'Til Dragons Do Us Part (Never Deal with Dragons)

by Lorenda Christensen

  “Really. I’ll be happy to take care of him for you.”

  I glanced once more at the busy photographer, and decided that it wasn’t worth bringing Amanda’s wrath down upon me for interrupting Myrna’s event with a dragon attack, fictitious or no. “Nah. I think I’m good. But I appreciate the offer.”

  “Anytime you want me to incite total chaos, just say the word.”

  I smiled. “Will do.”

  “Miss Cavenaugh?” We both turned to find Relobu’s butler standing a few feet away, his white-gloved hands clasped loosely at his waist. “There’s a telephone call for you, from a Simon Marra. Would you like to take it?”

  Relief hit me so hard I was surprised to find myself still standing. If nothing else, Simon was alive. The fact that he was using Marra instead of his real name told me that our cover was still intact. “Yes. I absolutely would.” With a quick goodbye to Cameron, I followed the butler into the house.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Oh my God, Simon! What is going on? I’ve been looking for you since yesterday.” My hands gripped the hard plastic of the phone so tightly I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had cracked.

  “Vanni. Hey.” His voice was rough and gravelly, like he’d either just crawled out of bed, or he’d been awake for hours. Based on the long sigh that followed, my guess was the latter. “Things moved so fast I didn’t even think to turn on my sat phone. When I finally did, I saw that you’d tried to call.”

  “Simon. Talk to me. Are you okay? I’ve been worried sick! What things?”

  “I’m fine.” But the way his voice choked up with tears as he spoke told me he really wasn’t fine. “Oh, Savannah. It’s Emma. She hadn’t been feeling well for several days.”

  “I noticed. I was there the night before last when she threw a fit over a glass of water.”

  “Exactly. She’s been tired all the time, cranky, and no matter how much Jeanie had her nap, she just wasn’t feeling any better. She just wasn’t the same kid.”

  “But you took her to the pediatrician yesterday. What did she say?”

  “Yeah, well, we should have paid a little more attention to her change in behavior. They looked Emma over, ran a few tests, and then she was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes.”

  “What? But she’s just a kid. And her diet is just fine. Lord knows Jeanie barely lets her eat anything with sugar.”

  “The doctor says that’s one of the few things we’ve managed to do right. But even with the best diet, Emma’s body just isn’t creating enough insulin. Without the insulin, she can’t process what she eats, and her body will start to shut down.” Simon paused for a moment to murmur a response to someone in the room with him.

  I waited until he was back before asking, “Is she going to be okay?” My head was spinning. Emma had seemed perfectly fine only a few days ago. Sure, she’d thrown a few fits, but that’s what kids did, right? I just couldn’t process the fact that sweet little Emma was sick. Not just with a cold, but with a very serious-sounding disease.

  “The nurse says we caught it before she had any permanent damage to her organs, but until they can get her insulin levels back in the proper range, her body is being put through the wringer. She was admitted to the hospital and we’ve been with her since. They have everything leveled out right now, and we’re meeting with the doctor later today to discuss the options we have from this point forward.”

  “Do you need me there?” It would take a bit of explaining, but I’d fly over in a heartbeat if Simon and Jeanie asked.

  “No, I appreciate the offer, but we need you at Relobu’s. Great job on the switch by the way—you’ll have to tell me how well the pressure clamps worked for you so I can brag about it somewhere Prometheus will hear about it. Still, I’m not comfortable leaving the Tofegaard in the house for another day, now that it’s off the wall, but I’m just not going to make the meet up. I know we’d decided that sooner was better, but—”

  “Simon, don’t worry about me. The job can wait. We’ll talk about it when Emma feels better.” I looked around the office I’d been placed in, and prayed that the phone conversations weren’t recorded. Simon was worse than exhausted if he’d forgotten to keep our job-related discussions in code. First he’d forgotten to call me back on the sat phone, and now he’d flat-out mentioned the Tofegaard.

