Night of the Dragon

by Oliver Urban

  Night of the Dragon

  By

  Oliver Urban

  For everyone who has ever supported my writing,

  and

  for the Korean Girl Group Ladie's Code. You inspire me so much.

  RIP Rise & EunB, please stick together.

  Night of the Dragon

  There are a lot of things that sixteen year old Lilac Xia Jones can handle. Avoiding extraordinary adventures and supernatural dangers isn't one of them. Like the time an evil sorceress cursed her cat with an ancient amulet, or she had to help an alien king fix his DVD player . . .

  Lilac plans to spend the night blogging while her parents attend a party, but when a wayward dragon with great fashion sense is forced to crash land in Lilac's backyard, Lilac realizes she'll have to help the dragon get on its way before her parents get home - or else she'll end up grounded. Again.

  With the help of her talking cat Chester and a pair of angelic wings, Lilac may just be able to fight off the coven of witches that chased the dragon in her yard. If she can just find the perfect hex in her black magic grimoire, that is . . .

  This 4000 word story is the first in the Lilac Jones Adventures

  ***

  ‘Night of the Dragon’ copyright Oliver Urban 2014

  Night of the Dragon

  I'm pretty sure normal teenagers don't have problems like mine.

  I don't go looking for trouble, it just always manages to find me. It comes after me out like a heat seeking-missile or something. For once I just want to spend an evening sitting on the couch with my laptop balanced on my knees and a sea of junk food spread around me like the debris from a very delicious plane crash.

  The universe has other ideas.

  The last time Mom and Dad went out for the night, I ended up battling the evil sorceress next door after she magically destroyed everything in my house capable of producing sound. Honestly, my music wasn't even that loud. Anyway, by the end of the night, the sorceress had made my hair try to strangle me, turned my car keys into a metal tarantula, and cursed my cat Chester to wear an ancient amulet giving him the ability to speak for the rest of his life. Good news for Chester, bad news for me. And despite the fact that I managed to banish the sorceress to another dimension for eternity, my parents still grounded me for 'scaring off the neighbours' and 'disturbing such a nice lady' as if it was all my fault she had lame taste in music and a bad attitude.

  I wasn't trying to start a war, but I know how to finish one.

  After that my parents stopped leaving me home alone overnight. They always get home by eleven at the latest, probably because they figure if they stay out long enough I'll find a way to raise an army of skeletons to do my bidding or buy a magical potion from one of the bag ladies that wander through the neighbourhood from time to time. But tonight for the first time since I banished the sorceress, Mom and Dad are going to be gone until morning.

  My aunt Lisa is throwing a housewarming party, and since her new place is 45 minutes away, and they refuse both to walk home and also to abstain from casual drinking, I've got the house to myself all night. Well, if you don't count Chester,but just because he can talk doesn't mean he's good company. Cats are notorious snobs.

  I'm hoping tonight goes off without a hitch, just me and the cat, curled up on the couch scrolling through tumblr while cable television drones in the background. Normal teenager stuff for a normal teenage Friday night.

  But with my luck, normal is probably the last thing tonight will be.

  ***

  "No ancient curses, no beheading divine beings, no communicating with long dead relatives," my mother ticks past offences off on her fingers as she slides into her sensible heels, "no destroying the house in a tragic fire, and absolutely no drinks in the family room."

  I swallow back a sigh as I watch her from my spot on the stairs. "Mom, how many times do I have to tell you? Great Grandma Jingfei loves visiting with me, it's not my fault other beings come through the Ouija board sometimes . . ."

  She glares. "Lilac Xia Jones! So help me god if you summon so much as a dust bunny out of the dark void, you will be grounded for the rest of the school year! Do you understand me?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Mom's expression softens, and she bends to kiss me on the head, her hair brushing my cheeks as she moves. "Sweetie, I don't mean to be so hard on you . . . but just once I want to be able to come home without walking in on you swinging a fiery sword at a supreme overlord from another dimension, you know?"

