She stated it as a fact. Everything about her was calm and assured, nothing like how I felt or how the others looked. Like she really did know what she was talking about.
I kept my feet rooted in the grass.
“But the rift is still on the move,” I said. “What if people are trapped or injured? Should we fly back and help?” It’d felt wrong to disregard those panicking people as though they were simply footage on the news.
“I’m here to help you. Not them.”
I breathed deep. “Well, that’s not weird at all. Um. Help me do what?”
Red crouched in the grass. Rainbow stood nearby, her arms crossed. The dragon had our full attention now.
“Haven’t you guessed?” Her head tilted. “You’re the Chosen One, Hazel.”
I didn’t know what response she expected.
A nervous giggle probably wasn’t it.
It shot up in my throat and came out as a strangled squeak. I clasped my hand in front of my mouth. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Chosen.” A forked tongue flicked out without her mouth ever opening. “You have a destiny. You’re meant to save the world.”
I clamped down on the urge to giggle again, the muscles in my cheeks straining. “I. Um.” I crossed my arms, uncrossed them. “What?” I repeated.
“Could you, uh, give details?” Rainbow said.
“Please,” I added.
The dragon sighed. “The Powers That Be chose you.”
“Why?”
“They saw something in you. Something more than a farm girl.”
“The farm hasn’t actually been used as a farm since—” A cold look cut me off. “Never mind.” I reached for other words and found none.
Chosen One.
What the hell.
The dragon went on: “Listen. Rifts are gaps in the fabric that separates dimensions. Those gaps allow the Powers That Be to reach inside a world to make tweaks and send anything from prophetic scrolls to magical swords to exasperated mentors.” At that last word, she gestured a lazy, clawed paw at herself. “That’s how Chosen Ones are trained to avert apocalypses. Unfortunately, your rift stretched too wide, and your rather enthusiastic government took notice. They intercepted everything the out-of-control rift pulled from other dimensions and spat out here, and everything the Powers sent you on purpose. Including yours truly.”
“You’re my mentor.” I said the words slowly.
“Yes. I’m also useful in a fight and can double as your main mode of transportation.” I’d expected her to sigh again. Instead, she stood straighter. I swear she puffed out her chest. “My name is Neven. I am a she, as we’ve established. And I’m delighted to meet you, Hazel Stanczak, even if it took a while.”
“Hi,” I said weakly.
“How long is a while?” Red wondered.
The dragon glanced at her sideways. “Three years.”
I sputtered. “I thought you arrived alongside them! I thought—You came through three years ago?”
“For a dragon, three years is . . .” She flicked a claw. “Pah.”
“I’m . . . I’m sorry.”
Three years? Trapped in a barn I passed every day, and I’d never had a clue.
Director Facet had, though. Forget keeping the kelpie from me; the MGA had held the dragon—Neven—since I was twelve or thirteen, and never once let on.
I suddenly felt less guilty about leaving.
“Did you tell the MGA?” I asked. “About this Chosen One . . . thing? About the other dimensions?”
“MGA?” Neven repeated.
“Is that the agency?” Red said.
“Like CIA or something?”
I nodded. “Mysterious Government Agency. It’s what Caro and I call them. Ha.” It felt childish all of a sudden. “The actual agency is a state secret. They never gave us the name.”
Neven’s tail lashed over the grass. “I told them nothing. The rules say you must be the first to know. Anyway. This is not about me. This is about you.”
“So . . . you’re saying the rift was supposed to send items to prepare me?”
“Yes. A scroll with explanations came through when the rift first opened. Very traditional; looped handwriting and everything.”
“Half the grounds caught fire that first week.”
“Ah. Yes. The scroll may have burned.”
I gaped. I wanted to sit, but the grass was wet, and listening to a dragon muse about my destiny probably went better if I wasn’t distracted by my jeans getting soaked.
“It doesn’t normally go that way,” Neven said defensively. “You’ve had exceptionally poor luck. At least today’s note came through.”
“Where do we come in?” Rainbow asked.
Neven flopped to the ground, apparently unbothered by the wet grass. “The Powers That Be reached into your worlds and sent you two as last-minute support. Hazel missed years of training. Your presence may balance out that lack. The Powers aren’t supposed to bring in allies aside from myself, but there are loopholes. It’s not bringing in someone new if you’re technically the same person.”
“So we’re . . . backup?” Red said quietly.
Neven inclined her head in a yes.
“If one Chosen One isn’t enough, they’ll use three?”
“Apparently so.”
“In order to save the world?” I added.
Another incline of her head. “The role of Chosen One is a great honor.”
“It’s ridiculous,” I said. “I mean—I’m sorry. This is just a lot. You’re really not joking?”
“I did not arrive in a new dimension and spend years in a cell without stretching my wings, prodded at by infuriating humans, purely to play a practical joke on three traumatized teenagers.” She ruffled her wings. “I take my job seriously. Also, I’m not awful.”
Screw the wet grass. I plopped down a few feet from the others. My phone pushed painfully into my thigh. I’d chosen way-too-tight jeans to wear on my birthday. (To impress Marybeth, maybe.) I regretted that almost as much as I regretted losing my coat somewhere between Franny’s and here.
I plucked at the jeans, peeling the fabric from my legs for half seconds at a time. Chosen One. Powers That Be. Dragons. Destinies. It was at once absurd and not much of a stretch when I considered that an interdimensional rift had hovered a stone’s throw from my bedroom for the past sixteen years.
I’d long ago stopped caring what the answer was. As long as I got one.
“Are our own, um, dimensions OK?” Red asked. “There’s no rifts there?”
“None like this. The Powers opened small rifts in your worlds’ fabric to grab you, then neatly shut them. The way it’s supposed to happen. The situation in this world is an anomaly.”
“So jumping in the rift won’t get us back home?” Rainbow rubbed her arms. She didn’t have a coat, either.
“It’ll get you dead, most likely,” Neven informed her.
“How do we go home?”
“The Powers That Be will send you back once the mission is completed.”
“The mission,” I repeated. Saving the world. It had to be about the rift spinning out of control.