by Eve Paludan
Now, I am at a crossroads.
After fifty years of avoiding battle with each other, the baby dragon is now grown and understandably angry at me for killing his parents and other forebearers, let alone the business with the purloined treasure and the mysterious Cup. Thorn, the last of his kind, to my knowledge, challenges my patience and goodwill by his nightly hunting flights over the countryside—his theft of my white stags and golden bears for his food is a bold provocation to slaughter him for thievery.
I know it is time to rid the earth of Thorn—much as I would love to think of a way to use him longer to control the people of the villages, and my castle. But those days of threatening small children with, “The dragon, Thorn, will eat you in your sleep if you misbehave,” are now in the past. It was long past time to kill him.
Tonight is the night that would leave one of us standing, hopefully, me. I would be frightened if I had to fight him all alone—well, just myself and Wiglaf, my right-hand man, my most stalwart and loyal thane.
However, I had an ally in the greed of the downtrodden, which was fueled by the abject hunger and growing poverty of my serfs. Rather cast down from a local pestilence that wiped out every child under the age of two summers, I wanted to turn around the sorrow of my people. So, I had tapped my finest kegs to the masses for all they can drink, but only for one day and night. And now, having whipped the impoverished locals into a drunken, murderous dragon-slaying frenzy, the village streets and country roads alike were filled with low-born wastrels waiting for nightfall to help kill the last dragon on earth: Thorn.
His very name pricks me.
As I stand in my north tower window in the afternoon light, I watched the serfs make ready for tonight with their fire arrows, their torches, even their vats of Greek fire and tar traps. They fortified their nets, lathed sharper edges on their pathetically inadequate wooden swords, and gave rise to their tipsy shouts of bravado. They were fine-tuning their catapults and forging iron balls. They were even turning their plowshares into crude, edged pendulum weapons that swung back and forth on the massive trees that lined the main road. Fat lot of good that would do, though. Did they not know that dragons did not use roads at night? And they sharpened their garden spades in the hope of penetrating the dragon’s coppery neck scales. The utter fools. I told them to ready spears and arrows and catapults, for the dragon would be in the sky.
But even with their crude weapons, they would provide diversion enough for Wiglaf and my royal self to take down Thorn.
Their peasant voices echoed through the countryside and taunted the dragon by name, to come forth by repeatedly insulting his dead mother, which he cannot ignore. For I had promised something of great need to the men or men who knocked him out of the sky and brought me his head on a pike. The promise of food for a year from the king’s kitchens was enough to move them all to want to kill Thorn as much as I did. He was the last bastion that stood in my way to expand this cesspool of a stinking kingdom into grandeur by expanding my territory through Thorn’s prime meat-grazing territory, and far beyond.
When the trumpets sounded in the hallway, I was drawn out of my reverie. There was a pounding on the door of my war chamber where I was hurriedly sorting through my swords and armor to find the cleanest of them for Wiglaf to use tonight. As always, I and I alone would wield the enchanted sword that could not be defeated.
Wiglaf was announced and I shouted, “Enter!”
Wiglaf’s flushed face came forth with his pox-riddled, fetid crew of armored men, scurrying and scuttling behind him like clumsy land crabs. Their unclean armor carried the bloodstains of many battles, battles that it took to get me where I am: This throne.
“What is your news, Wiglaf?!” I bellowed to my most loyal thane. He enjoyed it when I bellowed in front of others. I did not do it to him in private because he is my friend. My only friend.
“Your Majesty? The dragon comes down the back mud-filled road on his two legs, walking in his man form with his ancestral sword on his thigh, but by night, he will be in the sky in his flaming, clawed dragon form! He steps out with purpose and there is clearly murder in his eyes. We must make haste if we are to survive tonight.”
“Survive?” I bellowed again. “Our goal is greater than mere survival. We must bring the devil’s dragon to his knees and make him call us gods before we slay him without mercy!”
