And it didn’t matter to her whether he was human, elf, or baboon. The consequesces were the same.
She glanced at the kitchen, a wall of counters with a miniature refrigerator, a two-burner cooktop, and a single sink piled with dirty dishes. Not that she needed anything more elaborate. Had to stay at her racing weight, after all.
She yanked open the refrigerator door, wondering if by some miracle she had a beer hidden in there, and glared at the contents. Some wilted salad, a take-out container from Wong Lee’s—steamed rice and broccoli—that she couldn’t remember ordering. No beer.
Probably a good thing. It would mean an extra hour in the gym, sweating off the calories that came with the cold golden goodness that came in that can. Even a light beer—yuck!—would cost her.
She slammed the refrigerator door, the thought of a beer reminding her of the conversation in The Finish Line. Her parts worked just fine, she just chose not to use some of them. It was a personal decision. Someday she might change her mind, but for now, some things were just more important than sex.
Oh, Sunshine would insist Bubbles was in love with Al, which was so totally not true. Sunshine just read too many romance novels. For her, sex and love were the same thing.
And Rainbow would tell her everybody had to hang it up sometime, that nobody raced forever, and there were other things she could do. But she didn’t see Rainbow making any moves in that direction.
What did they know?
She growled, wishing they were here so she could tell them how wrong they were. She was so not ready to quit racing. She loved the excitement of the race, the feeling that she got when she rode a winner. She even enjoyed the feeling of being in Alphonse’s arms, and the tinglies that came from kissing him.
But kissing would lead to more, and more would lead to even more, and before she knew it, she could be out of racing, and thinking about a second career.
No. Better she didn’t even start down that road.
She paced back through the living room, slammed her fist against a lumpy cushion that sat in the recliner, and stomped into the bathroom.
She needed another cold shower.
In the changing room, the jockeys were in the usual state of prerace jitters. Rainbow was standing in front of her locker, fingering her assortment of lucky charms, including the four-leaf clover she had found on a recent picnic.
Rainbow hadn’t said much about it, but Bubbles knew it involved a man, and the clover had become a talisman for Rainbow. Judging by the sly smile on her face, there was a girl who was getting ready to hang up her silks.
Not Bubbles.
Bubbles’s talisman, if you could call it that, was a battered jockey’s cap she had picked up after Angel Heart had thrown Tatiana. Every time she looked at it, she was reminded of Tatiana, who had tried to have it all.
And look where that got her. She slammed the door on the cap, resolve stiffening her spine.
“Take it easy.”
Bubbles looked up to find Sunshine looking at her pityingly, her big blue eyes round and solemn.
“What is your problem?” Bubbles growled.
Sunshine just shook her head. Rainbow turned, her face an angry red. “Could you both just keep it down? Some of us have to work today! Just because your boyfriend gives you the best runners, Bubby, doesn’t give you the right to screw with the rest of us.”
Bubbles sighed with disgust. “He is not my boyfriend. And I get the rides I deserve.”
Rainbow waved a hand in dismissal. “Whatever. Just get over your attitude before you get out on the track.”
Bubbles turned her back on Rainbow, and caught Sunshine’s wide eyes. She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, in Rainbow’s direction. “I think we know who’s horny today,” she muttered.
“Take that back!”
Rainbow was on her in a flash, all elbows and bony fingers, digging into Bubbles’ unpadded ribs.
Bubbles went down, with Rainbow astride her, pinning her to the cold concrete floor of the changing room.
“Take it back!”
Bubbles bit her lip and refused to speak. Rainbow was constantly on her ass about Al. It was about time she had a dose of her own medicine.
“I swear, Bubbles, I don’t have to take this—”
Rainbow was jerked backward, her words cut off, her face shocked.
Behind her, Bubbles could see Sunshine, tears streaming down her face. “Stop it!” she screamed. “Both of you, just stop it! I can’t stand it when you fight.”
Bubbles climbed slowly to her feet, brushing off her silks. Though the floor was clean, the gesture gave her a minute to collect herself.
