Monster Girl Islands 7

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Monster Girl Islands 7 Page 16

by Logan Jacobs


  “We don’t know that for a fact!” another butterfly woman with a bright-red bob cut and yellow wings argued. “We don’t know if those are their dragons or not.”

  “Zerandrie…” Ahwara finally clapped her fan-blade closed and turned back to her people. “All of the pieces are fitting together.”

  “Not to speak out of turn,” I interjected, “but what are you talking about? What pieces are fitting together?”

  Ahwara turned back to me and stared deep into my eyes with her glimmering orange eyes. Then, for the first time, she smiled.

  “I apologize to you, strangers.” She bowed, and her wings opened around her. “We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. My name is Ahwara, and I am currently the leader of the Morpho people.”

  “My name is Ben Whitfield.” I offered out my hand, but that only seemed to confuse her, so I retracted it and gestured to my party. “This is my crew. Mira, Sela, Jemma, Jonas, Nadir, Lezan, Tirian, and Malkey. And then this is my son, Arrick.”

  Ahwara’s mouth stretched into a smile when she saw Arrick step forward, and she crouched down on one knee and gave a little bow to the prince.

  “Nice to meet you, Arrick.” She smiled warmly. “We haven’t seen a child on this island since Elzara was young, and that was hundreds of sun cycles ago.”

  Arrick pursed his lips and nodded his head, though I could tell he wasn’t sure what sort of greeting he needed to do.

  “We hail from the island of the dragonkin, far off to the south of this place,” I continued. “Like my friends here were saying before, I’ve made it my life’s goal to go around to the different islands in this ocean and protect anyone I find from the orcs.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ben Whitfield.” Ahwara nodded before she turned to the rest of her peers. “Ladies, please introduce yourselves to our visitors.”

  The spunky purple-haired woman stepped forward first.

  “I’m Holara.” She bowed, and her long hair practically hung down into the mud as her silver wings fluttered.

  Next came the woman with her blue hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had a thin, taut face with gorgeous brown eyes, and her wings were only a few shades darker violet than the sapphire locks on her head.

  “My name is Elzara,” she announced, and she smiled nervously as she walked up to me. “I’m the youngest of the group, even though I’ve lived for several hundred sun cycles.”

  “Zerandrie.” A frail, thin woman stepped forward next. Her hair was cut into a long bob and was as red as a fresh-picked rose. The wings on her back were yellow, and small daggers of black pigment ran down them vertically like drips of paint.

  Finally came the only woman who hadn’t spoken yet. She had dark, ruby-colored eyes atop the bridge of her thin nose, and her beautiful emerald wings were dotted with black polka dots. Her golden hair was tied in intricate braids all around her head, and she fiddled with one as she introduced herself.

  “Candara,” she giggled. “Or, at least, that’s what they call me.”

  “Because that’s your name!” Elzara protested with a chuckle.

  Candara looked at her friend, tilted her head, and then let out a fit of giggles.

  “Oh, yeah,” the golden-haired woman mused, “I guess that’s why.”

  “We are the Morpho people,” Ahwara announced and drew my attention again. “And I must apologize for the way we were acting. It is a tense time for our people right now… It is now the time of great fertility, the time when the men of our race return to these islands to impregnate the women. But our men have not returned for this cycle, and now I fear that we know why.”

  “The orcs.” I nodded somberly.

  “It certainly sounds that way,” the orange-haired woman agreed. “Especially if the dragons are sleeping.”

  “Excuse me?” Jemma rubbed her forehead with confusion. “I’m a little lost here. What do the dragons have to do with your men?”

  Ahwara looked at the Niralope woman as if she had three eyes.

  “The dragons are the sacred beasts of the Morpho men,” she explained. “They are bonded to each other, body and soul. So, when a Morpho man falls in battle, his dragon goes into hibernation.”

  “How many of them did you see when you were there?” Holara questioned, and she brushed a strand of her violet hair out of her pale eyes.

  “I couldn’t get a headcount,” I admitted. “There were a bunch of orcs there when we arrived, and we never really got to explore deep into the mountain.”