  And from the sound of his next words, he’d realized it.

  “Oh, Vanni. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m just—” He stopped talking, and I could hear the static on the line as he rubbed the phone on something. Most likely his head. Simon had a habit of scrubbing at his forehead when he was thinking.

  I struggled to reassure him, knowing that it wouldn’t help for me to pile the stress of the job on top of his worries about Emma.

  “Simon, it’s fine. Really. You take care of your family, and I’ll go decorate for a wedding. Give my love to Jeanie, and tell Emma that I have the coolest dinosaur trick ever to show her once she’s back home.” I’d been practicing what I’d learned from Trian so I could make shadow puppets for my niece and still fit in her bedroom.

  “I’ll do that. Savannah, you take care of yourself. And if you need something, call me. I’ll leave the sat phone on. I mean it. You’re family too, you know.”

  A hard lump of tears lodged in my throat, and it was a second before I could respond. “I know. Stay safe, and kiss your baby for me.”

  I placed the phone back into its cradle and swiped at my eyes. It was all I could do not to run to the nearest roof and head straight for the hospital. But I’d promised Simon I’d take care of the job until he was back, and that’s exactly what I planned to do. If the only help I could provide was to shoulder a portion of his load, I was all for it. I knew it bothered Simon to leave his background work—he’d been tinkering with some devices that would make retrieving the painting without ending up on camera a bit easier—but it wasn’t as if they were crucial to the project. All I had to do was hold down the fort. How hard could it be?

  Now I just had to pull myself together enough to rejoin the reception.

  It wasn’t until I stepped outside that I realized how long I’d been on the phone. Amanda was going to be pissed. Oh, I’m sure I’d be able to handle it, and she wouldn’t dare take it out on me in public, but she definitely wouldn’t be happy that I’d disappeared for a solid twenty minutes. The faster I got out there, the better.

  While I’d been inside, the entire wedding party had arrived. Even the two dragons. And it appeared that Amanda had gone so far as to ask the instrumentalists who would be providing music during the event to come fully dressed for the occasion.

  The band had been lucky; Amanda hadn’t insisted on them dragging their instruments down for the rehearsal. The poor pianist however looked as if she’d eaten something that hadn’t agreed with her. Probably because my boss was standing practically on her shoulder as the poor woman obediently plunked out a close approximation of the tunes Myrna had chosen for the processional while Amanda yelled things like “MOH... Go!” into her ear the entire time.

  Completely intent on making sure everyone knew their parts, my boss watched Trian like a hawk as he and his groomsmen lined up under the enormous arbor—the arbor I was not looking forward to stuffing full of flowers next week—and then checked her watch and made a notation on the clipboard in her hands. She’d mentioned something about measuring the lighting at the rehearsal so we’d be able to make sure the ceremony would look perfect on television, and it looked like she’d recruited April to help her.

  I’d known Trian and Myrna’s wedding was considered big news, but I hadn’t realized it was big enough to garner the interest of the television producers. With broadcasts still only running a couple of hours a day after the war, even a wedding as high-profile as this one would have had a hard time landing a spot. But somehow, they’d managed it.

  I guess the decision made an odd sort of sense; as dragons were on average the wealthier race, they likely made u
p a larger portion of the visual media demographic. With the high price of circuit-dependent tech, television programming was still in the very early stages of its post-war comeback. The great majority of humans were still dependent upon newspapers for their entertainment. But a wedding between a human and dragon morph would definitely qualify as a story of interest to the dragon race as well.

  I sidled up next to Myrna, who stood at the back of the amphitheater and laughed as Carol performed in some imaginary dance competition as she made her way up to stand near the officiant’s podium. I glanced at Amanda to judge her reaction. She was smiling, but she definitely wasn’t happy.

  I had a feeling all the fun had been squeezed from her system by years of being strapped into a skin-tight business suit. Sara was next, and while she didn’t dance down the aisle, she certainly hammed it up with beauty queen waves and the occasional kiss blown to her imaginary audience.

