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our suite. I close the door behind us and, not knowing how much time we’ll have before my sisters return, I waste no time asking questions.
    I try the indirect approach first. “Nattertinny Castle seems really cool. How did you find it?”
    “They have a website. You saw it.”
    “But how did you find the website?”
    Silence. And utter lack of eye contact as my mom suddenly becomes absorbed in rooting through her bag.
    I press further. “Do you know the Sheehys?”
    “Hmm?” Mom picks up the bag and all but sticks her head inside, muttering something about her contact lens case.
    “Isn’t it with your other toiletries? Did you put it in the bathroom?” I’m reminded that my eyes are pretty itchy, too, after long plane rides with my contacts in. We dragons have startling jewel-toned eyes, so when we’re out among other people, we wear color-dulling contacts to keep our true identities a secret. I slept in mine on the last plane.
    Itchy, indeed.
    “Oh, that’s right. Thanks.” My mom heads through one of the bedrooms to a bathroom, which is spacious and sparkling white with Carrera marble, and well-lit with chrome fixtures, which gives the room a much brighter feel than the other parts of the castle we’ve ventured through.
    Mom plucks out her contacts while I stand behind her, jealous of the relief her eyes must feel, but unwilling to abandon this conversation until I’ve gotten answers.
    Considering how much my eyes itch, I’m no longer willing to take the indirect approach. “Are the Sheehys dragons?”
    Mom fumbles the contact case, spilling lenses and lens solution onto the marble floor. “Oh, bloody hell. Wren?”
    “What?” I crouch down beside her to find the fallen lenses.
    Her amethyst eyes look guilty. “Why would you think…?”
    “Why else would you bring us here? We’re turning twenty this summer. Older than you were when you married dad.”
    “That was a long time ago.” She plucks up a lens and rinses it carefully over the sink.
    “Not yet twenty-two years,” I note matter-of-factly, finding the other lens and holding it out to her, standing patiently behind her, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “So, are they?”
    “I dunno.” Her Scottish accent is plenty strong. “They’re contenders. The strongest contenders I know of in the world. But I don’t know if they’re dragons and I can’t figure out how to ask, without, you know—”
    “Giving away that we’re dragons?”
    “Aye.”

Chapter Four
     
    “So, what makes you think they’re dragons? And how sure can we be?” I’ve got my own suspicions, but I want to hear my mother’s side.
    “It’s a long story.” Her contacts out, she follows me back to the sitting room where my bags still sit, untouched, where Ed left them.
    “Tell it to me. I’ve got time.” I search for my contact lens case.
    “If I tell you, you’ve got to promise not to let on to your sisters.”
    “Why not?”
    “For one thing, I don’t want them disappointed if I’m wrong. You know how much Zilpha wants to marry. She’s a romantic at heart, but more than that, she wants a family of her own and children. If she thought these Sheehy boys were dragons, and then found out they weren’t, she’d be heartbroken. Rilla, too, but less so. I don’t mind telling you, because we all know…” she gestures emphatically with her hands, but doesn’t speak the words aloud, as though saying them might somehow bind me to a fate she’d rather I avoid.
    I have no such qualms. In fact, I’d love to be bound to this fate. “I don’t want to get married,” I announce aloud. I’ve found my contact lens stuff, and pull the itchy things from my eyes. Ah, sweet relief. We can see just fine without them—in fact, we dragons have exceptional eyesight. If anything, the contacts make our eyesight worse, especially when we’ve had them in too long, which is my excuse for not seeing the sign to the castle earlier. My bright red irises look back at me