She gave Rainbow a hard look, then turned her attention to Sunny. She had stopped crying, but her nose was red and swollen, and her eyes were puffy.
Bubbles felt instantly contrite for upsetting Sunny, even if Rainbow was acting like a jerk. “Sorry, Sunny. But you have to admit, she was being a bitch.”
Rainbow was back on her feet, the color high in her cheeks and her breathing fast. She took a step toward Bubbles, lifting her fists in front of her, then shook her head and backed away.
“Aw, hell!” she said, slapping her locker shut. The clang of metal-on-metal echoed off the bare walls of the room. “You may be right.” She turned around to face Bubbles. “But it takes one to know one.”
Rainbow stamped away, the sound of her boots clicking against the concrete fading as she disappeared through the door to the paddock.
Sunshine stared after her, her face troubled. “Oh, Bubby,” she wailed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that way.”
Bubbles sat down on the hard bench in front of her locker. “Neither have I, Sunny. Ever.”
Bubbles winced as a thought struck her. “I don’t act like that, do I? I mean, you guys are on me all the time, and I was just dishing it back. But I’m not like that.”
“Well.” Sunshine dropped down onto the bench beside Bubbles and slipped her arm around her friend’s narrow shoulders. “You do get a little crabby now and then. Especially when you’ve been around Al. Not that it’s all that bad,” she added hastily, as Bubbles tensed. “Not really that bad at all. Just sometimes . . .”
Her voice trailed off, and she drew back. “No, not that bad.” She stood quickly, her voice suddenly brisk and unemotional. “I better go make sure Rainbow’s okay.”
The last race of the day was a big one, and Bubbles was up on Fairy Dust again. The two of them seemed to understand each other, and riding him was usually a pure joy.
But today wasn’t one of those days. As they broke from the gate, he surged into the lead, refusing her attempts to slow him down, to set the pace for their run.
Again and again Fairy Dust fought her control. He would not hold back, wouldn’t let the other runners tire themselves out. Instead he forced himself faster and faster with each length.
Bubbles could feel him beginning to tire. His stride wasn’t as sure, and when another unicorn pulled up on the inside, he hesitated before trying to cut him off.
Bubbles felt a surge of disappointment, then anger, as Foo Foo Fifi went by on her left, Sunshine hunched over his neck, urging him on.
She raised her whip, a tactic she almost never used on Fairy Dust, pushed herself forward, flattening her body against the big animal’s neck.
“Run, you son-of-a-bitch!” she shouted, tapping him lightly on the flank with her whip. She didn’t need to hit him, never had needed the whip, and she wasn’t about to start now.
But she wasn’t about to lose, either.
She felt Fairy Dust falter again, then he regained his footing, and his stride steadied.
Then began to pull ahead of the pack, leaving the rest of the racers behind. All except Sunshine and Fifi.
They rounded the last turn, the two racers so close the announcer had fallen momentarily silent. There was no way to say who was in the lead.
The finish line was straight ahead, and neither unicorn was giving an inch.
In the last five lengths, with the rest of the field bearing down on them, Fifi stumbled. He brushed against Fairy Dust, and for one sickening moment, Bubbles thought they were going down.
Instead, Sunshine pulled up on her mount, taking him closer to the rail, and out of the path of Bubbles and Fairy Dust.
It was over in an instant. Fairy Dust flashed across finish line, with Fifi a length behind.
Relief flowed through Bubbles. She had won, despite her ride’s erratic behavior.
This was what it was all about.
Bubbles let the reins lie slack against the unicorn’s neck. She stood easily in the stirrups, leaning forward to pat her racing partner. They were a good team, even if he was acting peculiar today.
Then Fairy Dust reared, his front feet pawing the air. He snorted once and twisted beneath her.
Bubble’s stomach dropped with a sickening wrench, as her feet left the stirrups, and she went flying through the air.
She landed on her back, on the hard-packed dirt of the track, her breath knocked from her lungs, and one leg twisted beneath her.
For one long, agonizing moment, she was afraid to move. Broken bones were a fact of the racing life, and she’d had her share. Still they weren’t her idea of a good time.
