Luminosity Read online

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  More from Annabelle Jay

  About the Author

  By Annabelle Jay

  Visit Harmony Ink Press

  Copyright

  Luminosity

  By Annabelle Jay

  The Sun Dragon: Book Five

  As the epic saga of the Sun Dragon Series draws to a close, transgender teenager Luke must face her destiny to decide the fate of her world. Not only is Luke a girl born into the wrong body, she is the universe’s last Artist: a person with the ability to draw things into existence. When she comes face-to-face with an incubus who might be her father, she learns it falls to her to prevent the incubi from destroying the world—along with allies from the wizard’s Council and the dragon clan leaders. If that isn’t enough, she needs to find a way out of a relationship with her girlfriend that she never intended, go after the Igreefee royal she really wants to be with, and decide if the time is right to transition physically into the girl she’s always been inside.

  The journey that began with Allanah’s first Sun Dragon is coming to its thrilling conclusion. The dragons, wizards, sorceresses, and birds you’ve come to know and love will reunite for their biggest battle yet—one that will decide their destiny at last.

  Acknowledgments

  I WANT to thank the wonderful team at Harmony Ink who helped make The Sun Dragon Series a reality and who trusted me to follow my heart wherever it led me. Special thanks to Anne Regan, Harmony Ink’s Executive Editor, and Dawn, my senior editor, for all of their patience and guidance. Finally, thank you to my wonderful young adult readers, without whom I would not have started writing The Sun Dragon Series in the first place. You inspire me every single day.

  Chapter One

  THE STARS danced above me, spinning like the Earth was a globe turned by a huge hand. Constellations I knew like the freckles on my skin flew by—Virgo, Ursa Minor, Perseus—and I named them, their ancient titles just a whisper in a pitch-black universe.

  “Luke? Earth to Luke?”

  The sound of Mr. Burnett’s voice startled me out of my mumbling. Though the astronomy lab was dark, I could feel nineteen pairs of eyes turn toward me. I must have been whispering loudly for my teacher, who was somewhere in the back row of empty chairs, to hear me.

  “Yes, Mr. Burnett?”

  “The question was this constellation.” Mr. Burnett used his laser pointer to circle a cluster of stars. “Name it, please.”

  A sigh of relief escaped my lips. The constellation in question was Cygnus, one of the easiest northern constellations to spot.

  “It’s Cygnus—the swan. Its most recognizable feature is the cross that comprises its body, but don’t confuse it with the Southern Cross, which would appear much smaller.”

  “Just the name is fine, Luke,” Mr. Burnett said, and the class laughed. “But you are correct. Now, Egret, can you tell me the name of this one over here?”

  I couldn’t see Egret, but I knew she was rolling her eyes. Her feet were probably propped up on the seat in front of her, whether another student’s head lay there or not, tapping time to whatever rock song she played low enough that Mr. Burnett wouldn’t hear her.

  “Uh, let me think,” Egret said, her voice already dripping with sarcasm. “Is it ‘lame constellation nobody cares about’?”

  Awkward titters followed and then silence.

  “No, Egret, it’s not. Perhaps you’ll see me after class for some extra homework that might help you learn these names?”

  Mr. Burnett continued with the lesson, but I tuned him out. I had just moved to Eagle High, Maine’s largest public high school, to complete my senior year, and making friends had proved impossible. Social circles were deeply entrenched, and with college looming on the horizon, no one cared to enlarge them. Egret had the locker next to mine, so she occasionally spoke to me out of necessity—mostly things like “move” and “your sweatshirt’s on the floor”—but besides her, I knew no one in class.

  “That’s it for today, folks. Remember, test tomorrow on these names, and all you’re getting is a blank star chart, so practice, practice, practice. Who knows—one of you might end up flying a spaceship to Draman one day.”

  As I packed up my book bag, Mr. Burnett’s words echoed in my ear. Draman: a legend for astronomy geeks like Mr. Burnett or my mom, a real astronomer for NASA, to yearn for every time they looked through the telescope. When I’d registered for this class, I’d had Draman on my mind. Nothing about the planet’s existence had been proven, but rumors were all over the internet. Intersex people. Desert planet. Bone Dragons. Of course, the plausibility of humanlike life that far away—let alone dragon life—seemed doubtful, but that didn’t stop me from printing out supposed “pictures” of Bone Dragons spotted visiting Earth many years ago, their wings like two thorny tree branches against the cloud cover above them.

  The class filed through the rows of reclining chairs to the hallway, where chaos reigned in the three minutes between first and second period. Couples made out without regard for common decency; friends gossiped about who was applying for which colleges. The whole hallway smelled like burnt toast, which I assumed came from the Bunsen burners used in chemistry labs.

  Needing my copy of 1984, I stopped by my locker on the second floor of the science building, though I knew the longer walk would probably make me late for class. Inside my locker I’d hung a copy of the star map, a tabloid clipping about a dragon sighting, two large green feathers I’d found in the woods, and a photo of something that looked like a creature made of bones that I’d seen flying in front of the moon years ago. Plus another photo, this one of my best friend from California, Lacey, wearing a dozen flowers in her curly blonde hair.

