman year, the football coaches practically begged me to join the team, but living that life—you know, jock who dates cheerleaders—was as unnatural to me as the town of Wyvern Willows.

  I’d had to cut my shaggy hair—court ordered requirement for this place—but I didn’t mind in the heat of the sun. Inside my chest was burning in dark, lost, angry tension, though I never knew what I was chronically angry about. Aunt Liz always told me my eyes said something different than anger. She said I had light inside my heart. My eyes were bright. The blue was a unique paleness that looked like the sky surrounding the white, summer sun. But when I prepared to leave the van, I hoped my eyes would let everyone know exactly how I felt about being here.

  When Aunt Liz signaled me to join her outside, I finally opened the door and plopped onto the gravel. Cautiously, I inched toward the intimidating man, who instantly stuck his hand out for me to take. There were times when I really didn’t want to act out, but it was like an engrained part of my internal make-up that caused authority to boil against my brain.

  “When someone offers to shake your hand, you take it,” the man grumbled. “Now.”

  “I thought I had the freedom to refuse unwanted touch,” I snapped, my lips curled slightly. Then again, sometimes I found amusement in defiance.

  Aunt Liz pinched the back of my arm, causing me to jump away from the throbbing touch.

  “Your freedom was taken away the moment you decided to drink and go on a joyride through a national park,” the man retorted—still calm, but darkly serious. “Now, politely shake my hand, Mr. Ward. Or are we going to have a problem from the get-go?” Clearing my throat, I felt the pull of my face contorting in my best I-don’t-like-you glare and stiffly shook the man’s hand. “Good. I’m Mr. Sapphire, the principal—if you will—of Wyvern Reform. Though my name may not strike fear into your soul, I assure you if you act out, break our rules, you’ll wish you didn’t know me.”

  I chuckled, but the other two boys standing behind Sapphire didn’t budge, they didn’t even smirk in the least.

  “Teagan assured me he was here to follow your rules, and he wouldn’t be any trouble—didn’t you?” Aunt Liz snapped, her glistening eyes shadowing to a threatening level of gray when I faced her.

  “Good,” Sapphire said before I could muster any sort of retort. Already, I really didn’t like the guy. “Say goodbye to your aunt, Mr. Ward, and then you’ll follow me.”

  Stomping to the back of the van, I threw open the hatch to get my single suitcase. Apparently, Wyvern Reform embraced minimalism and one suitcase was all I’d been allowed. Aunt Liz sniffled and wrapped her thin arms around my neck.

  “Be good, Teagan. Please, I don’t know how else to beg anymore. Learn something from these people, make new friends. Then come home. We want you at home, sweetie.”

  “Mr. Ward, it’s time to go,” Sapphire growled.

  I squeezed my aunt, holding her a second longer than usual before slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Bye, Aunt Liz. Don’t let Diesel pick on Mark, okay? I’ll call you when they let me get my one phone call.”

  Liz scoffed, her lips pressed tight in frustration. “This isn’t prison, Teagan. That’s what we’re trying to avoid. See you around, kiddo. Love you.”

  Aunt Liz relished in speaking to me like I was ten, but today I actually found some comfort in her patient voice. I waved to the few kids who waved to me and trudged toward Sapphire and his robots.

  “Mitch and Graham will take you to your room. You’ll meet me at my office in ten minutes for your tour. Tardiness is not accepted, Mr. Ward. We run on a demerit system. Ten demerits and you’re handed back to the court. Follow our rules, and I think you’ll find our program enlightening and helpful. But that decision lies with you. You now have nine minutes.”

  I glared at Sapphire, who offered a smile that reminded me of a pompous bully who knew he’d just won. Mitch and Graham, though which of the robots was which I certainly didn’t know, turned toward the house and, reluctantly, I followed.

  Inside was just as orderly as everything in Wyvern Willows. There was a wooden staircase that led toward two more stories. Similarly stained glass door panes closed off a parlor room where two boys were dusting and vacuuming the rugs. From the front entry I could see the kitchen door swinging in and out and another room I guessed was a dining room.

  “Come on, boys are on the third floor,” one of the robots said.

  “Boys? There are girls here?”

  Robot One, as I now referred to the darker boy, nodded. “They’re on the second floor and there are only three. Don’t even think about it, they’re all twelve or thirteen and you think the basic rules are strict—if you’re caught on the girls’ floor without an approved reason—automatically ten demerits.”

  “Got it,” I scoffed.

  “Look, you think you’re a tough guy, right? You aren’t. Sapphire isn’t kidding around and you would be wise to just stick to the program,” the paler, redheaded Robot Two said.

