“We’re teaching economics to a dragon, something went wrong here,” David said, rubbing his face.
He lowered it and almost looked to be crying. To be fair, it wasn’t the best opening, but hey, he wanted to know what he was eating.
“So, who do these bonemancers target to market their goods?”
Bonemancers, that was a funny way to put it. I placed another dog treat into his little nest, and he started to munch on the thing. I also put a few bits of bacon in there for him.
“What’s this?” he asked, looking at it.
“That’s simple, that’s just pigskin or part of their muscle. David, which part of the pig is–”
“You’re attempting to feed me swine?” The dragon seemed offended.
“Any reason why swine would be bad? If it’s just that they are considered dirty, the bits are cleaned and cooked so there shouldn’t be a problem,” David said.
“Huh, didn’t expect a dragon to want things kosher.” I put my own hand to my chin.
“You humans have way too many concepts,” the dragon said, sniffing the bacon bits and munching down on them.
“Do, do you think we’re good? Just talk to him and explain the modern world and keep him fed?” David asked.
“No, right now he trusts us to feed him, but I don’t think he trusts us as much as Silvia did when we first met.”
“You’d jumped in to save Silvia’s life without a second’s thought. Unless he’s in mortal danger and you step in, I don’t think he’ll be at that level… and anyone else’s trust level was either caused by a session of small talk and suturing or the fact that we knew Silvia.”
“This Silvia, why did you save it?”
“Oh, that’s a long story…”
“Is there a time limit on your interaction?” The dragon sounded so wise despite its age – it really was something to behold.
“That’s a human expression. It means they don’t really want to go into it, but I guess I should,” I said, leaning back on the bed.
“Human culture requires this deceit?”
“Uh, that’s complicated. In essence, deceit is looked down upon, but there are times where there are ways to say things that are different from what you want to say, that you say to be polite?”
The dragon finished off the bacon bits and went back to the doggy treat. Watching his small mouth open wide and then crunch down with the force that presumably could shatter bone was unnerving. That is if what the dragon thought he could do was true.
We watched him eat for a good few moments, then the dragon started to explore outside the nest of sweaters. He didn’t have gecko-like feet, but his claws and talons were long enough to help him climb up the dresser.
He peered out the window. Half of what was there were untouched grasslands, with a shooting range way off in the distance. To the left was a dirt road and a bit of suburbia peeking out. He seemed to peer that way, looking at all the houses.
“This realm… I was not prepared for this realm.”
“What were you prepared for?” I asked.
“I expected knights, peasants, presumably a few creatures lower than dragon kind, a group of Kobold servants if I was lucky.”
“It is surprising how much you know just out of the egg. I don’t suppose you know how that works.”
“Dragons are creatures of great intellect and wisdom – of course, we’re born knowing of our worlds and their strife,” he said, turning his entire body back towards us.
“Speaking of strife, how’re we going to deal with Valkyrie?” David said, looking back and forth between us. “I mean, even if you gain the trust of this dragon, she’s unlikely to give you a pass just for doing what most leaders do.”
“Excuse me?” the dragon said, looking annoyed.
“Uh, well, you see, many people of the magical community here have adopted dragons, and it’s a sign of a good leader when a dragon chooses to assist you,” he said, realizing he’d drifted back into the two in one fire breath area.
“Magical community, as opposed to?” the dragon said.
Our expressions turned from panic at offending the little guy to confusion. “Uh, the mundane populace?”
The dragon’s eyes squinted. “There are more mundane than magically enabled beings?” it asked.
David seemed rather confused, though a bit of indignance slipped in. “Yeah, actually the magical community tries its best to keep magic from crossing over and causing havoc,” David explained.
“What of this Valkyrie, what is the situation with her?” the dragon asked, settling down on his tiny legs.
“She’s a leader of a different division to us,” I started.
“Since E-lis here is new, along with Genki, our kitsune, and Fumnaya, our… uh, mage, plus they aren’t exactly what we work with – werewolves, witches mages etc – she’s on edge and actively becoming hostile,” David explained.
“Would it not be better to include more kinds of magic users? Artificers, alchemists, mystics etc,” the dragon asked.
“Ah-ha! Alchemists do exist!” I said, smiling smugly.
“As far as we can tell those don’t exist. I mean, you explaining that to them might be cause for a book to be written and shared with the rest of the community…”
“Ah, a book to be shared with all – that ought to start off my hoard nicely. How much gold does one fetch these days?” the dragon said, rubbing his little hands together.
“Uh, well, two problems. One, books were one of the first things mass-produced and two, gold is not currency anymore,” I explained.
“Why does everything cycle back to economics?” David moaned.
“Is gold linked to this… economics?” the dragon asked.
“I mean, technically,” I said.
“Very well. Teach me all you can about it so I may gather my hoard.”
“Oh man, I’m going to be making a business to give gold to a dragon, aren’t I?” David said, looking down at the drawer.
“What is a business?” the dragon asked.