  I shrug, "as far as I'm concerned, the wildest thing going on here tonight is the sugar rush from my slushie." I tilt the clear cup in her direction to show off the sweet liquid inside. Blue raspberry is my favourite.

  Mom smiles as Dad comes into the room, jacket slung over his shoulder. My parents are like the picture perfect suburban couple, just the right blend of beautiful and ordinary to make them the prime candidates for realtors looking to fill a Mc Mansion with a family of four. Dad wraps an arm around Mom's shoulder and places a kiss on the light brown skin of her forehead, adoration filling his eyes.

  "All ready?" Dad asks. Mom pats her pocket to make sure she has her keys, and then they're stepping out the door, my Dad winking back at me as he bends to grab their overnight bags.

  "Tell Aunt Bao I said hi!" I call after them. The door shuts, and I'm alone at last. Finally!

  I bolt up and race over to the window, waiting until I see the lights of the car turn out of the driveway before I flip the lock and head to my own private oasis, the family room. There are some rules I understand, but 'no drinks in the family room' is not one of them. The family room is like heaven but with faster wifi and better lighting, especially since we had to replace the surround sound system after the whole evil sorceress incident. I drop onto the couch, flip open my laptop, and take a giant slurp of my slushie. I'm all set to spend the entire night laying around, pigging out and reblogging gifs of my favourite K-pop idols. Life is good.

  Then I hear the crash.

  The entire house shakes and I'm jolted off the couch with a yelp. My slushie flies out of my hands and crashes onto the thick beige carpet, the slimy juice spilling all over the place, sure to leave a stain. Picture frames fall from the mantle over the fire place, and I hear Chester meow in outrage and shock from down the hall.

  "Ouch!" I slammed my butt on the edge of the coffee table on my way down. Fantastic.

  I swear, if that was an earthquake caused by the evil sorceress come looking for revenge, I'll do more than banish her to another dimension this time, the whack job.

  "Lilac!" Chester darts into the room and leaps onto the coffee table, looking graceful and disgruntled at the same time, the way only a cat can. His dark grey fur is a ruffled mess. "You need to see—" he pauses mid-sentence, his head tilting as he observes the goopy blue mess soaking into the carpet. "You're a dead girl."

  "I know."

  "You stained your mother's new carpet."

  "I know."

  "She's going to flay you alive."

  "I know, Chester! You're not helping!"

  He whips his tail back and forth. "What do you suppose I do? Use my magical powers to clean up your mess?"

  "You say that as if you don't have any powers, and yet, you're a talking cat." I point at the ancient ruby amulet affixed to his ratty collar. "Anyway, I'm way more worried about the mini-quake we just lived through. What was that? Is that alien king back here again? If he thinks I'm helping him fix his DVD player again he's got another thing coming . . ."

  Chester sighs. "Not even close."

  I wrinkle my nose. What the heck is going on? Obviously I'm going to have to deal with something I'd rather not tonight. Although, I guess a mini earthquake is better than a mini-tsunami,
so maybe I should take what I can get. At least Mom and Dad won't be home until tomorrow: that should at least give me time to make sure no more natural disasters go down around the house.

  "Okay. What's going on then? Just tell me fast, it's like ripping off a band-aid."

  "A dragon just landed in the backyard."

  Okay, so hearing that hurt so much more than ripping off a band-aid. "Why can't we ever have a normal evening?"

  Chester doesn't answer, instead he hops off the table and vanishes down the hall in the direction of the back door. I jump up to follow. Okay, dragon in the backyard. I can handle this. I can sort this out. It can't be as bad as the pop quiz we got in math today, or the time I punched Jason Stormbrook in the face for calling the head cheerleader a skank. I square my shoulders and brace myself.

  It's just a dragon. How bad could it be?

  ***

  The dragon is wearing glittery pink nail polish and fake eyelashes. That's the first thing I notice when I step into the yard. The giant crater under her ass is the second. The smoke trailing out from her mouth and drifting into the star-filled sky is the third.

  Okay. So she's a fashionista dragon.