She stirred, but before she could sit up, the medics were at her side, forcing her back down. They poked and prodded for long minutes, before they would let her move.
She struggled into a sitting position on the hard ground. Waiting behind the medics were her crew: Sunshine, tears welling in her eyes—that girl cried for anything! —and Rainbow.
And beside them was Al. Dear, sweet Al, who had put her up on a mount that damn near killed her.
“What the hell is his problem?” she stormed at Al.
His eyes widened, and he took a small step back, but then he seemed to sort of mentally shake himself and moved up close to her.
“His problem? Nothing much. Except that filly that was in the barn earlier today. Got him all riled up.”
Al ran his eyes over her. Her silks were dusty and twisted around from the medic’s inspection. Her helmet was askew, hanging over one ear and uncovering a serious case of helmet hair. Her face was covered with a light coat of dust, and there was a bruise already developing on one pale cheek.
“And I know exactly how he feels.”
Al held out his hand, and she let him pull her to her feet.
Nothing like a little brush with mortality to make a girl reevaluate her life.
Al’s arms went around her, and she lifted up on tiptoe. He kissed her, and all those perfectly working parts began to hum. The tinglies she had felt before intensified.
What the hell. Maybe it was time. And afterward she could have two beers, if she wanted.
There were always other jobs.
Al watched from the rail as Bubbles prepared for the between-races entertainment.
She may have decided to hang up her silks, but at least she was still working at the track. And she was still hot.
In the infield Bubbles adjusted the harness and settled herself in the saddle. She waved at Al, a little shiver of pleasure passing through her as she thought about last night.
So this wasn’t exactly unicorn racing, but it was still a respectable job.
She smiled at Al. Rainbow and Sunshine stood with him at the rail, grinning.
She braced herself, as the cow’s muscles bunched beneath her. The cat raised his fiddle, and Bubbles took a deep breath. She hated the takeoff.
“To the moon!” she whispered.
DRAGONSLAYER:
Being the True and Terrible Tale of a Fearsome Meeting Between a Man and a Monster
Jana Paniccia
Jana Paniccia was born in Windsor, Ontario, and lived in Ottawa, Vancouver, Australia, and Japan before moving to Toronto where she now works for an advisory services firm. In addition to writing, Jana has a keen—some would say insane—interest in other areas of publishing. She is currently co-editing the DAW anthology Under Cover of Darkness, with Julie E. Czerneda, and has also done freelance work geared toward the business side of the industry. Jana’s short fiction can be found in the anthologies Children of Magic, Women of War, and Summoned to Destiny.
HAMSTER DUGGIN FLICKED A hand outward toward the slice of darkness cutting through the overarching cliff face. “It was ’ere I did it—the dragon’s lair!” Even as he spoke, he sized up his adventuresome marks with a cynically measuring eye.
Lord and Lady Orshire, heads of an opal mining family from central Turmalin, hadn’t even bothered with the sturdy clothes mentioned on the supply list. Bodes well for the take if they find it easy to discard their silks at the end of the day. He would have snorted in derision if he hadn’t had their full attention.
Their countryman Lord Kettlebank wasn’t nearly as well to do. Why the frail retired councillor kept returning to see the dragon—this was his third, no his fourth, visit—Hamster couldn’t guess. But the old man had brought four of his nephews along, so if he wanted to go over the same ground again and again, Hamster wasn’t about to persuade him otherwise.
Besides, with all his visits he’s donated more to the cause than any of his glitzy neighbors.
Next to the Turmalines waited a pair of foolhardy brothers from Aishail, the prosperous city-state at the mouth of the Blue River. They’ll be the ones to keep an eye on. On the trek up the mountain from Pebble Pass, the two had managed to climb a wobbly mound of boulders before Hamster had noticed. Most likely to get killed, sure enough. One already had a tear in his trousers from trying to jump off the uneven rocks.
