The Dragon Lady (The Dracosinum Tales)

by Angelique S. Anderson

  When he finished reading, flipping the book this way and that as he studied the drawings, he closed the ancient pages, latched the book closed, and stared at the desktop for a long while, not speaking. Wylie had long since stopped pacing when he finally lifted his eyes from the surface in front of him and turned to face her.

  “Miss, may I ask a perfectly serious question?”

  She nodded her head in response.

  “Have you turned the dial at the top, in the manner in which this book says?” The question caused her breath to catch. What he was asking, what it implied was the very thing she feared. If she performed the action, it would mean stepping from reality into an alternate fantasy in which good and evil dragons, and gods, are real. A situation that Wylie was not sure if she wanted to embrace just yet.

  She vigorously shook her head from side to side and purposefully avoided his gaze.

  “Well, I can’t say that I blame you. I’m not sure if I would be able to, either.”

  “I’m sorry?” Wylie responded.

  “I said, I can't say that I blame you… actuating the balance of good and evil? It’s a heavy burden. Please consider one thing though. If you will.” She offered him a nod, urging him to go on. “If you are indeed a Dragaleth, and you have a purpose to fulfill, then that means you are one or the other. That also means that your opposite is already roaming the Earth. If you are the Siapheg, then your good counterpart roams freely, unchallenged, and that can't be a terrible thing. However, if you are the Teselym... That means you are the only thing separating death from life, illness from wellness, and deceit from truth. We need you; the people need you. Consider that, before you disregard it completely, eh?”

  She couldn’t move or think and hardly even breathe at what he was suggesting.

  “Please, Dr. Mullins, you don’t honestly consider this to be true?” He didn’t answer but disappeared into the back room again. When he emerged, he was holding a heavy quilt and pillow.

  “Here, please, sleep here tonight. There’s a bench just there; you can pull the cushions off and sleep on the floor if you desire. Please don’t venture out onto the streets. You have it on my honor, I will not bother you in your sleep. You can leave whenever you like. I just don’t want you out on the streets alone; it isn’t safe. A man was killed not far from here just a fortnight ago. A good man, a captain.”

  She nearly choked on her own spittle.

  “A fortnight ago?”

  “Well, a fortnight and a day. They say he was murdered by some beast, but they’ve been unable to determine what kind. A large dog, perhaps? No one has seen it.”

  “That was the night my father passed.” She bowed her head, taking the blanket and pillow from the man’s hands before retiring to the corner of the shop, where the bench was.

  “I’m sorry for your father’s passing.” He seemed to know something, so much more than what he was saying, but he didn’t continue the conversation. Dr. Mullins pulled the lever for his kaleidoscope lighting system down a few notches, which sent the room into near darkness except for the softer light of an oil lamp sitting on the counter, near the books. He left her alone with her thoughts and disappeared into the back room.

  Wylie picked her way over to the bench in the dim light and decided to just lie on it, covering herself with the quilt rather than move the cushions onto the floor as he had suggested. Try as she might, she was unable to sleep. The sudden news of the Captain’s death screamed loud and long in her mind, making sleep impossible. If I am going to accept what I read about the Dracosinum as truth, then it’s possible that the Teselym and Siapheg exist. As in, this very time… this very century. She turned over on her other side, her mind reeling. If the Captain was killed by a beast the very same night my father died, is it really such a leap to think that a Dragaleth killed him? Is that why the beast has never been found?

  She turned the Dracosinum over in her hands, running her fingers over the cool bronze of the dragon wings on the outside. Am I really considering that my father was a Dragaleth? What if he just had the Dracosinum because it was passed down to him? Except the very night he died, a man was murdered? Her mind was starting to put the pieces together.

  If it was passed down to him, it was for one reason, and one reason alone. She gasped, the idea clarifying itself, though it still felt out of reach. Incomprehensible. If that man was killed by such a thing, and my father died the same night, then that means my father was a Siapheg and killed the Captain, and then he was killed by the Teselym for doing such a thing… or my father was the Teselym, and the Siapheg killed the man, and then killed my father, possibly. But why?