Wiglaf’s squires cheered raucously and rattled their swords against their armor in agreement.
I so loved their blind faith in my enthusiasm that my heart swelled with a king’s magnificent pride. I could say for them to eat dog filth and they would, so loyal were these men. I had not been born to this kingdom, but somehow, had managed to wrest it from a dying king and take his throne without getting myself killed thus far, especially with the help of these hearty overly trusting allies.
However, I needed to enjoy this glory now, while I could, because I was sure that one day, another usurper would do the very same to me—take my throne as I lay dying. After all, I am not immortal. And again, I wished I were a dragon-man like Thorn. Oh, to fly and to live forever, verily, that would be something.
“He’s going to be hard to kill,” said Wiglaf.
“Mayhap we can just kill him on the road while he walks like a man?” I suggested and laughed to see what they thought of the idea.
Wiglaf shook his head vehemently. “Sire, with all due respect, we cannot! We need the dragon’s quill on top of his head to take into battle with us, forevermore. Whoever has that primary quill will be the champions of any battle. If we kill him as a man, we shall rid ourselves of a longstanding species of pest, but would have nothing to show for it but human bones. We need his magical dragon’s power source, his crest quill, so we must kill him at night.”
I knew that he was right. I raised my big, jeweled magic sword and said, “By the power of the gods that put me on this throne, at nightfall, let us have a go at Thorn in his most terrifying dragon form. We will slay him and tear him limb from limb and feast on his magical, powerful flesh. Raw! I will cut off his quill myself and mount it to a sword hilt that I will carry into every battle, henceforth. I will gouge out his eyes. I will make his left eye into colored window glass for my tower latrine and his right eye into a street lamp for the village square! And I will use the fat of his tail to make the oil to serve that lamp!”
Suddenly, a nearly deafening boom of thunder cracked from the sky. And with that crack, the sky closed up and I felt the ground heave under my feet. Something had happened in the kingdom. Something that had never happened before. Something bad.
The sun was covered up in the daytime. Completely covered.
Screams of terror erupted all over the kingdom because an unexpected curtain of night had suddenly fallen, and time seemed to stand still. My shouts joined theirs and the din was so loud that I could not hear my own voice, but only the collective shrieking cries of my people.
“The dragon has stolen the sun! The dragon has stolen the sun!”
That hue and cry spread from the castle to the surrounding squires’ fine homes to the clay-and-mud huts of the poor and to the rolling hills of the countryside. They were the most frightening six words I had ever heard and soon, I was saying them myself. No, I was shouting them—though I could not hear myself doing it above all the other din.
I felt something warm spread over my loins and had a sudden panic that it was my own blood spewing from my groin artery. But when I looked down in horror, I realized that I had just pissed myself.
Chapter 11
ANTHONY MOON
“What did you think of the eclipse today, Mom?” I asked.
“It was weird, for a vampire, you know, to be in the daylight, and suddenly, it’s night for a few minutes, and then day again. If I didn’t have my alchemy ring that lets me go out in sun, that eclipse might have messed with my mind a lot more.”
“Yeah, imagine what people must have thought about eclipses in the olden times. I think they would have
been scared.”
“Probably,” Mom agreed.
I gazed off into the distance as I often did and realized my mom had changed the subject. I stopped slouching and sat up to listen better.
“Huh?” I said.
Mom looked at me while we were now sitting at a red light, and I realized I hadn’t heard what she had been saying for at least a minute. “I said, I’m so proud of you for doing this, Anthony.”
“Doing what?” I asked, not knowing what she was talking about, as per usual, because my mind had drifted a lot when I was thinking about the eclipse.
“I was talking about coaching kickboxing for little kids.”
“Oh,” I said, a bit downcast.
Mom gave me one of her sympathetic looks. “I know it’s been hard for you to be forbidden from competing in sports yourself, but it wouldn’t be fair—you have supernatural strength and speed—so maybe this will let you still participate in the sports you love in some unexplored ways.”