I sighed. “Okay, I think we’re going to keep the economics discussion for after we deal with the current predicament. If we don’t get out of it, I’m sure whoever decides to care for him will be able to teach him about economics.”
“Pft, you think the Galvonians know economics?” David said, smirking.
“They make more money than the rest of the community, why wouldn’t they know economics?”
“Galvonians? A race of people I am unfamiliar with,” the dragon asked.
“Close. It’s a family, a family that controls all of North America when it comes to running magical communities and you know, Valkyrie’s family,” David explained.
“So, you’ve caught the ire of a higher household, and now I have a web of intrigue to remember,” the dragon grunted.
“Don’t beat yourself up. Even slowly wading into intrigue I found that it was over my head… we’ll work on it together!”
“Slowly wading! The first night you knew magic existed some cultist was chasing you through the streets,” David scoffed.
“Yeah, well, we were still bad at it. I’m better when the enemy is a long way away and I have my rifle,” I said, sighing.
“I don’t suppose the dragon knows how to summon guns and ammunition?” David asked.
“Why summon something when it is already here?” the dragon asked.
David and I leaned in to give the dragon a quizzical look.
“All things sulfuric are known to a dragon such as myself – it’s how we find lava to bathe and hide in. There are several cold areas that contain sulphur. Unless there’s another use for sulphur I am not aware of, that must be gunpowder.”
“Huh, neat, dragon knows what firearms are, and can sense gunpowder. That could come in handy,” I said.
9
Chapter 9
“Let’s just hope no one has any sulphur-based plasticine or else we’re in trouble.”
“By the gods, how
many concepts do you have?” the dragon said.
Said dragon was now wrapped around my neck. His warm scales felt nice around it actually, and I’d put up a sweater so hopefully, no one noticed that I had him.
“You’re going to hate the lesson on arts and crafts,” David whispered to the dragon.
“Artistic supplies?” the dragon asked.
“Bingo, but one that really doesn’t play well with platinum-based silicone so, like, why even bother?”
“Platinum-based silicone?”
“Oh, he is not going to enjoy the lesson on pigmentation and how much of the stuff we put into art is precious metals,” David said.
“What’s so precious about cobalt other than its colour?” I asked.
I could feel the whole body of my little dragon tense about what we were talking about.
“Remember when we confused that demon with geography? I think we’re having the same effect on that little guy,” David said.
“Oh yeah, we never asked about the gender of the dragon. What gender would you like to identify as?” I asked.
“I… beg your pardon?” the dragon said, lifting his little spiky head up to look at my chin.
“You know what, we’ll get to that. Raising a dragon is hard,” I said.
“I hardly weigh anything, and if you’re referring to rearing, I resent that.”
We got down to the basement. Other than the excess of wine bottled all over the place, there was a gun locker.
“Huh, would you look at that… locked,” I said, sighing.
“That is not where the sulphur is. It’s over that way.” The dragon pointed with his head, to the door just beside the gun locker.
With such a barren basement, minus the presence of the various wine racks, the door seemed highly suspicious.
“I mean, maybe we’d find the key?”
“Who needs a key, when you have a lockpicker?” David said, looking around. “That is, of course, assuming the lockpicker has a lockpick…”
“Maybe try having the tools before boasting that you have the skills,” I said, folding my arms.
“Are you a descendant of the Amazon tribe?” the dragon asked, tilting its head.
“No, I’m just stubborn and know how to glare. A useful skill, we’ll work on it with you.”
“I just need two metal sticks. That can’t be too hard to find, don’t you have a bobby pin in your hair?” he asked.
“Let’s just check the door. That woman’s bound to be plotting against us right now, so we have little choice.” I folded my arms and David tried the doorknob of the door.
It opened, thankfully, into a long, dark and dirt-sided tunnel.
“They dug underground. I like it,” I said, looking down the tunnel. There were wooden support beams and everything. I was really impressed, and my affinity for things underground started to buzz.
“Wait, I know that scent.” David stalked forwards down the hall, and I followed him.
We saw a light, in an area that split off from the tunnel. It seemed to be a little room, still underneath the earth. It sounded like someone was messing with pots and pans.
“Yes, the sulphur is here. It’s getting mixed with something, most likely a fresh batch of gunpowder. There must be an alchemist present,” the dragon said.
“Two alchemists present,” I said, flicking my hair back.
“Actually, one alchemist, and one girl following a recipe POORLY!” David said that last part loud enough for someone else to hear.
“David?” a feminine voice called back, a voice disturbingly close to David’s.
A woman poked her head out. She had short black hair held up in a little bun with a few charms dangling from it.
“Cynthia! Long time, no see,” David said, walking into the room.
“Hey there, little brother, it has been a while, has it? What are you up to? Staying out of trouble?”
“No, we need some guns if you have them,” I said, walking in just a few moments after David.
“What the shit! David!” The girl had on a black tank top, splattered with the debris of several colours of black and brown, and a pair of light brown cargo pants.
