by Finley Aaron
“But when she told Eudora she’d changed her mind, Eudora flew into a rage. They fought—your mother fought to escape, but she was alone and Eudora had all her yagi to help her. Eudora chained her in her dungeon. She would have used her serum on her, but your mother stayed in dragon form, and she couldn’t inject it, not past her scales. It wasn’t for lack of trying, though.
“Fortunately, I’d been keeping a close eye on Eudora ever since her announcement. I feared what she might do, and rightly so. When I learned what was happening, I traveled there personally to help your mother escape.
“She was in very rough shape—her wings torn, her body bruised. Eudora had been merciless. We managed to escape, but your mother was not strong enough to travel far. I kept your mother safe for as long as I could. We fell in love. She laid your egg. You were her every hope, her every dream for the future. She made me promise that I’d keep you safe—that even if she had to die,” pain cuts off my father’s words. He takes a shaky breath and concludes, “You’d be safe. She’d live on through you and your children.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I’m dumbfounded by my father’s story. Not that there are too many surprises—Ram effectively told me the gist of it. But hearing it from my father, who lived it and loved her, something settles in the pit of my stomach—the determination to see her dreams fulfilled, to carry on her legacy, and all that.
My father brings in meat and we eat while he finishes his explanation. “Eudora still wants to use the serum. She still wants to defeat the last of the dragons, to purge the earth of us.”
“That’s why Ion was trying to capture me, instead of just killing me?”
“Precisely.”
“Why didn’t Ion insert the serum into me? He’s had plenty of opportunities.”
Ram clears his throat. “Eggs?”
My father looks thoughtful. “Faye told me everything she could recall about Eudora’s plans, about her philosophies. Eudora claimed she wanted to destroy all dragons, but she also tried very hard to convert Faye. It was almost as though she wanted a follower, more than she wanted to destroy her.”
“And look at Ion,” I point out between bites of meat. “She could try out her serum on him, if she really wanted to, but she hasn’t.”
“She always said the best weapon against a dragon is another dragon.” Ram reminds us.
“You know that old saying, ‘if you can’t beat them, join them?’ One of the girls at Saint Evangeline’s used to turn that around. She’d say, ‘if they won’t join you, beat them.’ Think maybe that’s Eudora’s philosophy, too? She wants us to be on her side, but failing that, she wants us dead?”
My father raises both eyebrows. “I think you’ve got it. But what’s her plan?”
“And how do we stop her?” Ram adds.
I don’t have an answer for that, and I’ve finished my meat. Ram helps me to my childhood bedroom—which, I realize now, is in the center of the house, not only the most secure location in the house, but arguably the most secure in the whole town. My father took seriously his promise to my mother, to keep me safe, didn’t he?
I barely make it to the bed before I fall into an exhausted sleep.
*
I awaken to wedding preparations in progress. Whatever Eudora’s up to, no one seems willing to let her potential plans get in the way of my future happiness, or my matrimony. I bathe and wash my hair properly for the first time in a week, and step into the gold and white lace gown that appeared in my room while I slept.
The face in the mirror is me but not me. I look older, or bonier, or something. Not skinny. Just more mature. My cheeks less round, more womanly. If that’s a thing. And most notably, my eyes have turned a jewel-toned amethyst color that fits me better than the ruddy brown before.
Mahira, a woman who helped take care of me when I was young, who was elderly then and who has visibly aged since I’ve been gone, arrives to braid my hair, weaving ribbons and jewels into the plaits. And then my father appears. He looks distinguished in a traditional embroidered suit.
“Is it time?” I ask.
“Not yet. I only came to see you because I couldn’t wait. I’ve missed you.” He gives me a hug. “They’re still setting up chairs in the village square. Ram’s tribe has been invited, and they’re trying to squeeze everyone in. It’s a very large crowd.”
“Any sign of Eudora?”
I expect my father to pat my hand and assure me that all will be fine, but instead he looks concerned. “Some villagers traveling from Ram’s tribe have reported seeing yagi in the mountains. No one has been attacked or hurt, that we know of, but it would seem she’s on the move.”
“What are we going to do?” I smooth down my dress, which is lovely, but I feel so exposed without my swords. “I need a weapon. Should I wear my daggers under my dress?”
My father might have laughed off the suggestion, but he doesn’t. “Good idea. The ceremonial swords will be on the table with the rest of the symbolic weapons, in front of the wedding bower. Ram will be wearing his swords. If it’s any help, I think Eudora would rather capture you than kill you. I don’t know if she’ll try to use the serum on you, except as a last resort.”
“You mentioned she couldn’t use it on mother when she was a dragon, because of her scales?”
“Yes. She used a needle-syringe. It won’t penetrate our scales. We’re armored, except for our eyes and inside our mouths. Keep your mouth shut and your eyes guarded, and you’ll be fine.”
“What about the villagers? Is it wise to let the crowd gather when there could be danger?”
“Our villagers are all drilled in evacuation plans. There are many exits to the caves accessible from the village square. We’re passing this information along to our guests. But I don’t think we need to worry about the people, except to get them out of the way of flames and swords and yagi. Eudora has never shown any inclination to hurt people. It’s only the dragons she’s concerned with.”