  “Crap,” I muttered when I realized I’d left my copy of the book at home. Miss Taylor hated when we had to share books, especially on quiz days when she assumed we were passing answers back and forth. I didn’t feel like being yelled at by two teachers in one day. I pulled out the contents of my locker and checked the back just in case, but the book was nowhere to be found.

  “Wow, I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you say anything that wasn’t about a star.”

  Startled, I dropped my pile of binders on the floor. Egret bent to help me pick them up, and she came just close enough that I could smell cigarette smoke on her cracked leather jacket. She wore that jacket and her black combat boots every single day, changing only the color of her flannel button-down, ripped jeans, and jewelry. In what I’d heard was a form of environmental protest, Egret dyed her long hair dark green with light green streaks. She was the leader of the school’s punk crowd, and this was one of the first times she wasn’t surrounded by her adoring fans.

  “Thanks.” I shoved my binders back into my locker. “Sorry. I just realized I forgot my book at home, and Miss Taylor’s going to be pissed.”

  “Here, take mine.” She pulled her copy of 1984 out of her cross-body bag, which was covered in band pins, and handed it to me.

  “Really? You don’t mind?”

  “Why would I? Just meet me here at the end of the day and give it back.”

  I took the book and put it in my own standard-issue backpack. Next to Egret, I was suddenly aware of
how nerdy I looked in my khaki pants and navy polo. My last school had been a prep school, where polos were the norm and caring about class was encouraged, and I still hadn’t adjusted to public school life.

  “By the way, what’s up with your locker?” she asked as she raised her eyebrows toward the star chart.

  “Oh… that. I’m mildly obsessed with space.”

  “Mildly?”

  “My mom works for NASA, so she and I do a lot of astronomical stuff together. Star gazing, meteor shower nights, that kind of stuff.”

  “Cool.”

  I couldn’t tell if she really meant that or not, but I didn’t care. Egret was talking to me for the first time ever, and I just wanted the conversation to continue.

  “Hey, listen,” I said as she closed her locker, “maybe when we meet up later I could help you study for the astronomy test tomorrow? It’s the least I can do in return for lending me your book.”

  “Study?” She looked at me like I’d suggested murder. “I never study.”

  “Oh. Well, let me buy you a coffee, then?”

  “Fine. But I’m driving.” This seemed like a challenge, but for what, I did not know.

  “Great. Coffee it is.”

  Egret took a few steps down the hall, then called over her shoulder, “Oh, and Luke?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m not into dudes. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  She turned the corner right as the bell rang. I took off in the other direction at top speed, praying that for once Miss Taylor would see it in her heart not to publicly embarrass me.

  All day I could barely concentrate. I took the quiz on 1984 and wrote an incomprehensible essay on the dangers of totalitarianism, then sailed through calculus with no memory of the review of derivatives of trigonometric functions. Study hall was forty-five minutes of staring out the window at the dreary fall day, and health class was another forty-five minutes of the same.

  I’m not into dudes was all that went through my brain.

  I’d suspected as much since the first day of school, when one of Egret’s followers, a girl named Izzie, had confronted Egret at our lockers. “How could you just drop me like that?” Izzie had demanded over and over through tears, while Egret reminded her that she didn’t “do relationships—wasn’t that what they’d agreed to?” and then, when reasoning didn’t work, spent the rest of the fight inspecting her black nail polish with an expression somewhere between boredom and disdain. Poor Izzie still trailed Egret through the halls, but now she did it from a safe distance and under the guise of mutual friends. I’d also seen Egret with a few other girls throughout my first month at Eagle High, but none of them stayed around for long. In her defense even I knew her warning by heart—after all, I’d heard her recite it about a hundred times already. “If you want to hang out, I’m interested, but don’t expect anything more from me. Got it? Are you sure?”

  Apparently, none of the girls really “got it.”

  Finally, eighth period released me, and I rushed back to my locker to look for Egret. I hoped she hadn’t changed her mind; I couldn’t afford a car, so if I missed the bus while waiting for her, my only other option would be walking the five miles to our apartment. Awkwardly I smoothed my curly blond hair down around my ears and straightened my already perfectly straight collar.

  After what seemed like ages, Egret rounded the corner.

  “I thought you’d changed your mind,” I said as I handed over 1984, then instantly regretted the words because they made me sound desperate.

  “Nope. I’ve got to be home for dinner at 7:00, but until then, I’m yours.”

  All of her books, along with her backpack, went into her locker—she hadn’t exaggerated about her policy on studying—and then she dangled her keys in front of my face.

  “Come on, Space Boy. Let’s get caffeinated.”

  Chapter Two

  EGRET’S CAR turned out to be a huge van painted black inside and out. Battery-powered string lights lit the dark back section, which was otherwise empty besides a few wool blankets laid down like carpet.

  “I play the drums in a band,” she explained as I climbed into the passenger’s seat. “Thus the space requirements. Plus, it comes in handy for other things too.”