  She gives off the smell of cheap perfume and fire, parked in the center of the yard, her two big beady eyes fix on me as soon as I step outside. Chester waits in the doorway behind me, clearly eager to watch me deal with her but unwilling to step far enough outside for her to gobble him up. What a trooper he is.

  "Uh, hi?" I wave a hand at her and try not to look too angry. After all, I don't want to offend her. The last thing I need tonight is a battle with an angry she-dragon. I don't even have an enchanted sword or a quiver of poison-tipped arrows. "Can I help you?"

  The dragon leans in close, her massive body shifting, red scales moving like a field of poppies caught in a breeze, so red they remind me of Chester's ruby amulet. She raises a single penciled-in brow at me. "I don't know, can you?"

  "Well, that depends on what you need I guess. But you see, you kind of crash landed in my backyard, and if you're still here when my parents get home tomorrow, they're gonna kill me." I really hope she isn't planning to sleep here or something. I push a strand of dyed purple hair behind my ear and do my best to smile politely.

  "Well, human girl-"

  "Lilac."

  "Well, Lilac, I have had a very troubling night. I was flying on my way to my cousin Yancy's wedding to this insufferable beast named Sheila, and I got lost in the air! I thought I would ask a coven of witches that was flying nearby for directions, and when I made one little innocent comment about the state of their split-ends, they tried to curse me!"

  "Uh-huh . . . "

  "Now the nasty things are out for blood! They attacked me mid-air and I had no choice but to drop down in your yard and hope they lost interest in me."

  "Unlikely." I cross my arms. I know all about vengeful witches. Of course I would never be stupid enough to tell an entire coven that they needed to start using a new conditioner before their hair started to look like the ends of their brooms. Still, I can't help but feel a little sympathetic for the dragon: plus, I am Chinese. Mom and Dad are always saying I should take more interest in our culture, and dragons have always played a big part in Chinese mythology. And if I want her out of here, then helping her equals helping myself.

  "Okay, fine, alright. I'll deal with the witches, but you have to promise me you'll leave as soon as I get rid of them. Deal?"

  The dragon sticks out a single glittery pink claw for me to shake, and I grasp it tightly. She smiles. "I'm Monique."

  "Nice to meet you."

  I drop her hand and turn to head back into the house. "I'll be right back, I just need to grab a few things from my room first!"

  Chester follows me as I bolt down the hall and up the stairs, into my bedroom. My lava lamp glows from the desk in the corner, the bright green light reflecting off the shiny band posters lining the walls, and dirty clothes litter the floor. The thick black rug muffles my footsteps as I head past it all and into the closet, where I keep my stash. Mom would kill me if she knew about what I have hidden in here . . .

  "Are you really going to take on an entire coven of witches?" Chester asks.

  "You don't think I can do it?" I pry one of the floorboards up and reach into the space beneath it, groping until I find something to grab.

  After I banished the sorceress next door from this dimension, I helped myself to some of her magical trinkets. I figured they would come in handy one day. I start pulling items out, tossing them aside when they're not what I'm looking for. Crystal ball? Nope. Ancient gold coins? No use for 'em. Authentic Chinese take-out menu? Maybe later tonight. Black magic grimoire? Just what I need. Vial of bright silver potion? Just the thing for dealing with some angry witches.

  "You sure about this?" Chester asks.

  I shrug. "What's the worst that could happen?" Before he can answer, I pop the cork off the glass vial and down the potion in a single swallow. I was saving this potion for a time I would really need it.

  The liquid burns going down, the closet spins, and everything goes black.

  ***

  Figuratively speaking, growing a pair of angelic wings should be a divine and heavenly experience, but in reality, not so much.

  When the world fades back into existence I'm still in the closet, crumpled on the floor while Chester watches the transformation brought on by the potion wreak havoc on my body.

  The potion ripples through my frame, the energy it gives off feels hot enough to melt my bones and I gasp sharply as I feel the skin of my back start to break as cartilage forms, spreading up and out to create the framework of my wings. A few stray feathers come loose and drift down over my side and onto the floor beside my tightly clenched fist. I feel blood drip over the skin of my back, hot and sticky, and just like that the change is over, and I'm the proud new owner of a pair of angel wings.

