“Is it a boy or a girl?” I ask, trying not to cringe. It really is a dreadfully ugly thing.
“Boy.” Sebastian points to the black-tipped scales along the wings.
Suddenly, the baby dragon gasps for breath. He falls to his side as he wheezes and chokes.
“Sebastian!” I screech. “Do something!”
“What do you want me to do?” Cringing, he prods the dragon’s chest.
“He’s dying,” I cry, feeling utterly helpless. “Please.”
Growling because he doesn’t want to touch it, Sebastian scoops the dragon up and begins massaging its chest, trying to coax it to breathe. Then, just when I think we’ve lost him, the tiny baby sits up, gasps in a lungful of air, and then sneezes a cloud of mucus-tinged water droplets directly into Sebastian’s face.
I go still. Sebastian wears the most horrified expression, and for one moment, I think he might be ill. Happily unaware of what he’s done, the now-breathing dragon chatters to himself.
With great control, Sebastian lowers my new pet onto the table and takes a handkerchief from his pocket.
And I can’t help it. I snort out a laugh before I promptly slap a hand over my mouth. My shoulders begin to shake. Though I try to hold the giggles back, there’s no stopping them now. My eyes start watering, and I silently gasp for air as I double over.
Sebastian turns his eyes on me, glaring as he wipes dragon goo off his face…out of his hair…off the collar of his jacket. Just when he appears to have gotten it all, the dragon sneezes again. This time, instead of water, wispy red flames burst from his mouth.
My jaw drops, and I turn to Sebastian, dumbfounded. “That’s not possible. Munchkin dragons don’t have elements.”
The boat rocks, and the dragon stumbles to the side, bobbing along the table like a rock skipping across water. Sebastian holds out a hand, blocking him from falling off the edge. “This one appears to.”
“But why?”
Sebastian meets my eyes, and he gives me a look that says he could have predicted this. “Because it’s clearly not a munchkin.”
***
I’ve named the tiny dragon Flink. Flink is…special. To start with, he’s growing much too quickly. He’s exactly a week and a half old today, and he’s the size of a small munchkin dragon right now.
The second peculiarity is that he not only has an element—he has a shifting one. Sometimes he sneezes out flames, sometimes steam, sometimes noxious green gas. It really depends on the day. With every new element, his scales morph to a different color. He’s been green, red, blue, gold, and a truly hideous color of mauve.
Also, he’s a timid little thing, and every time he gets a fright, he begins to hiccup. Every time he hiccups…well. It’s messy.
“Come along, Flink,” I say as I give the dragon’s tether a gentle tug. I’ve taken to walking him along the deck where he can grow accustomed to people. He doesn’t like it, and the passengers don’t like him, but I believe it’s good for everyone on board to get along.
“This is humiliating, Lucia,” Sebastian says from his regular card table. “It’s that ridiculous lamb all over again.”
“Hush.”
One of the sailors laughs a little too loudly farther down the deck, and Flink let out a tiny squeal and darts between my legs. He wraps the leash around me and then attempts to hide behind a coil of rope. Moments later, he hiccups, this time breathing out sizzling sparks that resemble miniature lightning bolts. As I watch, his gray scales morph to a deep blue.
I bite my lip as I stare at him. “Do you think he’s sick? This doesn’t seem natural.”
“I’ve heard something about certain creatures needing to settle on their elements when they’re first born. He’ll probably grow out of it.” Sebastian scowls. “Hopefully sooner than later.”
“I’ve never heard of it. Ice dragons have baby ice dragons, fire phoenixes have baby fire phoenixes—”
“Humans have baby humans. I do understand the basics of it.” He looks up, his eyes laughing at me. Oddly embarrassed, I look away as he continues, “But we don’t know what kind of dragon he is.”
After several moments, Flink’s hiccups stop. I kneel to examine a small section of rope that’s now a bit singed. From behind me, someone clears their throat.
I glance up and find the captain looking down at me. He’s not handsome like Avery, nor is he young or charming. In fact, the captain of The Sea Star is nothing like Avery at all.