  Myrna leaned toward me and whispered. “This is my favorite part.”

  Once the humans had found their places at the front, Amanda gave another jab to the piano player. The music changed, and I followed Myrna’s gaze to the sky. Doeho and Isiwyth were perched on opposite rooftops of Relobu’s mansion, one dragon on each far corner of the L-shaped structure. As we watched, the two dragons tipped their heads to each other and, like a couple of trapeze artists, straightened their bodies and fell in tandem toward the ground.

  They waited until they were only feet from hitting the paved garden path before snapping out their wings and rising to tangle in a leisurely mid-air dance, directly above the chairs that would hold the wedding guests. While they weren’t wearing the actual crimson cloth they’d been fitted for at Bridal Visions, they’d both donned similar apparel, and I realized that Glenda had outdone herself. As the dragons twisted and twirled for their performance, the fabric curled against their bodies like constantly moving paint, and even I—who took to the skies myself on a regular basis—found myself as impressed with their act as the rest of the wedding party.

  When Sara laughed and gave the dragons enthusiastic applause, I was tempted to join in, especially when they managed to thump to the ground directly on top of the small tape markers Amanda had provided to denote each wedding party member’s spot up front.

  Myrna leaned her head toward me. “The dragons didn’t understand the point of just standing up for me at the wedding, so I asked them for an opinion on what they thought was appropriate. The sky-acrobatics were completely their idea. I have a feeling they’re going to be invited to a lot of weddings after this.”

  “I’ll bet they will. Dragon shows will be a new must have for the season.”

  She laughed, and the music changed again. Myrna pushed away from the wall she’d been leaning on, her eyes locked with Trian’s. “I think that’s my cue. Crazy how real it feels even in rehearsal.”

  * * *

  I managed to keep Amanda out of my hair by going through the motions of cleanup and endless note-taking. But the rest of the night was kind of a blur for me as images of Emma in a hospital bed kept trying to install themselves on top of endless servings of hamburger patties. At Trian’s request, we’d placed an order with the catering company for ten times as much food as Amanda thought we needed.

  Grumbling about the waste when there were only ten guests at the dinner, Amanda had nevertheless done as he’d asked. He’d been right, of course, since two of those guests were adult dragons. I said a silent thanks to Trian’s forethought as I handed the last platter to the shell-shocked human waiter.

  Bypassing the human table, he cautiously approached the perches where Isiwyth and Doeho had installed themselves. Doeho, in an attempt to maintain his friendly projection, gave the waiter a smile as he thanked him. Unfortunately, the waiter wasn’t a dragonspeaker, and I’m sure the display of sharp teeth was the thing that caused him to visibly pale.

  Doeho’s attention had already been lost, however, and he and his wife attacked the fresh stacks of hamburger with relish. Everyone else was either unaware or too polite to notice as the poor boy almost ran back to the safety of the kitchen in his haste to get away from the massive beasts.

  Isiwyth might have said she preferred fresh meat for her meals, but based on the sheer amount of hamburger she and her husband had consumed in the last hour, the dragons weren’t totally against the idea of taking the night off from hunting and allowing their dinner to come to them. Then again, if I had children as energetic as her adorable twin dragonlings, I’d probably be gulping down the calories, no matter in what form they came.

  Ohm and Jura, the dragonlings in question, had joined their parents for dinner after the rehearsal was finished. The two young males were entertaining themselves on the banks of Relobu’s well-stocked pond, each dragon swooping down from greater and greater heights as they attempted to snag catfish from beneath the water’s surface. Every once in a while their attempts were successful, and their screeches and growls provided a cheerful backdrop to the conversation between the adults, who had spent the twenty minutes following the rehearsal enjoying the beautiful weather while chatting over dessert.

