Free Dragon Call by Emily Ryan-Davis

pillow than the
phone rang. Between the first and second ring, she felt the bed
shudder. Cora threw the pillow aside and sat up, afraid the
maybe-real dragons had gotten into the bedroom with her, almost
hoping that the impossible had happened and an earthquake was
rattling New York. She was alone in the bedroom, though. The phone
continued ringing but the bed didn’t move again.
    Diane’s machine was set to pick up after four
rings, so quiet fell over the apartment again a moment later. When
the phone started ringing again immediately, Cora checked the
caller ID. She hoped for Diane, but the number was her
mother’s.
    Any witch will do, she decided and picked up
the phone.
    “Ma, I have a problem,” she said, foregoing a
greeting.
    “Diane, are you alright?” her mother asked at
the same time.
    Both women paused to digest the words
directed at one another. They started speaking at the same time
again.
    “Cora, is that you?”
    “Yes, it’s me. I have a problem.”
    “I know. I could tell. That’s what mothers
do, you know, know when their children have problems,” her mother
said.
    Cora grimaced. Miranda loved her mother’s
intuition only slightly less than she loved her daughters, and she
absolutely adored having an opportunity to use it.
    “Tell me what you’ve done,” she practically
crowed. Cora imagined her hunting for her silver bowl in
preparation of a scry. Miranda used her Sight so infrequently that
she wouldn’t be able to find the traditional bowl. If Cora didn’t
hurry up and spill the story, it would play itself out in miniature
in some undignified plastic storage bowl.
    “I don’t know if I’ve actually done anything.” Even as she spoke, the bed shuddered again. Cora watched
the alarm clock beside the phone vibrate toward the edge of the
nightstand. “Maybe caused an earthquake.”
    “What? Of course you didn’t cause an
earthquake. Ah, here it is,” she announced. “Now let’s see.”
    Cora abruptly realized she was naked, and she
dropped the phone to dive for Diane’s closet. She grabbed a black
satin peignoir from the back of the closet door and drew it over
her shoulders on her way back to retrieve the phone. Bone-chilling
terror came over her before she reached the bed. She stumbled over
a pair of Diane’s shoes and cracked her hip on the corner of her
sister’s vanity. A makeup mirror crashed to the floor, shattering.
Broken eyes glowed up at her from the shards; they were the same
eyes as those in the Chinatown shop window.
    Careless of broken glass and bare feet, Cora
ran to grab the phone. “Ma, something’s watching me,” she panted
into the receiver.
    “That’s me, and now I have to get another
inroad since you broke the first one. You really shouldn’t wear
black, darling. I know it’s touted as the in thing and some fashion
moguls swear that blondes look best in black, but it makes you look
washed out. Don’t you have anything blue?”
    “You?” Cora choked. “That’s what it feels
like when you’re watching someone? My god…” Miranda drew a sharp
breath and Cora added hastily, “…dess. You scared me to death!
Don’t do that again!”
    “You never tell me anything. I have to keep
an eye on you somehow,” Miranda huffed. “Right now you have bigger
problems. That circle is far too small, not to mention too thin, to
contain two dragons. What were you thinking? Where is your
sister? I knew you could do it, you know, it was just a
matter of coming into your own and finding your goddess. We’ll have
a party to celebrate your newfound power.”
    Cora shelved the spying issue for another day
and asked, “What do you mean, two dragons? What do you mean,
too small? Diane’s with her girlfriend.”
    “I thought she was seeing somebody named
Richard?”
    “That was ages ago. She’s been with Alissa
for at least a year.”
    “You girls never tell me anything.”
    “Ma, can we focus? Dragons in my living room?
Not even my living room.”
    “Well,