“Young woman, we are in the middle of the ocean. Do you know what that means?”
Scooping Flink into my arms, I stand. “That we haven’t had anything decent to eat in almost a month?”
Behind the captain, Sebastian buries his face in his hands.
The captain narrows his eyes. “It means we have nowhere to go should your dragon burn down the ship.”
I cock my head to the side. “Now really. How’s he going to burn it down when we’re surrounded by water? And half the time he’s sneezing out water as it is. In fact, he might put out a fire should the need arise.”
Apparently, the man has no sense of humor. “No mishaps, do you understand? We have four days to reach Grenalda. Keep your pet in line.”
“Yes, sir, of course.” I give him my most radiant smile, but his expression doesn’t soften.
“Why do you antagonize people?” Sebastian demands as soon as the captain is gone.
I stroke Flink’s back and admire the new shiny color of his scales. I rather like this one. “I was trying to lighten the mood.”
“You lightening the mood is going to get us kicked off the ship.”
“Oh, he’s all talk. There’s no stop between here and Grenalda. What’s he going to do? Dump us in the ocean?”
“Let’s not find out.”
Rolling my eyes, I walk away from Sebastian and head toward the rail. Holding Flink secure, I show him the sea. He sits with his two front feet perched on my arm, and he looks out eagerly at the water.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” I murmur.
He makes happy noises, little purrs and chirps, and I close my eyes and tilt my head toward the sun. Though I like sailing, I am ready to be reunited with land.
Suddenly, Flink jumps in my arms, and he shrieks like a banshee. My eyes fly open in time to see a pod of dolphins swimming next to our ship. They must be what startled Flink. I try to calm him, but it’s too late. He struggles from my arms and runs down the deck, squealing like a baby pig. Then he hiccups.
“Oh no,” I gasp as I race after him.
Please don’t be fire.
But, of course, it is.
Flink hiccups violently, over and over, and tiny flames spring from his mouth each time. Passengers scream, terrified of the “demon” munchkin, and they run this way and that, terrifying the poor dragon to no end. More agile than he looks, Flink jumps into the rigging and begins to climb.
“Flink, no!” I yell as I stare up at him. I didn’t even know he could climb. “Come down!”
It’s when he attempts to hide in the sail that I know we’re in real trouble. I’m climbing up the ropes before I can think better of it, trying to reach Flink before one of the sailors can. The captain’s already yelling for his men to throw the baby dragon overboard when they reach him.
The sail catches fire—but only barely. Just a little fire. More like a flicker, really.
Just before a big, burly, and red-faced man grabs Flink, I reach for the little beast. I pin the dragon between me and the netting, and I attempt to snuff out the flame with my free hand.
Once it’s out, I look down. The passengers gather below, and they gawk at me like I’ve gone mad. The captain’s livid, and the crew’s expressions match their leader’s. Sebastian leans against his table, and he stares up at the sky, looking as if he wishes he could disappear.
“It’s out,” I call to the crowd brightly as my cheeks flame. “No harm done.”
CHAPTER NINE
Such a Cozy Boat
The tiny
dinghy bobs up and down, rolling with the lazy waves. Water surrounds us; there’s no land in sight. The Sea Star is long gone.
Flink lies on my lap, fast asleep. Sebastian sits on the hard, wooden bench directly across from me. He’s bent over halfway, and his elbows rest on his thighs. His hands support his head, shading his face, and since he hasn’t spoken for the last several hours, I don’t know how upset he is.
At least the captain was generous enough to let us gather our things before he booted us off the ship. Sebastian’s trunk sits between us, and I shoved my pack under my seat. The sun set long ago, and it’s cold on the water. I pull a blanket my mother made me years ago from my things and wrap it around myself, needing both its warmth and comfort.
We have no oars, no sails. Just this little boat, out in the middle of the Aelerian Sea. Somehow, I’m sure things will look better in the morning.
