Of Cinder and Bone

by Kyoko M

  He quickly switched off the phone’s text messaging screen. “Uh, no.”

  Kamala eyed him. “Faye?”

  He continued watching the shirtless dragon-hunter crawl up an old industrial chimney shaft with an ax clutched in his teeth. “Yep.”

  “Booty call?”

  He squirmed. “Not exactly.”

  Kamala chuckled and patted his knee. “Aw, she really does like you.”

  “Please take that back, for the love of God. How do I make her stop?”

  She paused. “Well, obviously, sleeping with her wouldn’t help.”

  “Ya think?” Jack sputtered, and she just laughed.

  “Calm down. Not your type, huh?”

  “I don’t think we’re even the same species. She’s a shark in a mini-skirt. An alligator in Prada pumps.”

  “True. Good kisser, though.”

  Jack turned his body towards her very slowly and stared. “What.”

  Kamala kept a straight face. “I told you I wasn’t a traditional Southern Indian girl.”

  Jack felt his cheeks…and other areas…filling with blood. His squirming increased. “Ah. I see.”

  “If you turn any redder, you could direct traffic. Have I made you uncomfortable, Jack?”

  “Yes. Probably not for the reasons you think, though.”

  She laughed again, shaking her head and facing the TV. “Men. Academic or otherwise, you’re all the same.”

  He couldn’t help twiddling his thumbs a bit. “So, are you two…?”

  “Relax. We got drunk one night. We’re not in a relationship.”

  Jack felt something in his chest tighten and actively tried not to wince. Kamala sounded sure. Dismissive of the idea, even. As much as Faye annoyed him, he couldn’t stand the thought of her heart being broken.

  “Does she know that?”

  “Of course she does.”

  He did wince that time. At least one thing was clear.

  They were both hopeless cases.

  ~ * ~

  “Since Yagami’s got his ass-hat firmly in place, you want me to pick you up at seven-thirty tomorrow?” Jack asked, rattling his keys in his hands as he stood on Kamala’s front porch.

  “That’s probably a good idea.” She checked her watch and sighed. “Six hours of sleep. I just love being an adult academic.”

  He tossed her a crooked grin. “Ain’t it the best?”

  “Of course.” She opened the door, but paused before going in. Her gaze found him, her voice soft and gentle like a summer breeze in Georgia. “Remember what I said, mera dost. We’ll find our way.”

  Jack nodded and she gave him a peck on the cheek. Faye appeared in the archway to the kitchen, greeting Kamala while stirring a spoon in her chai tea. Once Kamala disappeared around the corner, she walked over and leaned against the doorjamb, her blue eyes cool.

  “Still didn’t tell her, did you?”

  He massaged the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t seem like the right time.”

  “It never will be, you know. You’re gonna have to go for it.” She craned her neck, staring into the apartment distantly. “I wish I could tell you how she’ll react. She’s hard to read sometimes.”

  “Tell me about it,” Jack sighed. “Well, unless you have more sexual harassment for me, I’m out.”

  Faye winked. “I always have more, Stilts, but I’d better let you get some beauty sleep. Rest well. Dream of large women.”

  Jack laughed in surprise. “The Princess Bride? You?”

  “I’m not just another pretty face, big boy.” She shut the door. Jack walked back to his little blue Mazda Protégé shaking his head, but smiling nonetheless.

  ~ * ~

  Jack returned to the apartment promptly at seven-thirty a.m. The door swung open to reveal the bed-headed, sleep-deprived Kamala, and he couldn’t help but smile. His hair always stuck up in the front for some weird reason, and hers was doing a damn good imitation of his at the moment. Unlike him, though, the haphazard wayward locks managed to make her look even cuter than usual.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, waving him inside. “Forgot to set my alarm. I’ll be out in a second.”

  “Take your time.”

  Kamala grunted, shuffling back towards her room. “If I did that, I’d get back in bed for another three hours.”

  He shook his head as she shoved the door shut with her foot. A moment later, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Jack turned.

  A slender fist swung towards his face.

  Jack dodged and grabbed his assailant’s wrist as it breezed by, wrenching it behind the person’s back in an arm lock. He shoved the attacker face-first into the wall without thinking, only to realize it wasn’t a him, but a her.

  “Goddamn it, Faye!” Jack snarled, letting out a huge breath of relief. He dropped his hand from her arm and stepped back, glaring daggers. “What the hell was that for?”

  Faye turned around and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and smirking. “Wow, it really is hard-wired into you, huh?”

  “I could have hurt you, for God’s sake.”

  “What? I was curious. I wanted to know if the other night was just a fluke. Looks like I was wrong.” She rubbed her wrist. “Nice grip. I might have bruises later.”

  “You’re a lunatic, you know that?”