  Tell them about my mom! Tirian’s voice interjected.

  “I do know one of the sleeping dragons was his mother.” I pointed to the small silver dragon. “Do you know of any pregnant dragons that might have looked like him?”

  The Morpho women wracked their brains for a moment, and then realization set in.

  “Lindrello had a silver dragon.” Ahwara frowned. “It looked a lot like your little one, but it was a male.”

  “His mother was gold, if that makes any difference,” I noted.

  Ahwara’s face fell at those words.

  “It--It was our mates,” she sighed. “They had a golden female and a silver male dragon, which I’m guessing are the parents of that little one. If they are both asleep in the mountain, then that means our mates have been killed.”

  The Morpho women hung their heads in sorrow, and they said nothing for a few short minutes as the downpour slowly turned to a trickle and then vanished completely.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, my dears,” Jonas consoled the women. “I’m sure they were all great men.”

  However, all of the Morpho women just gave the soothsayer a cross look.

  “Oh, we aren’t sad about them,” Candara snickered, and her ruby eyes twinkled with amusement. “We barely even knew those guys.”

  “It’s true,” Ahwara agreed. “We don’t mourn these men. What we mourn is our potential children, all of whom will now never exist in the first place.”

  “You don’t care that all of the men of your island were slaughtered by orcs?” I asked, since I was very confused at their reaction.

  “We only saw them once every other rotation of the sun,” Holara noted with a shrug that made her purple hair shift across her shoulder. “And we never really got to know them. They would just come during the time of great fertility, do their business, and leave until the next time.”

  “Sounds like some of my exes,” I muttered to myself with a laugh.

  Honestly, this sounded like a win-win situation for me. Here were all these beautiful, glowing women who wanted one thing and one thing only: children. That was something I would gladly give them, though I wasn’t sure if now was the best time to breach the subject.

  “Hold on…” Elzara pondered aloud, and she tugged on her blue ponytail. “If you knew these dragons were sleeping, then why do you wish to go to the island? I thought once a dragon’s bondmate died, they were asleep until they died?”

  “We were going to bond with them!” Nadir interjected as she picked up her stone axe and wiped the dirt away.

  The Morpho women let Nadir’s words sink in, almost as if to make sure they were hearing it correctly. Then they all burst out laughing.

  “I think I may be having some hearing issues,” Holara laughed as she stared at Nadir, “because I could have sworn I just heard you say you were going to bond with the dragons.”

  “That’s exactly what she said,” I reaffirmed. “We’re going to awaken the sleeping dragons, bond with them, and then use them to wipe out the orcs once and for all.”

  The Morpho women continued to laugh, but then their humor quickly faded when they realized we were serious.

  “That’s impossible, my friend,” Ahwara mused as she stared at me curiously, though her tone suggested she wasn’t quite sure if she believed that.

  “On the contrary!” Jonas stepped forward and puffed his chest out proudly. “It is very possible. I have been studying the rebonding ceremony for weeks now, and I believe I am read
y to take on the task.”

  “Rebonding ceremony?” Zerandrie gasped, and her black-spotted, yellow wings fluttered erratically behind her. “Ahwara, you never told us there was such a thing as a rebonding ceremony.”

  “That’s because no such thing exists!” the woman with the pixie cut argued.

  “The rebonding ceremony is very real.” Jonas shrugged. “It was rare, but sometimes the elders used to do it to the water dragons back in our village when their bondmates fell in battle.”

  “A water dragon isn’t the same as a real dragon,” Ahwara continued to disagree.

  Ouch, Malkey pouted and hung his head.

  Tirian saw the hurt in his friend’s eyes and quickly floated up into the air with a look of pure anger on his face.

  You want me to rough them up for you, buddy? he asked his copper friend. I’d bet my wings against theirs any day of the week.

  Calm down, Tirian, Jemma ordered her dragon telepathically. Ben and Jonas can handle this.