Before we were tossed off The Sea Star, the captain said we were about four days from Grenalda. I think the ship went off to the west, but I’m afraid the dinghy has turned a few times since then, and I’ve lost my bearings. Most sailors would be able to read the night sky like a compass, but that wasn’t exactly a skill I needed growing up on a chicken farm.
Maybe Sebastian knows. He’s a wealth of random information, most of it useless. But something he’s picked up might come in handy.
But even if we know the direction we must travel, how will we coax the boat to move?
The night darkens, and the water turns inky. It’s eerie all alone on the sea at night, and it’s cold. There’s no noise but the constant sound of gentle waves lapping against our dinghy’s wooden frame and Flink’s occasional snores.
In the dead of night, exhaustion takes over, and the hopelessness of our situation overwhelms me. I shiver, frozen under my thin blanket, and my eyes begin to sting. Looking away from Sebastian, I rub them, hoping he won’t notice.
“Lucia.”
I don’t look at him.
“Lucia,” he says, again, his voice softer.
It’s his tone that does me in; it’s almost gentle. I blink quickly, but a few rogue tears escape down my cheeks. “Sebastian, I’m sor—”
“Sorry,” he finishes dryly. “Believe me, I know.”
There’s something else on his mind, but he takes his time. I wait, knowing if I cut him off he may never say what he’s thinking. A breeze blows across the ocean, and I shiver again.
“Are you cold?” he asks.
“No.”
Apparently, he doesn’t believe me. He shifts forward and trades places with his trunk. It now rests on his wooden seat. I frown, wondering what he’s doing as he digs through its contents, pulling out several items.
“Give me your blanket,” he says, already holding out his hand for it.
I shrug out of it reluctantly. Sebastian lays it across the bottom of the boat and then bunches an extra jacket at the end. Once he’s satisfied with it, he lies down. He’s so tall, he barely fits.
“You stole my blanket so you could take a nap?”
“You owe me more than that.” He chuckles, which I find absurd considering the mess we’re in. “But no, come here. Set the beast on your bag. If we’re lucky, he’ll let us get some sleep.”
Sebastian motions me to join him on the blanket, but I’m frozen on the bench.
He sighs. “It’s fine, Lucia. We’re stranded in the middle of the sea. We don’t have many options. I’m exhausted, and I know you are too.”
I place Flink on my pack, being careful not to wake him, and eye Sebastian as I lower myself onto the blanket. My knee bumps his leg, and I’m glad for the dark because my face goes hot. Sebastian lies with his arms crossed close to his body, and I join him, trying my best not to touch him any more than I must. Once I’m lying down, he covers us with his cloak—the heavy, expensive one his grandfather gave him when he turned eighteen. He was so proud of it at the time, but I was secretly jealous. Jealous he always had nicer things than I did.
Now I love it. It’s my favorite cloak in the world.
Sebastian looks up at the sky, and he’s rigid beside me. Like him, I lie on my back, arms crossed tightly over my chest, with my legs as far to the side as possible. Already, my fingers tingle as my arms fall asleep.
“Are you comfortable?” he asks after I shift just a little, trying to work circulation back into my limbs.
“Mmmhmmm.”
He tilts his head, so he’s looking at me. “You’re lying, aren’t you? I’m miserable, so you must be too.”
“I’m warmer, and that’s something, right?”
“Sit up a bit,” he instructs.
“Why?”
“Must you question everything I say? Just do it.”
Reluctant, I sit up. Sebastian scoots closer to the middle and stretches his arm over the jacket.
“See there,” I say, my voice a little too quiet. “I did as you asked, and now you’ve taken more room for yourself.”
“Come here.”
There are lines two people who are purely platonic business partners should never cross. This is one of them.
Hesitant, nervous, feeling something I don’t want to examine, I lower myself into his arms. My head rests on his shoulder, and he tucks me close to his side. With nowhere else for it to go, I set my hand on my chest.
“Better?” he asks, sounding just as off-kilter as I feel.
Though the bottom of the boat is hard against my shoulder, Sebastian’s shirt is soft against my cheek. His frame is strong and lean and warm.