  “Whatev
er,” I quickly snapped, narrowing my eyes at the kid. “I just want to get out of here.”

  We tromped to the third floor, and Robot Two shoved open a door that stuck a bit before swinging into a small bedroom.

  “I get my own room?” A bright spot in the dreary day.

  Robot One nodded. “A sign of good faith. You’ll lose the room completely on your second demerit.”

  “Where would I sleep then?”

  “There are cots to set up in the living room. They smell. I’d encourage you to keep your room.”

  I shook my head, the barbed wire wall inside my chest starting to poke deeper into my heart and stomach. Dropping the duffel bag onto the small bed, I took in the setting. Minimalists, for sure. There was a small desk. A pen, a pencil, a waste basket, and a lamp. An alarm clock was set up on a small bedside table with another tiny lamp. The bed was bland—fit for a single person, a scratchy blue blanket on top and one white lumpy pillow. The best part about the room, it had a gabled window that led out to the roof. That was where I would rather sleep, under the stars, away from other breathing things stuffed inside the prison house.

  “So, what did you guys do to get in here?” I asked, turning right back around knowing there were about three minutes to get back to Sapphire’s office.

  “I’m Mitch,” Robot One said, sticking out his hand. I actually didn’t mind shaking his hand. Mitch was taller than me, with darker skin. His hair was short, but looked like it might be curly if he grew it out. “I shoplifted—a few times. I’m here to cure my kleptomania. It really isn’t bad at the reform, just toe the line.”

  “And you must be Graham?” I ventured. The redheaded smaller guy nodded. “What did you do?”

  Graham shook his head and looked away. “That’s my business.”

  “Oh, come on, Sapphire just blurted mine out for everyone to hear. I didn’t even get the choice to keep it a secret.”

  “Don’t feel bad,” Mitch said. “Graham hasn’t told anyone. Only Sapphire knows. Speaking of Sapphire, you better go. His office is down by the front door, just off the living room. Good luck.”

  Leaving Mitch and Graham behind, I wove my way through the house, looking for the elusive office. There were a few glimpses of the other prisoners along the way, all doing chores around the house. There was even a boy who leaned on a ladder cleaning the beams toward the ceiling. He looked too young to handle that sort of thing. When I stepped off the bottom step, one of the girls swept by. Her black hair was cropped short, she had distant sort of eyes and a frown that went on for days when she knocked my shoulder in all her haste. What a pleasant girl, especially when she stuck out her tongue, showing off a silver stud in the center, and flipped her finger at me.

  There was an open office near the dragon doors. Sapphire tapped his watch when I stepped into the doorframe. “Thirty seconds to spare, Mr. Ward. That’s a start. Come in and close the door.”

  I complied, though part of me really, really wanted to leave the door open, just to agitate Mr. Sapphire. But I thought of my private room—it was a jewel in the ashes of this prison. I really, really didn’t want to lose my privacy more than I wanted to defy Sapphire.

  “Here is your class schedule for Monday,” Sapphire said, handing me a booklet and folder filled with papers all embossed with the logo of Wyvern High School. “Ms. Drake is the principal of the school and is already expecting you. The demerit system is set in place for school hours as well, and Ms. Drake will be in full communication with me about your actions during the day. You’re required to maintain your grades, attend all your classes, and if you need any extra help with a subject, you are to submit this form,” Sapphire handed me a pink piece of paper, “and go through the proper tutoring channels. Any questions about school?”

  “Seems pretty much like any school,” I groaned in sarcasm.

  “Wyvern High is nationally ranked. You’ll be surrounded by some of the brightest students and staff. Maybe you’ll learn something, Mr. Ward.”

  “That’s what people keep saying,” I retorted.

  Sapphire clicked his tongue, but didn’t smile. The man was rolling in muscles. It brought me to wonder if that was part of the reason he’d been given such a position. Brawny and bulky seemed stereotypical, in my opinion. Sapphire had dark eyes, like coal, and a strong chin coated in a black beard. He looked like he’d fit in nicely in a boxing ring, rather than in a polo shirt and khakis at a reform school.

  “Did you stop to think they keep saying it because it’s true?” Sapphire must have meant it as a rhetorical question because he didn’t wait for my response. “There are simple rules here, Mr. Ward—”

  “Can you call me Teagan? Mr. Ward sounds like I’m forty or something,” I interjected. All the judges, officers, and principals called me Mr. Ward. Frankly, I was tired of it.

  “If that’s what you prefer,” Sapphire agreed. “There are only a few rules. Number one, you are to be punctual—here is the daily schedule of the house, including weekends. You’ll lose a half demerit for each tardy. Second, you do your chores—each door will be given a job chart every morning. You’ll do different chores often, helping you hone your skills in different areas. Third is a combination. No drinking, no drugs, no sex.”