  Hesitantly, I try to move them. They flap once, then twice, very slowly. They feel tender stretching against my back muscles as they move, delicate and strong all at once. The feathers are a spotless white, long and smooth. Man, I wish I could fly to school on these Monday morning instead of catching the school bus.

  Honestly, I have no idea how long the wings will last. I need to get a move on if I'm gonna deal with this coven.

  "Are you alright?" Chester asks.

  I grit my teeth. "Fine. Let's just get this over with."

  I grab the grimoire and bolt out of the closet. My back is still killer sore, but I don't have time to grab an ice pack. Math class is actually starting to look pretty promising right now: at least numbers and functions don't involve beauty guru dragons and angry witches with bad hair care routines. I'm nearly out the door when the phone rings, breaking the relative silence inside of the house. Crap! I run into the kitchen and grab the cordless off the counter, ready to tell whoever it is to call back.

  "Hello?"

  "Lilac?" Mom's voice sounds scratchy over the bad connection.

  "Mom? What's up?"

  "We're our way home! Bao just called to tell us the party is off. Something about the neighbour's oak tree crushing her garage or something. I just wanted to let you know we'll be back soon, we might swing around and grab a pizza on the way back."

  The entire world crashes down around me. "Uh, how long do you think it will be before you're here?"

  "Hmm, maybe half an hour?"

  "Sounds good. See you soon." I drop the phone and stare at Chester in horror. "Chester. They're coming home!"

  I take off running again, but not before I see an expression that's a cross between fear and amusement on his face.

  I burst out the back door panting like a mad woman, the grimoire tucked under one arm, its cracked leather surface scraping against my skin. Okay, step one: get in the air. I look at the dragon, taking in her massive wings.

  "Got any tips for a first-timer?"

  She snorts, causing smoke to shoot out of the wide nostrils on the tip
of her snout. "Fly? With those tiny things? Good luck honey."

  "Wow, thanks for being so helpful. I'm only sticking my neck out for you." I snap. Monique just shrugs nonchalantly.

  Why couldn't tonight just go as planned?

  Whatever, I have to do this. The sooner I get into the air and get rid of these witches, the sooner Monique the dragon will be out of my hair, and then I'll finally be able to just relax without inciting my mother's wrath.

  So how hard can it be to fly?

  I stretch my wings out again, testing them. If pigeons can do this then so can I. These wings are magic, I know they can hold my weight if I just get myself going. I pick a spot on the privacy fence and take off across the yard, building speed as I run. The fence looms closer and closer, and I'm sure I'll smack into it, but then I jump and my wings catch me. There's a breathtaking moment of weightlessness, and I'm in the air. Yes! I soar into the night sky, watching as the house and the yard grow smaller and smaller below me. The entire neighbourhood stretches out until I can see the traffic on the highway in the distance, the bright lights of the nearest gas station, and, most importantly, three black dots zooming back and forth in the night sky amidst a backdrop of stars not far from me.

  Somewhere out there, a portal leads to another dimension where the evil sorceress waits for her revenge, a foreign planet's king is watching low-budget romantic comedies on a DVD player I fixed for him, and a couple of dragons are waiting to get married while their fashionable cousin takes sanctuary in my own backyard. It all feels so much bigger than me, like it's all out of my hands. But the fact is, my parents will be home in half an hour, and there is nothing in this world more powerful than a teenager attempting to avoid being grounded. Which means that no matter what happens now, I am getting that damn dragon out of my yard one way or another.

  I head towards the black dots, my wings carrying my through the cool night air without much effort. They're stronger than I would have thought, and flying feels amazing. If I didn't have a job to do I would spend some time enjoying the night, exploring the open sky. It's chilly up here so high, and I probably should have changed out of my denim short shorts before heading up here, but it's too late to change now. At least the witches will get to see what good fashion sense looks like before I blast them into the next century with a spell from the grimoire. Well, if I can't reason with them first.