  Her father had never hurt a fly, not in all the years she had known him, so why would he kill someone the night he died? She stuffed the Dracosinum under the cushion beneath her head and closed her eyes. I’m going mad to think that all of this mythology is real. There is nothing to balance good and evil, but the gods themselves. If anyone knew what I am considering this night, I would be committed for sure. Just as the sun started to rise, she finally fell asleep.

  When Wylie awoke, she was in a strange bed, and the smell of coffee invaded her nostrils. Coffee, a luxury she was never able to afford. Looking around, she saw a small three-legged stool next to the bed with a glass of water on it. Realizing she was no longer on the bench she had fallen asleep on, the Dracosinum immediately came to mind, and she searched the bedding thoroughly for it. Not finding it, she jumped up and rushed out into the shop.

  “Where’s the Dracosinum?” She demanded, not giving a thought to the two men and a woman who were there browsing. Her appearance surprised them, and one of the men snickered softly.

  Dr. Mullins grabbed her roughly by the elbow and guided her into the back room, from where she had come.

  “Shh... Do you want the whole world to know?” Her eyes widened at his sudden gruffness, and his firm grip on her arm. “Did you even look, or like a chav of a girl, did you just assume I had stolen it?” A blush of embarrassment crept into her cheeks.

  “My apologies, Dr. Mullins. It was a shock to find it missing.”

  “Well, for a woman who requires a certain level of discretion, you certainly didn’t think about the fact that I might have customers? Or that your tousled hair and wrinkled clothes may cause said customers to think some funny business took place here last night? I have a professional image to uphold, miss.”

  “You have a professional image to uphold? What of my virtue?”

  “You are the one who came into the shop with all guns blazing.”

  She huffed, “How dare you! What have you done with my Dracosinum? As soon as it’s in my hands, I will be well on my way.”

  He walked over to a shelf that contained a number of books, and grabbed the Dracosinum, thrusting it into her hands.

  “Here,” he turned his back and walked away from her. Wylie would have run straight out, at that very moment, except her gallies were missing from her feet. She glanced around for them, but they didn’t appear to be in the room. She decided they must be out in the shop area but wisely chose to wait for the customers to leave before running out willy-nilly again.

  The memories of the previous night played themselves out in her mind. She turned the Dracosinum over and over in her hand, admiring the emeralds. She wished she could sell it for what it was worth, but knew that the information she had learned last night would ensure that would never happen. If she was to accept the contents of the book as fact, it was more than likely that keeping the Dracosinum in her possession was key to her future. She would have to find another way to save Lugwallow Parish.

  Lugwallow. The widow Turpin! What would the widow Turpin think of my overnight absence? She heard exchanges of pleasantries in the shop, and the door open and close, so she knew it was safe to go out and look for her boots. There they stood as plain as day near the front door as if waiting patiently for her to retrieve them. Slipping them on and lacing them up, she felt Dr. Mullin
s eyes on her.

  “My apologies for earlier, Dr. Mullins. You have been nothing but a gentleman to me. Please, how much do I owe you for allowing me to sleep here last night?”

  He waved his hand as if to stop her. “Nonsense, I don’t want your money. I am the one who should be apologizing. I’ve just been a bit riled up. I was a boy when I first heard of the Dragaleth, but at that age, it was just a game to me. A fun story. Never in a million years would I have thought it to be true. Except, the item you have in your possession is so exquisite that I imagine that a god must have created it. Also, I have to apologize because I said I wouldn’t disturb you while you were sleeping, but this morning when I went to wake you, you were sleeping so soundly, I simply picked you up and carried you to my bed before I opened the shop.”