  Several seconds of eyebrow raising went by before I caught her meaning. I couldn’t help it; I blushed.

  “So where to, Space Boy?”

  I thought fast. I didn’t want to chance running into other kids from high school, especially any of Egret’s special friends. Some of her groupies had been known to follow her, and one had even stabbed a rival lover with a paperclip during homeroom. Being seen with her would, at best, make me the target of every desperate question the girls had; at worst, they might start sending the paperclips my way.

  “How about Starbucks takeout and then the park? That’s my favorite place around here so far, because it’s so quiet and no one ever bothers you. Do you know that our school, Eagle High, is named after Eagle Park? Back when we humans were ripping down all the trees we could get our hands on, people thought Eagle Park might be next, so they named the school after—”

  “Are you always this nerdy?” Egret asked as she pressed her finger against the key panel and brought the van to life. “Because I thought I was getting a drink with my locker mate, not an encyclopedia.”

  “Sorry, I just—”

  “I’m teasing, Space Boy, it’s fine. You’re just way smarter than everyone else I know.”

  Eagle Park was right next to Starbucks, so once we ordered our extra-large bold coffees from the automated system and paid the machine, we parked in the Eagle Park lot and found a bench near the entrance to drink them.

  “The trees here are so beautiful,” I said between sips from my paper cup. “Most of the parks in California were destroyed by city expansion a long time ago, and those that weren’t have dried up from desertification.”

  “They just look like boring old pines and elms to me,” Egret said, “but then again, I’ve lived here my whole life. Even our one-hundred-thirty-foot trees, the largest ones in New England, aren’t going to impress me.”

  “Now who sounds like a textbook?” I teased.

  “Touché. My parents work in landscaping, so trees have been a huge part of my life, like it or not. They’re also completely anti-technology, so they live like it’s 1900.” Egret looked up, as though her parents might be listening from somewhere in the clouds. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them. They can just be a little too ‘hippie tree hugger’ for me sometimes. They don’t really get the whole ‘punk rock’ thing, to say the least.”

  “Everyone’s parents can be like that. My mom’s awesome, literally one of the smartest people I know, but even she can be narrow-minded when it comes to… certain things about me.”

  “Oh really? Are your collared shirts not ironed enough for her? Or is it your perfect test scores that she can’t quite accept?”

  I thought back to the beginning of summer, when Lacey and I had stolen a bottle of her mom’s tequila and gotten so drunk that dressing me up in her mother’s wedding dress had seemed like a brilliant idea. There I was, surrounded by white tulle and crowned by a lace veil, when my mom and Lacey’s mom came home early from their girl’s night and found our living room fashion show. Perhaps my mom could have written off the dress as a prank, but the pink lipstick and heels? The bra and padding? Thong underwear? Not so much. Plus, word got around, and even the other moms in book club were saying nasty things like, Helen Hawthorne’s son is a “tranny,” as they called me behind my back and to their children, who spit that word at me every chance they got.

  We needed to move for her job, she’d said. Maine would offer more opportunities for both of us, she’d said.

  I knew better.

  “Earth to Luke.” Egret waved a hand in front of my face. “Are you still in there?”

  “Oh. Sorry.” I tried to think of an excuse, but something behind Egret’s shoulder distracted me.
“Hey, do you see those red lights behind you? They almost look like eyes.”

  Egret froze. Then slowly, using only her neck and head, she turned. The red eyes watched her move, black pupils focusing in and out like a camera lens, and then they blinked.

  “Oh my god,” Egret whispered under her breath. “They’ve come for me.”

  “They? Who’s they?”

  “There’s no time to explain. Listen, I’m going to do something crazy, and it’s not going to make sense, but you need to trust me. Okay?”

  “Okay, but—”

  Suddenly, Egret began to sprout feathers. They grew from her skin like buds in spring opening into flowers, until her whole body was covered in them. The color, deep green and lime, matched her hair perfectly. As though the transition to bird creature was not strange enough, Egret also grew—first one foot, and then another, until the span of each of her arms was as long as my whole body. Speaking of arms, these went too, becoming wings that she flapped expertly.

  The red eyes got closer, and then they became a man. Naked except for a cloth around his waist, the man’s skin was dark red and his bald head was decorated with strange black symbols. These tattoo-like images also decorated his arms and legs, and when he focused his eyes on me, the symbols flashed a fiery red and then returned to black. He looked larger and stronger than any real man I had ever seen, evidenced by the snap of every tree branch in his way.

  Get on, a voice told me. The bird previously known as Egret bowed her head, and reluctantly, I climbed on top of her. The red man grabbed my ankle, and no matter hard I kicked, he held on tightly. My fingers found two feather holds—each feather on her back as strong as a grasping hand—and as soon as my body was secure on her back, Egret took off. The weight of the man almost pulled me off Egret’s side, but finally, he slipped off my pant leg and fell the few feet between us and the ground. Again he made a move for my leg, but by then, Egret had flown just out of his reach.