My thoughts wander to places they should never go, not where Sebastian is concerned. He’d be horrified if he knew what’s playing through my mind. He’s my friend, like a brother.
His breath is soft against my temple, and I shiver when I catch myself wondering if his lips are firm or yielding. Wondering how exactly he kisses. I bet he takes his time, would guess he’s one of those slow mechanical types. He’d probably drive me mad.
I wouldn’t like it at all.
But I would be lying if I said this is the first time I’ve thought about kissing Sebastian. It’s not. And chances are high it won’t be the last.
“You’re overthinking this, Lucia,” he murmurs. “Go to sleep.”
I clench my eyes shut and eventually find myself drifting to the gentle rhythm of the sea.
***
I jolt awake to find Flink standing on Sebastian’s chest, staring down at me. The sun is up, and judging from its position in the sky, it’s probably about mid-morning. Flink hiccups, but thankfully only steam escapes his mouth. I begin to sit up, realizing something must have startled him. Sebastian, who’s still half-asleep, pulls me back and murmurs nonsense into my ear. I’d probably react differently if Flink weren’t skittering around, acting like a monster is about to eat us.
Suddenly, the boat rocks as if something nudged it.
“Sebastian,” I hiss. “Wake up.”
He groans and shifts, and then he cracks his eyes open. He looks at me, half-awake, and then peers at our surroundings.
“There’s something under the boat.”
At that, Sebastian’s instantly awake. After reaching for his belt, he arches his hips to slide it on without rising. With his daggers in place, he takes his rapier and slowly sits up. I, too, take my dagger, though it won’t be much use if we’re dealing with something bigger than a meadow imp. And I doubt we’re going to see one of them out here.
Flink continues to wheeze out steam, and the cowardly creature hides in my pack, under the bench at my feet.
“Where is it?” I ask as I peer over the edge. All I see is water.
“I don’t know.”
“What is it?”
Sebastian raises his hands, exasperated because he doesn’t know any more than I do.
We stand for several minutes, waiting for something to make itself known.
“Maybe I imagined it,” I say eventually.
Flink’s in his hiding spot, and he doesn’t look like
he’s going to come out anytime soon.
Sebastian doesn’t look convinced, but he shoves his trunk onto our makeshift bed and lowers himself to the bench. “Perhaps.”
Both spooked, we speak very little in the next hour. My mouth is dry, and the salty water taunts me. When the sun is high in the sky, I begin to relax. If there was something out there, it’s gone now.
“We need a plan,” I say, as I stare into the horizon, where the water meets the sky, looking for some sign of land.
Sebastian scowls. “A plan? Let’s see what we have at our disposal. My blade and two daggers, a trunk filled with clothes and a razor I use to shave with, your satchel, your puny dagger, and one very useful baby dragon.”
I cross my arms. “My dagger’s not puny.”
“And now let’s discuss what would be useful,” he goes on. “A set of oars would be nice, a sail would be even better, a canteen of water would be most welcome, a—”
“And breakfast because you’re crabby when you don’t eat.”
“A passing ship is our only hope.”
“What are the chances of that?” I ask, suddenly desolate.
Sebastian stretches his legs in front of him. “It’s not too unlikely. There’s a lot of trade between Kalae and Grenalda.”
Feeling optimistic, I add, “And maybe a current will take us the rest of the way.”
He snorts out a mirthless laugh. “Maybe.”
I stare at the sea. I used to think it was beautiful. Not so much anymore. Time stretches on.
“How’s your grandfather doing?” I ask after we’ve sat in silence for too long.
“Fine. Why do you ask?”
“He had that cough a couple months ago, remember?”
Sebastian nods. “It went away.”
I meet his eyes. “He’s going to hate me even more than he already does when he finds out I got you stranded at sea.”
Sebastian’s mother and father died when he was seven, and Sebastian’s grandfather took him in. The old man is the only family Sebastian has.
“He doesn’t hate you.”
“You know he does. He blamed me every time we’d get into trouble.”
Moss Forest Orchid (Silver and Orchids Book 1) Page 7