  The Morpho women had noticed Tirian’s sudden change in demeanor and were all tensed up at the thought of being attacked by a fire-breathing dragon. However, the little silver creature simply plopped down onto his rear, smiled brightly, and wagged his tail as Jemma scratched him under the chin.

  The tension faded instantly but was then quickly replaced by the issue at hand.

  “A dragon is a dragon,” Jonas noted. “The ancient texts say this ceremony will work on any ‘serpent of the elements.’ The last time I checked, fire was one of the elements.”

  Ahwara crossed her arms over her tiny chest, let out a long sigh, and then proceeded to nod as she pondered Jonas’ words.

  “Okay, fine,” she conceded. “But I’m telling you right now the ceremony won’t work if you try it on your people.”

  “Why not?” I questioned before I pointed at my auburn-haired lover. “Jemma was able to bond with Tirian, and now the two of them are inseparable.”

  “That may be the case,” the orange-haired butterfly woman continued, “but let me ask you this… When did she bond with the dragon?”

  “Right after he hatched,” Jemma spoke up.

  “Exactly.” Ahwara shook her head. “You bonded with your dragon when he was a newborn, fresh out of the egg. Full-grown dragons are not as easy to tame, and the fact you are trying to bond them with spirits they aren’t familiar with? That’s a recipe for disaster, if you ask me.”

  “How so?” Jonas asked, and now he seemed half annoyed, half worried.

  “The dragons in that mountain were bonded with Morpho men,” she began as she paced back and forth in the mud. “As you probably already know, when a dragon bonds with another being, their souls become intertwined. That’s why they can speak to each other without uttering a word. You claim your elders used to do this ceremony on your dragons, and it always worked, correct?”

  “It did,” Jonas confirmed.

  “I’m assuming that is because they always performed this ceremony on your people,” Ahwara continued. “The water dragons were familiar with the spirits of your people, and that made the transition easier for them. I’m not sure what species each of you are, but I can tell you’re not Morphos. If you try to bond with those dragons in the volcano, they will reject your spirits.”

  “What happens then?” Sela asked with bated breath. “Do the dragons stay in hibernation forever?”

  “Much worse.” The butterfly woman’s orange eyes swept back and forth across our crew. “It is very difficult to wake a hibernating dragon, but it is possible. If an unbonded dragon is awakened, it will go on the warpath, destroying everything it sees. The men used to tell us a story about a foolish man they met while traveling, a man who thought he could tame a sleeping dragon… Do you know where his island is right now? It’s gone. Burned to ashes by the dragon he tried to tame.”

  “Well… shit.” I whistled.

  Honestly, I wasn’t sure if Ahwara’s story held any weight, or if it was just a legend the Morpho people told each other as a cautionary tale. Either way, I’d witnessed the destruction a full-grown dragon could cause, first hand. Entire ships were burned in a matter of minutes… Orcs were literally incinerated into ashes where they stood… It wasn’t pretty.

  And, if these dragons did awaken and go on the warpath, our home base was only a few dozen miles away from the Isle of the Dragons. If any of what Ahwara said was true, waking them abruptly would be a death sentence for all of my friends and family.

  “You just want the dragons for yourselves!” Arrick interjected as she stepped forward and glared at Ahwara.

  “Arrick!” I semi-scolded my son. “Don’t be rude.”

  “Sorry, Dad…” the lanky boy trailed off and dropped his head.

  Even though I wasn’t going to say it out loud, I agreed with my son. These butterfly women may have looked frail and timid, but they had just held a weapon to my face not thirty minutes ago.

  “So, what do you suggest, then?” I raised an eyebrow to Ahwara.

  “If you are going to bond anyone to these sleeping dragons, it should be us.” The pink-winged woman smirked. “We have the same souls as our fallen males, which means it’s the only way you can reawaken them without causing complete chaos.”

  “And what in Oshun’s blue eyes do we get out of this deal?” Mira demanded. “We do all the grunt work, and you get to walk away with fire breathing dragons?”

  “As much as I hate to say I don’t trust you guys,” I added, “we just met. For all I know, you could sic the dragons on us the second they’re bonded with you.”

