all go through tough times, Jennifer.” Susan didn’t seem happy about arguing the point, but she went on. “I understand Eddie’s mom is in the hospital and his dad’s a jerk. But there are people I know who get knocked down and then stand back up.” Like you, her look told Jennifer.
“He’ll come through.” She tried to sound more certain than she felt. “Eddie just needs something to believe in again. His family let him down. I let him down.”
“Skip kicked his head in,” Susan added.
“Doesn’t matter,” Catherine insisted. “Eddie let everyone down. Did you see the look on Grammie’s face? I thought she was going to pinch his head off and toast it, she was so upset by his answer.”
“He’ll come through,” Jennifer repeated.
“Whatever you say,” Catherine said and sniffed. She got up and ambled into the kitchen on four legs. “I’d like a bite before we go. Skip, you didn’t eat all the toaster waffles last night, did you?”
----
CHAPTER 3
Sunday Afternoon
« ^ »
During the drive home, Catherine and Jennifer stayed in formation close to the ground so they could talk and whomp.
“Your dad seemed to stay pretty cool,” Catherine commented as her large hindclaws crushed the brown weeds alongside the highway with leap after leap.
“Yeah, he’s all right,” Jennifer allowed, whomping the grasses right next to her friend. “We still get along okay.”
It was a while before Catherine said anything. Then, “I told Grammie before we left that she should listen to you more. And your dad. But she’s too—too Grammie. Know what I mean?”
“Yeah.” No clue.
“I mean, she raised me from since I can remember. She’s always been right, about everything. Or so I thought. But the more I see of Crescent Valley and other dragons, the more I wonder. I mean, who cares if someone like Susan or Skip visits Crescent Valley? They’re friends.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“I think the pressure of being Eldest is kinda getting to her. Whenever I try to talk to her about stuff, she gets really freaked out. Especially if it’s about beaststalkers.”
“Why’s that?”
“Beaststalkers have not been kind to our family. She’s told me some pretty nasty things, about killings, and hobblings, and skewered newolves…”
Jennifer was just about to ask what hobblings were, but then the image of a skewered newolf made her stomach churn. “Ugh. How would newolves and beaststalkers ever meet?”
“I’m not sure. Grammie’s talked a bit about some newolves coming over to this side, as guards or escorts.”
This much was true. Jennifer recalled the previous spring, when her father and grandfather had arranged for newolves to patrol the forests near the farm. She wondered how they crossed over. Did they swim? Did they need to have the wearer of the Ring of Seraphina with them?
And did beaststalkers really have to skewer them?
They went on, staying within sight of the Mustang, which only swerved once in a while when it drifted too far to the right and hit the rumble strip.
“Jeez,” Jennifer remarked the fourth time this happened in the past half-hour. “Do you think Susan’s just tired, or what?”
“More likely fending off Skip’s advances” came the sly response.
“Okay, was that supposed to be funny?”
“I’m just saying—”
“Because I know funny. I’m a funny gal.”
“She doesn’t exactly stop him when he grabs her under—”
“And that? Not so funny.”
Jennifer punctuated the last remark by launching herself intentionally into Catherine’s side. She knocked both of them into a cornfield, which fortunately had been harvested weeks ago and only contained snowy mud and stalk residue. They somersaulted several times before they were able to stop, and they were both giggling as they got up.
“I’m glad you’re not driving that car anymore,” Catherine said. “Steering like that, you’d have hit the ditch miles ago.”
“Yeah, but I would have