I sighed. “Coaching kickboxing for kids in elementary school is not the same as me competing in a boxing match. And you know I’d rather be fighting competitively than just about anything else. Even alchemy.”
“Jacky thought you might like coaching. He loves it.”
“I know it’s his passion, but I don’t know if it’s mine.” I paused. “And he only coaches because of what happened in the ring all those years ago.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mom said, as the light changed and someone behind us honked. “He’s just old.”
She moved the minivan through the green light.
“Mom, he didn’t get too old to box. He retired a long time before that because he accidentally killed someone in the ring. In Ireland. Back in the day.”
“You’re sure about that?” Mom asked.
“Yeah. He told me that he didn’t want to compete again, but he didn’t know anything but boxing since he grew up in the sport. So, after his opponent died in the ring, he moved to the U.S. and he opened Jacky’s Boxing Gym, and the rest is history.”
Mom said, “He never told me all that.”
“He probably wouldn’t have unless it came up.”
“And it came up with you?”
“Yeah. After you briefly turned me to a vampire to save me from that disease when I was little, and even when I got turned back from what Archibald Maximus did with the ruby medallion, I was thrilled that I was left with supernatural powers. I loved fighting more than ever, but Jacky got scared when he saw how strong I was. And how fast. He got scared that I would accidentally kill someone in the ring with my powerful, fast punches. So, he told me what happened to him, so I would understand what it was like to be responsible for someone’s death. And understand why sometimes, you have to quit doing what you love the best to protect others.”
“He told you all the details?” Mom asked.
“Yeah, first, he told me about the championship fight that he won by a knockout, and how his coach raised his arms and the crowd was cheering as he held up the belt buckle over his head. He was on top of the world until someone announced that his opponent wasn’t just knocked out. He was dead. And that was Jacky the Bull’s last fight, ever.”
“Jacky the Bull? I didn’t know they called him that,” Mom said.
“Everyone in boxing had at least one nickname, back in the day. The guy who died was actually a good friend of his, so it was hard to get up the professionalism to even fight him in the ring for the title. So, he was so broken inside that he killed his good friend. Mom, I cried when he told me what happened that night.” I paused. “Jacky cried, too, when he was telling me about it.”
“That must have been hard to hear from the guy who has become almost like a second father to you.”
I nodded and took a moment. “When Dad died—and all of that bad stuff leading up to his murder happened—my world was so sad. But Jacky was there for me, treating me like a dad would, so my heart wouldn’t hurt so much.” I paused. “Then, when he asked me to come to the boxing gym and coach little kids in kickboxing… well, in my mind, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for Jacky. But in my heart, I’m hurting that I can’t compete anymore, because of my superhuman strength.” I sighed. “But I do want to give something back to Jacky. It’s only right. Helping people, like Jacky does. I just hate it that I’m not competing. It’s like being sidelined but learning to accept it and even cheer for the ones who can compete.”
Mom gave me one of her ‘I’m proud of you’ looks. “You’re growing up so much.”
“I’m trying. I know how important it is to keep sports safe for kids. And teach them good sportsmanship, too.”
“Sportsmanship starts with you,” Mom said.
“That’s what Jacky says, too.”
“He’s a wise man.”
“Yeah, he is. But people don’t even know it because he is so tough on the outside and… how would you describe Jacky?” I asked.
“A cactus on the outside, and a teddy bear on the inside.”
“Right. He’s this tough guy who’s really kind, too. He listens like a dad would. And he cares, really cares.” I tore my gaze away from a hooker working a street corner in a purple miniskirt and black sports bra and looked at my mom. “I hope I’ll be good at coaching kickboxing. I want the kids to fall in love with the sport, the way I did with boxing.”
“I’m sure they will.”
“I dunno. Tonight, the kids are all gonna be from a group foster home. The unadoptable kids, Jacky says.”
“That’s terrible.”