  “I didn’t realize you had tucked the Dracosinum under your pillow. It hit the floor pretty hard, but when I went back to examine it, I saw there wasn’t a single scratch on it. I suspect it has some sort of protection or spell on it to keep it safe,” he said as he continued his work, his voice softer than it had been earlier.

  “Yes, I found that to be true myself. I’ve dropped it a time or two as well. Anyway, I must be on my way. My home parish is in trouble, and I’m sure my absence will raise questions.” She nodded politely at him, tucking the Dracosinum in her pouch once more.

  “Yes, yes, I understand. Just a moment, please.” He raised one finger as he walked back to his dusty workspace and picked up the ragged leather book with its buckles and straps that informed Wylie of her destiny. “Here, it’s likely you will need this more than I. Take it. Please.” His gaze was earnest.

  “Oh, I can’t! I can't do that, Doctor.”

  “If you are sent here by the gods as that book indicates, then I’ve fulfilled my purpose by giving that book to the person who truly needs it. Maybe you can put in a good word for me?” he said as he smiled.

  Wiley simply grinned in return, completely overwhelmed by the doctor’s kindness.

  “If it is as this book says, I’ll make sure you get a special reward, Dr. Mullins,” she replied, her eyes tearing up at his unexpected generosity. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had been away from home too long and also reminding her of her other duties, to feed Lord Adrian’s horses. “Thank you for your kindness! Truly, thank you!” He nodded, giving her another stubble-faced grin as she hurried out into the day. Her eyes were immediately assaulted by the bright sunshine.

  “Don’t forget to stop by if you ever need anything!” he called after her. Wylie nodded agreement as the shop door closed behind her.

  It felt like she had been hidden away in a cave for years, and it took her a moment to acclimate. Had she been so caught up in her own petty drama that a whole day had passed? Had she really stayed the night with a strange man, in his shop? God help me if anyone I know gets wind that I stayed the night with an older man, alone. I’ll never hear the end of it.

  She tucked the worn book under her arm and set off at a brisk pace. She tried to straighten her hair out as she went, re-braiding it tighter, and checked that her goggles were securely in place. She was not used to getting to Lord Adrian’s stables so late. Surely, he would chastise her for doing so, and the fear in her heart made her hurry all the more. Now that Adrian’s father had passed, and he had professed his true feelings, Wylie was sure he would take whatever actions necessary to cover up those feelings for her. She was almost certain that would involve firing her.

  Never in a million years would he allow anyone to think less of him, nor would she want them to. If anyone found out the truth, it may quite possibly destroy everything that Lord Adrian’s family had worked to build. She smiled to herself once again daydreaming about his handsome face. She would adore being Lady Wylie McCollum. She imagined servants laying out her fine dresses day after day. Having her clothes scented of lilac and smelling like a small slice of heaven. She allowed the warm thoughts and daydreams of a fairytale lifestyle to carry her swiftly to the stables.

  The sun was once more beginning to set just as Wylie was arriving. She wasted no time, dragging sacks of grain to their feeding troughs. A servant had set out a fresh crate of apples and carrots, and she grabbed several of each, mixing them with their grain so that they could snort through and find the treats. The moment Chaos caught wind of her scent, he nickered loudly.

  “Hello Chaos, my lovely.” She ran her hand over his soft nose as she walked past. Like brushing velvet, she had lost count of the number of times she had laid her head against it and shared her sorrows. After she had fed them all, she slipped a halter on Chaos and led him out of his stall to brush him. “Chaos, I don’t know how much longer I can be here.”

  He nickered and stamped his left leg.

  “I know, I love you, too.” She let out a long exasperated sigh. “Soon you will have a new mistress.” A tear rolled down her face. Losing her father, her home, and now possibly her job. It was all a bit much. She groomed his luxurious black coat with great care as she told him about the Dragaleth and what she had learned. She was trying hard to wrap her mind around all that had happened in the last day and a half. When she was finished brushing him, she led him back to his stall and rested her head against his neck, his coarse mane tickling her nose.

