The Silver Moon Elm Read Free

shoulder, and her lean Egyptian features closed in for a whisper. “Easy does it. You can’t have global harmony if you bust up your friends on the car ride there.”
    The older girl’s voice soothed Jennifer. She relaxed, curled up a corner of her mouth, and tossed a casual glance back at Skip. “If you get a hand back under her shirt, don’t be surprised if it doesn’t find much.”
    Skip and Catherine burst out laughing as Susan gasped. “That’s not fair!”
    “Oh, it’s fair,” Catherine countered as she accelerated the car back onto the highway. “If you flirt with a girlfriend’s ex, she gets to make rude and superficial remarks about you. It’s part of the code.”
    Susan appealed to the boys, eyebrows high in desperation. “No, really, it’s not fair! Jennifer’s got perfect everythings, and have you seen her mom? Of course she’s going to have bigger—”
    “So anyway, how much longer until we’re at…wherever we’re going?” Eddie asked, even redder than he had been before.
    “We’re almost at her family’s farm,” Skip answered before Jennifer or Catherine could say anything.
    “The family farm? You’ve been to Jenny’s grandpa’s place?”
    No one answered; there was no point in denying it. Skip had been to the farm weeks ago, when Jonathan Scales invited him there to talk about Evangelina. After all, she was his half-sister as well—the daughter of Jonathan Scales and Dianna Wilson.
    Eddie turned to Jennifer with a hurt expression. “You always told me no one besides family was allowed at your grandpa’s place.”
    “Um, that’s not true. Catherine’s been there lots of times.” How is that an answer? she asked herself before plunging forward. “It’s sort of a dragon hideout. Anyway, er, Skip, er, didn’t stay long.”
    “Is that where Crescent Valley is?” Susan interrupted helpfully. “At the farm?”
    “Sort of. It’s…close by.” Why am I being evasive? We’re all going there soon enough. “It’s kinda hard to explain. You’ll see.”
    The car swerved. Alarmed, Jennifer looked over at Catherine, who was clutching her right shoulder. “You okay?”
    “It’s getting kinda hard to keep this shape,” her friend replied through gritted teeth. “Normally I’d’ve changed by now…”
    Since it was almost noon, she could not easily see the moon in the sky. But it occurred to Jennifer that her father had left their house in Winoka earlier this morning—like most weredragons, he was compelled by the crescent moon to change shape. Only she among her kind, and Skip among his, were able to decide when and where they morphed.
    “Oh, that’s…”
    “You do not,” Susan commented, “look well.”
    Jennifer resisted the urge to grab the wheel. “Pull over!”
    Catherine did not argue. She whipped open the door and tumbled out of the car even before it had completely stopped. Jennifer followed her friend into the ditch and picked up the shoes, jacket, yellow pullover, and faded jeans as they were shed and tossed to the ground.
    “Wow,” she heard Skip mutter back in the car.
    “Grow up!” she shot back, trying to interpose herself between the gawking boys and her friend, who was slowly easing into her new shape.
    Except for her father, Jennifer had never watched someone else change into a dragon. It was fascinating, though brief after the first (quite painful) time. Tramplers like Catherine were one of three distinct dragon breeds. They were powerfully built, with only rudimentary wings but terrific musculature and impressive nose horns. A scarlet fire burned behind their eyes, and many had what Jennifer privately thought of as “peacock scales”…green under most lights, but with hints of yellow and blue when the sun or moon were right.
    When Catherine was finished, she showed two rows of sharp teeth. “Looks like you get to drive us the rest of the way there, Jennifer.”
    “Oh! Um, sure—”
    “No, wait, I can drive! I have my learner’s