A strange scent reminiscent of mint shrouded his last patrons. They were the perfect image of a royal-born Lerei couple, wearing matching blue-green cloaks of a wispy material he was surprised could hold dye. Lord Hanshian and Lady Madashiri.
A youngster no more than five summers old peered out from behind the pale-skinned man. “But, Papa, I thought all dragons live in—”
“What did I say about interrupting?” the man asked, a hint of annoyance in his words.
“But, Papa, you said cousin M—”
Hamster rubbed his temples. And their son Gushi. My head aches already.
Having to deal with their child for an entire day only worsened his stomach; the Lereians’ visit already had him on the edge of vomiting from nervous anticipation. They were the first from the far north to seek out his adventure. The first of many, he hoped.
With that desire in mind, he smiled at the tousle-headed boy, then waved everyone up. “Now, iffen ya will follow, I’ll take ya in. Watch yer step—from here on each step could well be yer last. A dragon’s lair ain’t no place of safety. Even with ’em dead.”
As the twelve travelers clumped uphill behind, Hamster’s imagination leaped ahead. Soon we’ll have people from all over the continent coming. If it keeps going at this rate, we can double the charge by next Autumnday.
Masking his face in seriousness, Hamster led the way with exaggerated slowness, stepping carefully through the jagged cave mouth sure to remind them of the open maw of a large predator. Limestone pillars rose from the ground. Other shards reached down from the ceiling, shining with dimples of green and gold. He moved inward with overstated caution, feeling out the walnuts he had scattered beforehand and cracking them sharply with his boot heels. It was too shadowed for the marks to see what he was doing, and he anted up the tension by offering a quick, “Mind your footing, m’lords, m’ladies. The bones of a hunnert great fools once lie here, and I seem ta have missed a few.”
“Akkkk!” Lady Orshire gasped, clambering onto one of the scattered knee-high rocks. “Where?”
Always one allergic to nuts. Hamster shook his head. “You’ll see them soon enough in the cavern below, m’lady, iffen ya ain’t too fainthearted.”
“If these men didn’t make it—how did you manage it?” one of the Aishails asked.
And the gods smile. Right on cue.
“Well, youn
g sir, you see, two of me mates came up ’ere to build the road ya came in on,” Hamster began, offering the tale with the delicacy of spun glass. “It mightn’t seem like much to ya now, but back in the day thar was little keeping this wilderness ’n check.”
That much of his tale at least was true. All of the hills surrounding the cliffs in which he had found his fortune had once been covered in impenetrable forest. The new road was a beaten trail with brick put down only for dire necessity—to cover waterways and ravines. Perfect for the show. Anything more and the path would be civilized. Wouldn’t want that.
“One sum’r day, hot as blazes,” Hamster continued, “a beast came screamin’ from the sky—a seethin’ fury o’ fangs an’ claws that tore int’ our site. Now, we’d ’eard the rumors—seen the ruins. Burned-out cottages like the one ya seen outside of Pebble Pass. Coal black and dead of all livin’. A’fore we could run, it killed half our men—sent flames up from our stores. Most ran to’rd the caves screamin’ in terror. Holed up in ’em. Not me an’ me mates.
“This creature, he was big. Bigger than any o’ yer homes, I be bet’n. Fifty, a hunnert feet high—with leathery wings that’d tear the feathers off birds in its wake by its sheer weight.”
“And you didn’t run? Surely you would have run?” It was the lady from Lerei. She moved toward him, a loud crack sounding as her steps met a random walnut.
Before she could look down, Hamster dashed forward, took her arm, and led her a half dozen feet farther into the cave, certain the others would follow. He didn’t stop, even as he answered, “I think we was too afraid t’ run, madam. When fear’s got ya by the throat, ya do the thing least expected. I led me mates against the dragon—came into this here cave and met its fiery breath with me own obstinacy.”
As they passed beyond reach of even the dullest light from the cave mouth, he ducked behind the first of a set of large, misshapen stone columns and came back with an unlit torch. Giving it to one of the Aishails, Hamster retrieved a flint and steel from his belt pouch. At the first shower of sparks, Lady Orshire gasped.
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