  All of the Morpho women gasped and looked horrified at the thought.

  “The Morpho are a peaceful people!” their leader scoffed. “We would never engage in such… such…”

  “Stickyspitting!” Elzara spat out, and her blue ponytail whipped back and forth as she shook her head vigorously.

  “That’s the word!” Ahwara agreed. “We’d never engage in such stickyspitting.”

  “So, then what do we get out of this?” I repeated Mira’s quandary.

  “You get us and the dragons,” the orange-haired woman replied. “As allies. There are a lot of things we can help each other out with…”

  I sensed the beautiful woman’s orange eyes look me up and down, and my pants tightened as I thought of the prospect of mating with these Morpho women.

  “Name your terms, then,” Mira’s voice cut through my happy thoughts. “Tell us what you need from us, and we’ll tell you what we need from you.”

  Without missing a beat, Ahwara answered. “We want our queen back.”

  “Your queen?” I questioned with a furrowed brow. “I thought you were the leader?”

  Ahwara’s orange eyes nearly bugged out of her skull as she took a step back, and then she shook her head furiously.

  “Nonononono,” she corrected me. “I’m just a placeholder until Queen Dalwen wakes up from her own hibernation.”

  “Huh,” I mused. “You seem like pretty good leader material to me.”

  Ahwara blushed at my words, and her wings folded up behind her in a rigid line. The orange-haired butterfly woman quickly recomposed herself, though, and continued on with the explanation.

  “The queen is normally the first one out of her cocoon during the time of great fertility,” the pink-winged pixie explained. “The Morpho men make it a point to find her and mate with her first. But if the men are all dead…”

  “We are starting to worry our queen will be stuck in her cocoon for too long,” Zerandrie interjected, and her messy red hair fell into her eyes. “That could completely mess up her body permanently, or worse…”

  “Okay,” I admitted, “that sounds easy enough. Why haven’t you guys gone and checked on her yet?”

  The Morpho women looked around at each other tensely.

  “You’re definitely new around this island,” Holara finally chuckled. “The path to the castle is lined with danger and peril, the likes of which fill our nightmares. That�
��s why it is always the men who open the cocoon. They’re the ones who can handle all of those dangers.”

  “Well, then, it sounds pretty straightforward,” I announced as I threw out my arms. “We will help you free your queen and then bond you with your former mates’ dragons. And, in return, you’ll become our sworn allies, ready to fight whenever we call upon you. Does that sound about right?’

  “That sounds perfect.” Ahwara smiled.

  “Great.” I nodded. “Then it sounds like we have ourselves a deal.”

  I wasn’t sure what I had just gotten myself into, but I knew one thing.

  It was going to be a crazy, potentially dangerous new adventure.

  Chapter Nine

  Are these ladies sure they don’t just want me to fly them to the castle? Tirian asked Jemma and I as we made our way through the dense forest. It would take a lot less time, and we also wouldn’t have to go through all these itchy bushes.

  I appreciate the thought, Tirian, Jemma noted with a telepathic sigh, but you know you can only carry one person at a time. We have to stick together as one, especially since we don’t know this island like the Morpho women do.

  “Exactly,” I reaffirmed. “Who knows what kind of creatures could be lurking out here in the jungle? The last thing we want to do is split up our crew and make ourselves easy targets for some gangly beast that’s looking to eat us for dinner.”

  I guess you’re right… the silver dragon grumbled. I’m just not enjoying walking around on my feet. I’ve got two wings, why can’t I use them?

  Stop complaining, Malkey interjected via our dragonbond, at least you have wings. If I want to go anywhere, I have to walk around on these big flippers I call legs.

  “It’s not that bad, guys,” I chuckled and shook my head. “They said the queen’s palace was only about a day’s trip away.”

  Speaking of which… Why are they so far out from their castle? Mira chimed into the conversation. I think it’s odd they don’t stay around their queen like we dragonkin do. Shouldn’t they be protecting her?

  “I dunno,” I admitted, “but I’m more than happy to ask. Ahwara? What were you all doing out here, so far away from your queen?”

 

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