  “You really know how to take all the fun out of life,” I snipped, but Sapphire promptly ignored me.

  “No fighting with the other students—that goes for here at Wyvern Reform and at school. Stay off the girls’ floor. Participate in group sessions each Thursday evening, and hand in your reflection journal each Sunday. There are lists of punishments and demerits on here.” While Sapphire spoke, he continually handed me papers, a composition notebook, and clipboards.

  “Reflection journal?”

  “Part of understanding why you feel the need to act out is understanding yourself on a deeper level. If anything strikes you as relevant, write it down. I expect something to be written each week. Most students start off with a line or two, but by the time you graduate the program I’m positive you will be filling the pages. It’s a good exercise.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle as I thumbed through the empty lined pages. This was ridiculous.

  “A final rule,” Sapphire continued. “Under no circumstances are you to go beyond the designated fence line. The woods surrounding Wyvern Willows are beautiful, but there are dangerous areas. That’s the law, Teagan, not just my rule. Don’t go beyond the markers or you’ll be arrested and sent back home—where, in your case, you’ll be locked up anyway. Understand?”

  I knew my smirk was arrogant, but Sapphire was aggravating. “So, don’t go into the creepy woods, huh? Yeah that doesn’t make me any more curious.”

  “Sarcasm. I guess that’s your defense so people don’t get close to you,” Sapphire said. “I’ll help with your curiosity; there’s nothing secretive out there, it’s just dangerous. There are cliffs, animals, and it’s nearly impossible to get a search party in the area. Don’t go out there. Understand?”

  “I got it,” I huffed. Flopping against the chair.

  “I got it, sir,” Mr. Sapphire said.

  “I’m supposed to call you sir? That wasn’t in the rules.”

  “My mistake,” Sapphire scoffed. “That’s it, Teagan. Welcome to Wyvern Reform. Don’t waste your opportunity. Now, get to the chores. You’ll have free time to curse my name and this place all you want after dinner—until then, get to it.”

  Sapphire pointed to the Saturday job list, where my name had already been added. Dumpster duty, cleaning out the rain gutters, and fixing the gate. Inside I was cursing Sapphire already. This place was my own personal version of Hell. Getting out was the only option.

  Chapter 3

  Sunday night the house was quiet. I sat at the desk in my small room, tapping the pen along the scratched wood. An etching along the side of the wood was from a boy named Chance. He’d wanted me to know he’d been there, apparently.

  The reflection journal was due in less than an hour and I st
ill had no idea where to begin. I thought about being childish and writing something like “you suck” or whatever, but Graham warned me that Sapphire wasn’t an idiot, and if anything but thoughtful, serious entries were included I would have a choice between demerits or extra housework.

  Glancing out the window, I gazed at the pointed treetops of the distant forest. Sapphire had led the students through a few trails at the back of the house earlier that morning, and in turn had pointed out the fence line for my information. When Sapphire said fence line, he meant it. The chain-link barrier was at least twelve feet tall, and in my opinion, completely wrecked the atmosphere of the woods with its gaudy presence. The short hike was the singular moment when peace settled inside my chest. The only calm I’d felt since being ripped from Aunt Liz’s house. I’d made sure to take some time to perch on a fallen log, away from everyone else, of course, and just breathed the fresh air. The sparks of life erupted through my blood like always when the wonders of nature were around. When I’d been young, I’d even dared believe the forest could speak with me. Aunt Liz encouraged my creativity, as she called it, and even played along, asking what the rocks and trees were saying as we hiked from time to time. I pushed down my passion for the beauty of the landscape as I’d gotten older, but when Sapphire led us into the forest of Wyvern Willows, the same tingle of home returned. If I listened close enough, sometimes it seemed as though the trees had voices.

  The idea was stupid, and there was no way I was going to write that in the journal. Sapphire would send me packing to an institute for the mentally deranged. I clasped my fingers behind my head, closed my eyes, and tipped back on the chair a bit. Aunt Liz had been on my mind a lot today. Being away from her, with all those other kids she had to look after, it didn’t seem right. She didn’t deserve it, any of it. Aunt Liz had once taught school, but when my parents died, it wasn’t a secret that she’d quit to run daycares and take in foster kids so she could be with me. She sacrificed her life, her career, so she could raise me. What a way to show gratitude. The thoughts bumbled about in my mind, sending a choking wave of guilt through my chest, as though someone had hooked tight bands around my ribs and squeezed tighter and tighter. The pain drew my open palm over my heart to ease the ache of guilt.