“I think so, too. Jacky said they are kids who got taken away from drug addicts, or their parents are in prison or they died. Sometimes, all three things.”
Mom shook her head. “The world can be so horrible at times, but I just hate that it’s that horrible for so many children.”
“You don’t have to tell me I have it easy, Mom. I want to make these little kids feel special and have self-worth, stuff like that, like you do for Tammy and me.”
“Thanks for saying that,” Mom said, now kind of choked up.
“Jacky gave me a whole month of coaching lessons, so I hope I don’t blow it.”
“Just by showing up and doing this, you’ve crossed a big hurdle.”
“I feel that, too. That I’m changing and stuff. Not just getting taller and stronger, but other stuff, too. Jacky calls it a maturing. That sounds boring, so I secretly think of it as becoming a ninja superhero.”
Mom laughed. “Being a flying vampire, I think I can identify somewhat with how you think of yourself.”
“Thanks for understanding,” I said. “That means a lot to me.”
We stopped at another red light, this one without other cars. Mom smiled at me with her perfect white teeth. “I don’t have a little boy anymore. I see a young man sitting next to me. A young man I am so proud of.”
I felt myself blushing as I sometimes did when Mom poured on her special brand of gooey compliments.
As we were sitting at the light and she was smiling her goofy Mom smile at me, suddenly, a couple of gangbangers ran up to the car. One of them pointed a gun at her driver’s side window and shouted, “Get out! Now!”
“Mom, we’re being carjacked!” I yelled.
“Stay in the car. I’ll handle this.”
“No!” I said.
“It’s okay. I got this.” She threw the minivan’s gearshift into ‘park’ before she unlocked and opened her door. Fast.
As soon as she did, I could see that the gun pointed at us was a toy.
“Mom, the gun isn’t r—”
“I see that,” she said as she grabbed the wrist of the guy pointing it and snapped it. He howled with an unholy sound as his wrist hung lifeless at the end of his arm. And then, he dropped to the ground, gasping and puking. I almost felt sorry for him, but I didn’t because I was scared for Mom.
The other thug brought up a knife, but when he went to hurt my mom, that was all it took for me to lea
p out of the minivan in a blur and punch that knife right out of his hand.
As long as no one pulled a real gun, we would be okay. I had no idea if I had the healing properties in my body that my vampire mom did. And I had no wish to find out. Not like this.
And then, more of them came and, back to back and circling, Mom and I were fighting a real street gang. I could see that our boxing training, combined with our supernatural vampire strength, was gonna leave these assholes bleeding and whimpering for mercy.
Obviously, we were winning, punch for punch, because a bunch of them were laying on the asphalt intersection, bleeding and moaning. Or unconscious.
As one of the guys who had hung back now went after my mom with a baseball bat, I pretty much saw red, then saw the little man in the flame in my mind, and turned into the Fire Warrior. When I grew much taller and flames started shooting out of my arms, that was all it took for those assholes to scream bloody murder, crawl away to the curb, and drag each other down an alley. I looked around and tried to say, “Clear!” but my voice kinda came out as a crackling flame.
“We’re good, Anthony,” Mom said, and I could see she was anxious that someone might witness me in my fiery form.
I imagined the little man in the flame in my mind back to normal. It took a little while to change back to my Anthony body, and when I did, I asked Mom if she was okay.
“I’m fine.”
I could see her mouth was bleeding, but it quickly stopped, and her vampire healing powers began to take over, right before my eyes.
“You okay, Anthony?”
I nodded. “They never even touched me. I’m that fast.” I paused. “Should we call 9-1-1 or something?”
“No, there’d be too much explaining to do, and you don’t want to be late for your first day on your first job.”
“Right.”
We got back into the still-running minivan and went to Jacky’s Gym. Mom went to the ladies’ room to wash the blood out of her shirt—most of it was other people’s blood—and I told Jacky what had just happened to us. His face went white, and I realized he was scared of losing us, and that he loved us. Me and Mom.