My father meets my eyes solemnly. For not the first time since I’ve been back, I notice his are a bright scarlet-orange, vividly jewel-toned, which is not how I remember them. “Your eyes used to be a reddish-brown,” I murmur, not intending to change the subject or even speak out loud.
“I covered them up with contacts when you were little—anything to keep us hidden. But there’s no point covering them now. You know where I am. So does Eudora. I don’t know where we’re going to hide you if she arrives while you’re still here.”
“What? Still here? Where am I going?”
“Back with Ram to his side of the mountain. It’s only a short flight from here, but he’s got a more secure fortress. I tried to hide in plain sight, you know, nothing too fortified—I didn’t want to attract suspicion. He took a slightly different approach. If Eudora knows you’re around, you’ll be safer there than here. But where to hide you if she shows up before then, I don’t know. I’d send you into the caves with the others, but what if she follows you?”
“I won’t endanger the people.”
“There’s the tower, I suppose,” my father continues thoughtfully.
“Why should I hide?”
“To keep you safe.”
“Why can’t I fight her?”
“No, no—”
“I’ve fought Ion and the yagi. I can defend myself.”
“Ilsa, please. Be sensible. You are the last hope of the dragon world. We can’t endanger you in any way.” He knits his face into an expression of resolve. “The tower, then. It’s the only secure place where you can be sure you won’t endanger innocent civilians. If Eudora attacks before you and Ram leave town, flee to the tower. Promise me?”
What is it with my dad and promises? I am not a coward who turns my back and runs. But he doesn’t know me, or doesn’t know the eighteen-year-old me. Only the eight-year-old me. I haven’t had a chance to show him I can defend myself.
And now is not the time. So I nod, the same nod I’ve seen Ion and Ram use, the de
ferential, almost-a-bow nod. “I may have to defend myself on the way to the tower,” I warn him.
“Yes, of course.” He’s smiling now. He wants me to be safe, and I’ve agreed to his plan, and now he’s happy. We step through the house toward the front windows, and he looks outside to see how the wedding preparations are coming along.
I look, too, but my thoughts are not on the hundreds, even thousands of chairs being set in rows in the square. I am thinking of how I might defend myself from Eudora without breaking my promise to my father.
It’s a tricky question to answer, because I don’t just want to chase her away. If I’m going to be laying eggs or bearing dragon babies, or whatever, I don’t want to have to worry about her swooping in now and then to try to kill them or carry them off. I don’t want to live in fear anymore, or fight this battle any longer than I have to.
The simple solution would be to kill her. Isn’t that how enemies have defeated one another for long centuries? And she’s the one who thinks all dragons should die, so it would be a fitting end, never mind that dragons are all but immortal.
But it sticks in my throat that if I kill her, I’ll only be proving she was right—that dragons are killers. That we don’t know compassion or mercy. That we don’t belong in this modern world, but are relics of a brutal past.
You know I almost sided with her when I first found out about dragons. I feared I was a monster, and I didn’t want to be a monster. I still don’t want to be a monster, or a killer. I didn’t want to be a dragon, either, until I realized I’m in love with a dragon.
So I’m torn. I want to get rid of Eudora so she won’t be a threat to me or my family or my people any longer. But I also don’t want to kill her, because that would make me no better than she is, on some level. I want to be a dragon of love, not a dragon of death.
But I don’t know how to do that.
*
“Ready?” My father holds out his hand to me.
I’m not. I’m not ready at all. I still haven’t figured out how to defeat Eudora without becoming a killer like she is. I’m not even sure if I’m ready to marry Ram. Come to think of it, we haven’t even kissed yet, or anything, which is a grave oversight on my part and probably only due to our having been dragons or scarfing down meat, or half-dead asleep for most of the time since I realized I love him.
Although in retrospect, if I’d thought of it, I could have tried kissing him while I was eating, or something. That might have been right fine.
And I’m not sure I’m ready to bear dragon babies, even if egg-laying isn’t as bad as giving birth. Arika, my friend from childhood, has three kids. She can handle it. She was always better with Tulip than I was. I’m not ready for this.
But I place my hand on my father’s elbow, anyway, and give him a smile that’s totally bluffing because nine-tenths of me is terrified and about to run away. And my father places his other hand over mine and smiles at me like he’s proud of me, although honestly, what have I done today besides my hair? And technically I didn’t even do that, Mahira did.
Still, when I think of Ram and that fact that we’ll shortly be married, and then I can make up for not having kissed him yet, I’m ready. More than ready.
So between the parts of me that want to run away and the parts that want to sprint down the aisle between the chairs in the village square, I manage to walk at a reasonable, solemn pace. Ram is standing at the front, under the wedding bower, near the table with the symbols of our union, including a sword, a bow and arrows, and a round shield.