  “Yep. Then again, I did tell you I’d kick your ass if you brought her home after curfew.”

  Jack massaged his temples. “I’m starting to wonder if I should get a restraining order against you.”

  “You’re seriously no fun. All kidding aside, I had a thought.”

  He glared. “I probably don’t want to hear it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “If you ever do tell Kam the truth and you whisk her away to live in your hovel, I’m on my own. I know I mess with you a lot, but I want to know if you could teach me some moves. Nothing fancy. Just basic self-defense.”

  He stared. “You’re serious.”

  “As Harry Potter’s godfather.”

  “That is a stupendously bad idea.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’d love to kick you off a cliff, for one,” he said frankly. “And because I don’t trust you as far as I can kick you off said cliff. How do I know this isn’t one of your vain attempts to seduce me?”

  “Relax. I give you my word this isn’t an attempt to lay your quivering body down by the fireside,” she said with the utmost sarcasm. “I actually think it would be good for me. Especially after that nonsense at the bar.”

  “Normally, I’d say no. Right now, I’ll say hell no. You’re scary enough without knowing how to properly throw a punch.”

  She scowled. “What was wrong with that punch?”

  “You telegraphed it. Wild haymakers are doomed to fail with someone your size. You need a jab or a cross at close range, aimed at the nose or a soft target.” He paused, narrowing his eyes at her. “And you’re not telling me the whole truth anyway. Sure, self-defense is a good lesson for a woman who might be living alone or spending long hours at the university, but that’s not why you asked me. So, what’s the real reason, Faye? What’s going on in that disturbed little mind of yours?”

  “My mind is huge, thank you very much.” She met his gaze, then broke it off, dragging it across him from head to toe. “So, I guess you’ve been wondering why I’m so interested in you all of a sudden.”

  Jack grunted. “Kamala says you like tough guys.”

  “That’s the short version. Before the other night, I thought you were about as easy to read as a Dr. Seuss book. Turns out you aren’t.”

  She lowered her voice and stepped forward, running her fingers over the lapel of his grey sports coat. “But more than that, you have a very interesting past, one that intrigues me. You’re about ninety-five percent fluffy kittens, but that five percent I saw at the bar isn’t. I’ve seen eyes like that befo
re. You’ve seen some shit that you don’t want us to know about. There is something dark inside you, Rhett Jackson. I want to know where it comes from.”

  He stared her down for a moment more. “You want to know, huh?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Jack leaned in and placed both hands on the wall next to her head, his eyes half-lidded, close enough that she could smell his cologne. “You sure?”

  She shivered as he tilted his face towards her ear, his cheek warm along hers.

  “Read the autobiography.”

  Smoothly, he stood to full height just as Kamala’s bedroom door opened. Faye glared at him and he smiled sweetly, glancing at Kamala. “Ready?”

  “Ready.” She blinked at the livid expression on Faye’s face. “I miss something?”

  “Not at all,” Faye sniffed, brushing past them. “Have a good day.”

  Kamala walked with Jack to the car.

  “Why the hell are you smiling so hard?”

  “Oh, no reason.”

  ~ * ~

  “So, I had an epiphany.”

  Kamala sipped her coffee. “You should have that checked out by a doctor.”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “Retracing our steps hasn’t worked. I figured we could reconstruct what we know of dragons based on the remains archaeologists have been studying. That might be the key to cracking the code, so to speak. Maybe, approaching this from the cellular level is blinding us to an obvious fact of some kind. Plus, a little visualization never hurt anybody.”

  She nodded. “Alright. So, where do we start?”

  “Facts, as always. What we know about them, and then we can fill in the blanks with theories afterward. Let’s start with the basics. So far, there are thirty-seven identified species of dragon. The earliest remains are carbon-dated back to the Triassic period, and the most recent remains are carbon-dated at the Mesozoic era and after the Ice Age. Only twelve species of dragon have been identified with flight capabilities. Fifteen have the necessary biological chemicals to blow fire, mainly from sacs located in the mouth that secrete two chemicals which ignite upon mixing, while others produce methane gas ignited by friction in the lining of the throat. Said methane gas also contributes to the flight capabilities of certain species.”

  Kamala nodded again. “Right. Others have been identified to produce poisonous gas or venom to confuse larger predators or paralyze prey. Bones have been gathered on every continent, but found more frequently in North and South America, Africa, China, Europe, Japan, and some of the Pacific Islands.”

  Jack began to pace with his hands in his pockets. He had the room. There were people clustered in groups listening to tour guides wandering past, while others took selfies and photos of the skeleton towering above him.

