“You know that’s not true,” Dad replied. “He was growing quickly before you said anything to him.”
Liam started to get a hot, tight feeling somewhere in his middle. Were they talking about him?
“I know, but I’d give almost anything to turn back time and take back what I said.”
Liam’s wings and tail drooped. He knew exactly what she was talking about. They were talking about him, and Mom sounded really sad.
Last month, when Dad had gotten hurt so bad, Mom had said to Liam, You need to be a big soldier now.
And Liam had thought, I can do that.
He had pushed to get bigger, because Mom needed him to be strong.
Getting bigger wasn’t hard. It was kind of like shapeshifting, and his dragon form wanted him to be big anyway. He could feel it inside, straining to encompass all of his Power. And, as Dad had said, he was growing awfully fast anyway. But for some reason, when he had gone through that growth spurt, it had hurt Mom, and the last thing in the world Liam wanted to do was hurt her.
For the first time ever, he thought, Am I bad?
Asking that question made the hot, tight feeling in his middle worse.
“I can’t believe I’m going to take him to school in the morning,” Mom said. “Even though he’s taller than most first graders, he’s only six months old.”
“We’ve talked about this,” Dad said. “We agreed that he needed school.”
“I know and I was even the one who argued for that, but I have to ask—are we going about this the right way? He’s already far past what a normal first grader knows anyway. He’s read through a third of our library, he writes in complete sentences, and he’s been learning high-school algebra from Hugh.” She muttered, “I don’t even remember how to do high-school algebra.”
“Never mind the academics,” Dad said. “You were right. He needs the socialization. The only people he interacts with are adults. He has to learn to relate to other children too, while he’s still a child.”
“I agree,” Mom told him. “I’m just fretting. Dragos, he’s so innocent.”
“I know, but that innocent boy is also a dangerous predator. He can already take down animals that are more than twice the size of his Wyr form.”
It was only one cow, Liam thought. He hadn’t thought it was that big of a deal.
Dad was still talking. “When he killed those cows, Hugh said he went into a complete frenzy.”
Okay, Liam might have forgotten about the other cows. His snout itched, and he rubbed it on one forearm.
“He needs to learn how to control himself,” Dad said. “And for that, he needs to develop social ties. Relationships will be the only real check on him when he grows to his full size. He has to care enough about other people so that he controls himself, for their sake.”
Mom whispered, “Like you?”
“Yes,” said Dad. “Exactly like me.”
They fell silent. Liam suspected they might be kissing, which they liked to do a lot.
From around the corner, in the direction of the kitchen, Hugh called out, “Liam, come on in. It’s time for lunch.”
He heaved a sigh. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to listen to Mom and Dad talk until they said something that made everything better. He wanted that hot, tight feeling to go away.
“Liam!” Hugh shouted. “Don’t make me come after you, buddy.”
He could tell Hugh was too cheerful to be mad. Hugh almost never got mad, but Liam also didn’t want Hugh to find out where he was, because then Mom and Dad would find out too, and what was the point of spying if you couldn’t keep it a secret?
Releasing his hold on the support beam, he let himself fall. Like a cat, he twisted in midair so that he landed in a crouch, right side up. Trudging around the corner of the house, he shapeshifted back into a human boy and went inside for lunch.
The rest of the day seemed to go on forever. Desultorily, Liam played Spy Wyr some more, but his heart wasn’t in it.
He was starting to feel nervous about school. What if the other kids didn’t like him? How was he supposed to learn to socialize, if that happened? From the way Dad was talking, it sounded pretty important.
And besides, what if he didn’t make any friends?
For supper, Mom cooked his favorite meal, spaghetti with meatballs, and Liam, Mom and Dad ate together in the breakfast nook off the kitchen. Mom had meatballs with her spaghetti too, but hers were the fake kind. Liam wasn’t like Dad about food—even though he liked real meat a lot better, he liked fake meatballs just fine too.
For some reason, tonight his spaghetti noodles were hard to swallow, and he pushed the meatballs around his plate, until Mom frowned and asked, “Are you feeling all right, sweetheart?”
He wasn’t sure. All his feelings were tangled up in a knot, and he didn’t know how to untangle them, or how to answer her. So, he shrugged and said, “Sure.”
She looked at him for a long, thoughtful moment. “I’ve never seen you without an appetite.”