He’s watching me walk toward him, and his eyes, which usually sparkle like jewels, are lit up with eagerness. For all his skills communicating without words, right now he’s sending me a message, as clear as if he was shouting from the rooftops. That he loves me. Me, just me, Ilsa. The butcher. The dragon. I don’t have to hide who I am or pretend to be something I’m not.
My father and I reach Ram, who’s standing in front of the table of symbols, below the wedding bower, which is covered with fragrant flowers of all colors, but mostly purple with highlights of blue, and just a few twinkles of orange and yellow for contrast. My father places my hand in Ram’s hand, and he gives my fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
We state words that bind us together, vows that bind us together, and sign the paper on the table in the midst of the symbols, the one that confirms we are husband and wife. For that moment, I’m happy, so crazy happy I could burst, and the whole world seems to fade away, and the huge crowd of people seems to fall into sacred silence, like they’re holding their breaths, and I remember the thing we haven’t done yet, the thing I’ve been waiting for, which will surely happen any moment.
I look at Ram eagerly, ready to kiss him for the very first time.
Then the screams erupt, and I turn to see that everyone is pouring out the sides of the aisles, evacuating quickly, even as the yagi overpower their screams with their inhuman wailing. The yagi leap from the surrounding rooftops, and two fire-breathing dragons swoop down from overhead.
“To the tower!” My father reminds me, leaning close as though he’s afraid Eudora and Ion will hear from the sky. He clamps a hand on Ram’s shoulder. “Take her!” My father shouts to Ram even as he transforms into a scarlet-orange dragon and bounds into the air.
The yagi rush toward us, toppling the bower.
Ram pulls out the swords on his back and swings his blades at the head of the swarm. There’s no way we’re going to get to the tower, or even out of the square, without killing some yagi first.
I’ve got my daggers under my dress, but those are for close-range fighting, and I don’t want to have to get that close to the yagi and their spearing antennae. Weapons are spread out on the table like a feast of defenses, and I throw a bow and quiver of arrows over my shoulder. I haven’t shot a bow since archery season ended last spring, but they’re light and who knows what I’ll need before I reach the tower.
There’s only one sword, but it’s a big one, and I grab it with my left hand, glancing up to see my father fighting Eudora in the air, while Ion dives toward us, breathing out fire.
I grab the shield and hold it over me to block the flames. As Ion swoops past and the fragrant flowers melt and burn from the heat of his flames, I shout to Ram, “He’s going to burn down the village if we don’t stop him!”
“I’ll fight him.” Ram shouts back. “Get to safety!” He beheads two more yagi before leaping into the air, morphing into a dragon as he soars through the sky after Ion.
Ram did a good job of clearing out many of the yagi on this end of the square, and the people evacuated quickly. I run back down the aisle, toward the main street Ram and I just walked up that morning, when we were greeted by townspeople tossing flower petals.
I’m almost to the street when I hear a tiny scream, and I turn to see a little girl peeking out from under one of the many chairs that crowd the square.
She can’t be more than two years old, if that. Though her dress is fancier than the one she wore this morning, I recognize her, just as I recognize the doll she’s carrying.
Tulip.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The yagi have seen the toddler, too.
While technically I don’t think yagi are supposed to bother humans, these particular yagi don’t look like they’re familiar with that rule, and no way am I taking any chances. I leap at them, bounding over chairs and performing a one-armed butterfly maneuver while I bar their way to the little girl with my shield. It takes me a little longer than usual to decapitate them all with just one hand.
“Jala!” Anika screams, running back into the square. I can only assume she evacuated with her babies, thinking her daughter was at her heels, only to realize once she got to safety that Jala wasn’t with her at all.
“Mommy!”
Two more yagi are drawn to their cries. Jala looks at her mother with longing, but appears to be rooted in place—probably by the paralyzing screams of the yagi.
I’m
moving swiftly, ignoring their screams, propelled by my own momentum.
I pick up Jala with my arm that’s holding the shield (no, this is not a graceful move, and she’s probably going to slip out of my grasp if I have to go very far, but I don’t have much choice at this point) and I decapitate the two approaching yagi as I deliver the child to her mother.
“Thank you, Ilsa!” Anika cries as she embraces her child.
“Hurry! Get her to safety,” I tell her, aware the paralyzing wails of the yagi might lock her in place if she stays still too long. Anika runs with her daughter while I decapitate another yagi and look up to see how Ram and my father are faring in the sky.
The village is not on fire, at least.
That’s the good news.
Ram and my dad are trying to push back the dragons, but Ion and Eudora seem determined to fight their way past them.
Mindful of my promise to my father, I run down the street toward the tower. Along the way, yagi come at me from all directions, darting around buildings, leaping off rooftops, doing their best to slow me down and bar my way. It’s exhausting, fighting them, but at the same time, I keep thinking of what my father said, that they’re more a distraction than a worthy foe, in spite of their screams and venom and claws and horns. Granted, if I lower my guard at the wrong moment, they could very well fell me, but I can’t help thinking they’re not the real enemy.
There’s something more going on, isn’t there?
I check the sky again, but this time I can only see my father and Ion. Where’s Ram? Where’s Eudora? Somewhere out of sight, beyond the trees or the mountains?