Free The Story of Owen by E. K. Johnston Page B

discordant notes that ran up and down my spine.
    â€œI’m calm because I know I’ve done everything I can,” she explained. “I’ve spent hours making sure their weapons are perfectly suited to their use. I know what they’ve eaten for breakfast. I’ve watched them train until they can’t stand up anymore, and I’ve watched them stand up anyway and start again. I know that they are the best at this, and that sometimes they just need me to get out of the way.”
    â€œWhat did Owen have for breakfast this morning?” I asked, without really thinking about it.
    â€œLucky Charms,” Hannah said. She giggled. “And bacon.”
    â€œI’m not sure that makes me feel any better,” I said, laughing too. “But at least I know he had something healthy for dinner last night.”
    â€œThat’s the spirit,” Hannah said.
    There was a terrific crash directly above us, and I flinched in spite of my best efforts. Hannah still had hold of my hand,and she tightened her grip at the noise. The shelter was underground, adjacent to the garage and across the yard from the smithy. I hoped that the house was still intact.
    â€œDon’t worry,” Hannah said, guessing from my expression what I was thinking. “Lottie will have made sure that Owen drew the beast away from anything too flammable before they engaged it on the ground. The house will be okay and the smithy probably will be too.”
    â€œThis is my first real dragon attack,” I admitted. There had been a lot of drills at school, and nights spent in our dragon shelter. One time when we were driving home from London we got diverted off of Highway 4 because Exeter was on fire, but this was the closest I’d ever come.
    â€œI think you’re doing well,” she said. “I was an absolute wreck for months after Owen was born, even though Lottie and Aodhan had the whole Oil Watch, and then the other dragon slayers in Hamilton, as backup.”
    There was a knock on the heavy metal doors of the shelter—a sound so unexpected that I jumped. When I realized what the sound meant, I collapsed in relief against the cushions on the chesterfield. It was over.
    â€œLet’s go see the damage,” Hannah said lightly, but I could tell she was a little bit on edge.
    We climbed the stairs and unlatched the doors. Presumably, the shelter had once been a root cellar or some kind of basement access, but the Thorskards had reinforced the entryway to make it as dragonproof as possible. With the latch undone, Hannah was able to push one of the heavy doors open, and I squinted against the bright autumn sunlight.
    Lottie’s face was red and she was breathing hard as sheleaned on her good leg. Owen was winded too. In one hand he held his sword, stained black with dragon’s blood, and in the other was the smoking ruin of my backpack. I deflated a little bit. So much for the essay I’d spent two hours outlining by hand, because Mr. Cooper was a traditionalist who believed in good penmanship.
    Behind them, dead on the ground, was the dragon.
    Lottie followed my gaze from her to Owen, to the dragon, and to my backpack, and she smiled when I sighed.
    â€œDon’t worry, Siobhan,” she said as if this happened all the time. I got the feeling it was probably going to. “I’ll write you a note.”

OF MEETINGS AND NERVOUS BREAKDOWNS
    I met Aodhan Thorskard ten minutes after the first time I touched a dragon. I’d seen pictures of Aodhan before, of course, and had even spoken with him on the phone a few times when I’d called to talk to Owen, but this was the first time we had ever met in person. He arrived in the driveway in his beat-up old Volkswagen minivan just as Lottie and Owen finished cleaning their swords and Hannah finished checking the pair of them over for injuries. I wondered at first how he had managed to show up so soon after the dragon’s defeat, but