  The Romer Hall of Vertebrae Paleontology at Harvard museum was home to four different species of dragon, including the largest on record, which stood at thirty-five feet long from snout to tail, and twelve feet tall. It had been excavated from eastern Russia five years before entering a vicious bidding war until it found its home. In consideration of her long claws—talons that were eight inches long—and the working theory that her scales had been grey, she was named Baba Yaga. Like the triceratops and Kronosaurus, it was one of the most popular exhibits in their collection. So much so that they had built her a separate room from the dining hall.

  Jack continued. “They reproduce in the same vein as snakes and lizards, but there is a theory that as they began to die out, a gene developed that allowed them to reproduce asexually in same-sex only environments. Skeletons deduced to be male showed a larger size, and based on the sexual dimorphism shown in related reptiles, they are believed to be more aggressive and brightly colored, as well as being apex predators.”

  He smirked, gesturing to the looming titan behind him. “Our lovely Baba Yaga being the exception. I still think that she should have been called Big Mama.”

  “Hilarious. If we do create our dragon, you’re definitely not in charge of naming it.”

  “Killjoy. Anyway, aside from the fossils we’ve unearthed, the living habits of dragons have been determined as similar to their reptile brothers and sisters. They stay near a water source and make a den either underground or in wooded areas where there is plenty of prey. Smaller species live in trees, swamps, and occasionally deserts in the case of firsthand accounts in Egypt, Libya, and Sudan. They are solitary creatures, though the smaller species have some sort of pack structure. The un-hatched fossilized eggs suggest they are oviparous and bury their eggs before abandoning the nest. Their mating season and habits have also yet to be determined. Hence why it’s so damn hard to clone one, apparently.”

  Kamala hid a smile and swooped in from there. “Depending on the hostility of its environment, the average dragon had a lifespan of anywhere between nine and forty years. They migrate to a warmer climate to lay their eggs. As far as their extinction goes, many of the larger breeds died out during the period the dinosaurs did. Those that survived were hunted to extinction in the dragon-hunting renaissance.”

  “So, what are we missing?”

  “Good question,” Kamala sighed, lifting her gaze to the monstrous jaws hovering above her. “Finishing the DNA sequence to create an egg was successful, but each of the reproductive trials has failed. We’ve tried various temperatures, various samples, and various controls. All negative. We’ve scoured every bit of data we have on their reproduction and yet, we have been unable to combine the sperm and egg.”

  “Well, we are operating at a huge disadvantage since there has never been any remains found from a fetus. All we’ve had were fossilized egg shells. If we were able to study their genetic makeup before birth, we might have a breakthrough. The closest we’ve come is identifying their closest genetic relative, the Komodo dragon.”

  “What if we started in that direction?” Kamala asked. “Instead of focusing on the trials with fertilizing the egg based on theory, what if the reproductive habits of the Komodo dragon can lead us to a step we missed?”

  He stopped pacing. “That… actually is a great idea. Maybe it’s not just the sperm and the egg, like we’ve been focused on. Maybe it has to do with the mating habits in general. There could be a link between the two. After all, Komodo dragons have the rare ability to partake in parthenogenesis. We’ve assumed the only option to recreate a dragon has been through both sexes, but there might be the potential in asexual reproduction instead.”

  He grinned, adopting a terrible British accent. “By Jove, Watson, you’ve done it again.”

  Kamala shook her head. “You are such a dork.”

  “I consider that a compliment, old girl.” Jack swiveled on his heel, and nearly bumped into a small curly-haired girl, no more than six or seven-years-old. A few freckles dusted her nose, matching her mousey brown hair, and her eyes were pale green, staring up at him unblinking. She appeared to have overheard a great deal of what he and Kamala had been discussing based on the interest clear on her young face.

  He glanced to and fro, not seeing a parent who looked anything like her nearby.

  “Uh. Hi there.”

  The girl smiled, revealing that her two front teeth were missing. “Hi.”

  Jack cleared his throat. “Ah, where are your parents?”

  The girl shrugged. Jack decided to clarify. “Did you come here with your parents?”

  She nodded. Jack got a sinking feeling. “Oh. Are you lost?”

  Another shrug. The fact that she was possibly alone didn’t seem to scare her, to Jack’s relief. He glanced at Kamala, who came over and squatted before the child.

  “What’s your mother’s name, sweetheart?”

  The girl’s nose wrinkled in thought. “Barbara.”

  “Okay,” Kamala said, offering her hand. “Why don’t we go find her?”

  “Mmkay.” The girl too
k Kamala’s hand and then offered her other one to Jack expectantly. He looked at Kamala for a panicked second, and she giggled, nodding that it was alright. He clasped the child’s tiny hand in his huge one and they started walking towards the customer service area of the Museum of Natural History.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Hayley,” the girl replied.

  “Well, Hayley, I’m Kamala and this is Jack.”

  Hayley glanced between the two of them. “I like dragons.”