“It’s not my fault! Your boss was the one that decided to attack Fumnaya out of the blue! And then, well, I guess she had a point with Genki, but I’m sure it was also a bad call.”
“Wow, those are some exotic names, huh?” Cynthia said, returning to her silver bowl and mixture of gunpowder.
The room, while filled with roots and dried earth above, was fairly well put together, chemistry set in the corner, crates of charcoal and saltpetre on one side and a nearly empty crate of sulphur closer to the tables.
The tables were set up in the middle of the room, and on the far side, held up by the wooden support were targets, making it half-chemistry set, half-firing range.
“Well, yeah, one’s mother really likes to show heritage with her daughter’s name and the other is technically from Japan?”
“Or, at least, got access to Japan’s TV,” I said, shrugging.
We should have asked about that before we got into another mess with him.
“Jeez, no wonder Mom worries about you so much.” The girl pulled her hands away, and I noticed they were both red and burned.
“Oh god, what happened to your hands?” I asked.
“Silver bowl. It makes sure that sparks don’t fly and feels better than a stupid wooden pestle.”
“Your bowl, or mortar, could still be made out of wood, and it’s going to have to be at some point,” David chided.
“Yeah, like I’m totally going to a gunsmith when I have claws to work on anyone and everyone who comes my way. This is just a hobby.”
“Cynthia, you know that guns are more than just combat capacity. Dad keeps telling you this and you never seem to learn it.”
“Wow, okay, no need to be rude. I personally hate brother/sister arguments and we kind of have a pressing matter to attend to,” I said.
“Pffft, someone with a dragon around their neck giving orders. Where have I heard that one before?” Cynthia said.
“Best you follow them, or would you want me giving you the orders?” the dragon said, lifting his head up and trying his best to sound intimidating.
“What’s this guy, a new hatchling or something?” Cynthia said.
She was looking at David and pointing to me with her thumb, like the dragon attempting to get her to follow orders was somehow a naive mistake.
“Yes, actually,” David said, rubbing the back of his head.
“Where’d you people get a dragon egg?” Cynthia said, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, a dragon specifically mentioned being less than egg-laying age went through the Earth portal and was killed in self-defence by those around. The other eggs it had were thrown in with its corpse, to two eager voices,” I said, trying not to look at the dragon.
I didn’t want to lie to the dragon, but telling the truth wasn’t much better.
“Why did you kill my mother? Why only take me?”
“Well, she wouldn’t have been your mother – she was too young, right? She must have been a betraying dragon, taking eggs, and maybe those voices were minions from your mother, eager that the traitor returned dead and most of the eggs unharmed.”
“You really believe that? Sounds like the Earth plane had some dragon hunters or something, though dragons aren’t usually ones to take eggs of their kin and run…”
“Hold on… hold on hold on hold on… One thing at a time, gun locker, key yes or no?” David said, cutting the air with his hand, maintaining order.
“Yes, why do you need them again?” Cynthia asked, giving David a look over.
“We need it because Valkyrie Galvos wants to attack Fumnaya, Genki and E-lis. We have to be able to defend ourselves, and E-lis’ best combat trait so far is marksmanship.”
“Ohhh, really?” David put his hand in front of the girl before she had a chance to speak again.
&nbs
p; “Now, assuming any kind of magic is possible, under the right circumstances, what is the most likely magic to be used in order to make the events of the fleeing dragon with eggs possible?”
“Uh, I don’t know,” I said awkwardly watching as he kept his finger over his sister’s mouth.
“Maybe a love spell, combined with people attacking an empty site? Or an older dragon using it on a younger one to get help watching it while they are out for food?”
“No, that doesn’t seem right,” David said, putting his hand to his chest.
“Remember how you were body swapped by Genki?”
“She was WHAT now?” Cynthia shouted.
“That means that it’s possible to replicate magic from TV shows and cartoons, meaning that there should be a way to do other things. If the dragon that left the portal was too young, then perhaps whoever was trying to get them, used some sort of magic to make them younger. Dragons get more powerful with age, so to hunt one it’d be best to make them younger. Perhaps one could make them have a permanent injury while causing them to grow up and get more scales and meat for less work and more safety.”
“You’re going a little Sherlock Holmes on us, David – either get to the point, or tell me why you need some guns,” Cynthia demanded.
“Hunting dragons?” the dragon said, as his talons dug into my shoulder.
“Ow… OW!”
“If I was someone hunting dragons, and had that kind of power, eggs would be really valuable, wouldn’t they?”
“How so?” Cynthia asked, waving her arm dismissively.
“Well, a newborn dragon would be the most vulnerable. Break its bones and pump some time into it and you have a cripple that’s got just about as much meat on it as any other dragon of that age.”
“Born only to be crippled, grown up magically and killed? That sounds horrible,” I said, biting my lip.
With that deduction, I suddenly felt really bad for tossing two eggs back in.
“By the whim of this human I was saved from certain death,” the dragon said, looking at me.
The Stray Dragon : (A collage age urban fantasy with werewolves werewolf community center book 3) Page 7