  Other than the vendors operating with an above-average case of nerves, the event had gone off without a hitch. After the rehearsal, Amanda had slapped her clipboard into my hands with a terse order to “take care of this.” With April and Glenda’s help, I’d managed to translate a good ninety percent of her scrawls into a makeshift to-do list that I’d be starting on bright and early in the morning.

  The good news was, the lists were getting smaller and smaller the closer to the wedding we got. Most of the stuff was pretty easy. She wanted the unity candle moved a half foot to the north so the flame would be better protected from any stray wind by the arbor.

  One of the metal stands that held the speakers—Lord Relobu had insisted on installing a full audio system for the ceremony—blocked the view from one of the human guest chairs to the left of the aisle and needed to be adjusted, so I’d added it to the list. Amanda had also noted that an extra rope of greenery would probably be needed to further hide the arch frame that she insisted she would still be able to see.

  How she knew this when the arbor was completely bare of flowers, I had no idea, but the woman was persistent.

  Glenda leaned in to read over my shoulder. “Holy mother of—” She met my eyes and dissolved into a round of horror-filled giggles. “She wouldn’t!”

  There was one thing on her list I had no idea how I would accomplish. At Glenda’s exclamation, April frowned and took the clipboard from my hands, her lips moving as she read Amanda’s instructions. I could tell the instant that she got to the item in question, because her fingers clenched on the paper and her eyes met mine. “No. Savannah, she can’t be serious.”

  “Can’t be serious about what?”

  Cameron, who’d slipped in behind us without our notice, stood with hands in his pockets and read from the proffered clipboard. “She wants you to get a copy of Lord Relobu’s officiant certification? That shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Myrna, who I’d be willing to name as one of the greatest political minds of the decade, had managed to coax Lord Nir Relobu into performing the ceremony. Doing so had effectively put to rest any and all speculation surrounding the North American dragon lord’s supposed disapproval of Trian’s marriage, and all but guaranteed the presence of at least three of the other dragon council members. And Myrna said she’d put money on the remaining three showing up, just to make sure they didn’t miss anything by staying home.

  Based on the rumors I’d heard, Relobu was planning an informal sit-down with the council following the wedding, an attempt to persuade them to make good on their promises of developing global standards of human and dragon interaction.

  As acting head of the world’s largest dragon relations offices in the world, these standards were something Myrna been campaigning about for years, and—as she’d said herself—were the primary reason she was putting up with this entire circus of a wedd
ing. In fact, it had been the promise of meetings such as this that had led to her taking the job that reunited her with Trian.

  Frankly, I was impressed she’d managed to convince the normally introverted Relobu to oversee the ceremony. Pushing the dragon lord into scheduling a meeting afterward was testament either to Myrna’s tenacity, or Relobu’s indulgence in the happiness of his soon to be extended household family. As human-friendly as the dragon lord was relative to the other six, it was still very rare that anyone had the gall to try and tell him what to do.

  Which was why we were completely shocked at Amanda’s request.

  “No. Not that one. The item underneath.”

  Cameron frowned, and I watched him run his eyes over the page once again. “She wants you to get Lord Relobu’s measurements to make sure he fits under the canopy. And then direct him in appropriate human wedding etiquette?”

  I nodded. “Not only that, but she provided me a script to give him. Basically, she wants me to call the dragon lord of North America fat, then tell him that he needs lessons on social behavior. She actually wants me to mention that he needs to refrain from making, and I quote, ‘that horrible grunting noise when he breathes through his snout.’”

  He laughed. “I hope you don’t plan on phrasing it like that.”

  I glared at him. “You’re making the assumption that I plan on talking to the dragon lord at all. Even Amanda wasn’t able to get him to show up for the rehearsal, what makes you think he’s going to make time to talk to a lackey? Amanda may think I’m a good choice for this task simply because I’m a dragonspeaker, but there’s no way I’m calling up Relobu’s assistant and requesting a meeting with the leader of this entire continent.”