  The day was rapidly turning to night. She had been nearly twenty-four hours without food, and though the hunger pains had come and gone, she knew she needed to get home. It wasn’t such a long walk, but the looming darkness felt threatening, even with a gun tucked in her belt. She wasn’t sure how safe she felt. She closed Chaos back in his stall and patted the mares before taking a deep breath of resolve and heading off to Lugwallow. She kept her hand on the butt of the little gun, holding it firmly as she walked, afraid a robber or some other undesirable would try to come after her.

  Having worked herself into quite a tizzy, she soon realized it was too cold for most people to be on the street, and the beggars she passed were more interested in seeking warmth. The one moment when she thought she heard something, she pulled her gun so fast and turned around to face whoever was following her that the beggar took one look at her and ran off into a dank and dirty alleyway. The look on his face was one of pure fear.

  “Edward! Oh, I’m terribly sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She immediately felt guilt at her actions. She hadn’t meant to scare poor old Mr. Palmer. He was as harmless as they came, and she often brought him fruit or bread on her way home from Lord Adrian’s. He had already retreated to the alleyway and showed no sign of coming back out, which only deepened her guilt. I’ll make sure to pick him up something extra special to eat tomorrow, to make up for it, she resolved.

  Getting back to her home couldn’t happen soon enough for Wylie. One day felt like an eternity being away from the only place she really felt safe. Even the rough time the door gave her when she had to yank it open didn’t bother her. She happily locked it behind her, sliding the latches into place. She needed a warm bath and a long sleep, but most importantly, food.

  She set about lighting the stove, anxious to use as little gas as possible, but needing to cook a few vegetables as well as heat water for her bath. She would have to pump the water and then heat it on the stove, but it was so much better than trying to bathe with cold water. She would bathe and then eat, and in the morning she would visit the widow Turpin to find out what the people of Lugwallow Parish had decided to do.

  Chapter Ten

  The golden sunlight streaming in the next morning comforted Wylie with its welcome warmth. She had fallen asleep in her father’s bed again, and the familiar scent of him invading her nostrils caused her emotions to waver between nostalgic pleasure and pain from his loss.

  As she sat up, the weight of something heavy in her hand drew her attention.

  “The Dracosinum.” She didn’t even remember pulling it from its protective pouch on her utility belt. How did this get around my neck? She remembered going to bed in a nightgown, b
ut she also remembered placing her utility belt on the dresser. What on God’s Earth is happening? She stared severely at the Dracosinum, willing it to tell her its secrets, but it remained uncooperative. “Do you have something to do with my foggy memory?”

  Just then, loud knocking came from the front door, startling her so that she nearly dropped the thing on the ground. Lord Adrian, again? Had he come to see her for the second day in a row? Her heart nearly burst from the anticipation of seeing his face. Perhaps he had decided against marrying Judith. Perhaps the agony of his love was too much, and he realized that he must marry Wylie and steal her away to Dobbinsturn, to be Lady of his estate.

  “Fairy tales, Wylie. Pull yourself together… you’re far too level-headed for this sort of nonsense.” Or so she had thought, but then again, that was before the idea of the dragon myth had invaded her imagination. She leaned out of her father’s room and yelled, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Lord Adrian would not catch her off-guard today. She would wear her corset and brush her hair before answering the door. When she was properly dressed, and feeling somewhat like a lady, she rushed to the door and opened it with a radiant smile on her face. “Please your Lord…” But it was not Lord Adrian that greeted her.

  “Lady Judith. What are you doing here?” she asked, her smile fading.

  Judith couldn’t meet her eyes, and simply mumbled,

  “My father has sent me to inform you that you have ten days to vacate your residence before he comes and evicts you himself.” Lady Judith put a small leather pouch which clinked with coins in Wylie’s palm, along with an official looking paper with the large word EVICTION printed at the top. “It’s not a lot, but it will help you find another place. I am so very sorry, Wylie. I tried to stop him.”