“Oh,” the young man said. “Thanks, sir.”
“On the wagon?”
“Yes, please.”
Bade lifted the desk and helped him bind it on. The fellow, dressed in gray, slapped the dust from his hands and smiled.
“You must be the stranger from Bulgaria. I’m Joseph.”
He shook the offered hand. “I am Bade. Where are you headed?”
“My wife and I are loading up on the Bulgarian ship for passage to France. She has family there.”
“Why?” Bade asked. “This place is quite unique.” He had gotten the impression those still on the island thumbed their nose at the elements and convention.
“And no place to raise a family,” Joseph said grimly. “Amy and I grew up in the last batch of children born. There were five of us among a few families. Two already left. We stayed until our parents passed.”
“Who is the last?”
Joseph scoffed. “That crazy girl, Alice. She’ll never leave. I never thought I would, but it’s become lonely now. I will make barrels and the babies my wife wants on the mainland. This island is…too rustic for my dreams.”
“I can see how it could be.”
Joseph offered his hand again. “But it’s a grand place for those searching for privacy and an adventure. I hope you enjoy both, sir. Thanks again for the help.”
His reasons for leaving mirrored Bade’s to stay. However, now he had to consider progeny. If he and Alice…he shook his head. He couldn’t think that far into the future let alone borrow trouble of such magnitude.
With their camaraderie, Alice might make him a good mate. However, if her stubbornness transferred into her personal relationships, they had years before any such worries warranted energy.
Bade took his time on the short remaining walk, enjoying the early autumn air and anticipating warm bread with squirrel stew. He needed to check his traps again, soon, but had enough blood for Walter for the time being. Walter. Such a mundane name for what was sure to be a glorious creature. Yet, it seemed to tickle Alice, so he resigned himself to more silly names for any others who survived. Perhaps he would get a Boris or an Olimpia.
Smoke and tiny cries greeted him when he opened the door. He dropped his bag and ran to Alice, who knelt beside the fire.
“What is happening?” he asked.
She kept her focus on her lap. “Can you take the bread outside, please? I couldn’t get to it.”
So calm. Bade grabbed the heavy stone of burnt bread, set it outside, and left the door propped open for fresh air. He grabbed a fresh bowl of blood for Walter as the chirping continued. He returned and much to his surprise found five tiny dragons wandering around in the box.
“They are here?” Bade cried. “All of them?”
Walter lorded over the new babies, nudging them into a line, as the eldest was said to do. So few survived. To see five….
“I tried,” Alice whispered beside him and held out a tiny green dragon, still half in its shell. “Walter started squalling so I got up to check if he needed blood. The blue had already hatched and wobbled all over. I got him blood and then the orange and red baby started out of their shells. The orange one was stuck, so I helped him and when I was helping, the green…he…he. I couldn’t get his shell off.”
Bade nodded and gently took the lifeless dragon. As he feared from her description, the little wings had grown into its shell. It happened in half of all eggs with no rhyme or reason, but Alice probably didn’t know that. He checked the orange dragon, remembering her saying she’d helped it. The orange wings weren’t as large as its brothers and sisters, but the valiant baby wandered and sniffed. He didn’t know what her future held, but he’d do his best to help.
“I’m sorry.” Tears ran down Alice’s face when she took the lifeless body again. “I know how much they mean to you. Maybe if I’d had both of my arms, I could have helped him.”
He poured more blood into Walter’s bowl and took a seat on the floor between Alice and the box, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
“You must not be down on yourself. You have accomplished an amazing feat in assisting five dragons to life. The one in your hand, yes, it is sad, but without you, the orange one would surely have died. In my wildest dreams, I didn’t anticipate five living. The usual numbers are so much lower. You’ve achieved something…so wonderful.”
She sniffed and wiped her cheek with her sleeve. “You’re just saying that.”
He hugged her closer. “Of course not. You can read my dragon journal and see the statistics. The misshapen wing is a sad and unfortunate truth of this breed. You saved the orange. Now, what is her name?”
“It’s a girl?”
He double checked. “Yes. Observe the difference in the orange’s tail and Walter’s.”
She nodded. “Oh, that’s right. She reminds me of Rusty. How about Rustyann?”
She could have picked a worse name and he’d have agreed. “Rustyann. Very fitting for one so fine.”
They sat together and watched the babies eat. Bade crossed another thing off his mental checklist, grateful they ate without assistance. His experience told him half would die before the next moon, but he’d take every good sign to heart and hope for the best.
“What do we do with the little green?” she asked.
The natural thing was to let the others eat it, as happened in the wild, but he didn’t think Alice’s gentle heart could handle such carnality.
“What say you we incinerate him and send him off into the sky with his dragon brethren before him?”
Her red-rimmed eyes glistened with tears. “I think he would like that.”
He took the limp body from her lap and helped Alice to her feet. Walter and the brood rested now, blood on their noses and small puffs of smoke coming from their mouths. Remembering the task at hand, he took a torch and lit it. Alice watched, a sad frown on her beautiful face. She appeared younger, more vulnerable, and he wished the path they walked would never include sorrow again.
Alice followed Bade out of the cabin, heart breaking despite his reassurances. She’d gotten attached to the eggs and the idea of more Walters. Bade set the lost baby down in the clearing near the edge of the cliff. The sun beat down but Alice wished for rain, something dismal to match the moment. Bade bowed his head and she once again realized how close he was to the dragons. He’d known them from the moment their eggs were laid, yet he remained stoic. She respected his strength. His calm helped her regain composure.
Bade patted the dragon and stood, lighting the grass around it on fire. The smoke from the wet grass engulfed the body and finished it in a puff of black. He moved to her side and put his arm around her shoulders.
She hadn’t been touched much, but he didn’t ask, just invaded her space and offered comfort. She rested her head on his shoulder while one she’d so hoped to meet joined the likes of Rusty and his parents. The fire burned out in minutes, the grass too wet to support it long. When Alice checked the embers, she found all remains gone.
“He is a child of fire,” Bade explained. “You’ll never find a skeleton because they combust if not consumed.”
Alice nodded and stayed close to Bade’s side on the long walk to the cottage. She had room to move away, but took comfort in his strong embrace.
Once inside, though, she needed to see to the remaining dragons. She might like Bade, but they had work to do. Alice needed the clear head she didn’t have with him so close.
She stepped away and wiped the remaining tears from her face.
“I should clean up and maybe make some more bread. Sorry it didn’t turn out.”
He picked up the supplies he’d tossed aside earlier. “I found plums. If you’re feeling up to baking…?”
She took the bag and smiled. “I suppose it’s the least I can do to make up for being such a huge crybaby.”
“Not a baby. Soft hearted,” Bade said.
“Yeah, well, call it what you want. I cried like a toddler.”
She started to walk away, but he stilled her arm. She peeked up at his face, so soft with kindness her heart skipped. Something deeper than compassion lingered in in his gaze. She grabbed tight to it and hoped for more.
“It is impossible to work with dragons without the occasional loss. However, in other aspects of life, I will do all in my power to see your heart never has cause to break again.”
She swallowed, not entirely sure what he meant, but his words touched her. Alice nodded and hurried to the table, ready to make him plum cobbler and decide how much of her heart she wanted to put in his hands.
Chapter Nine
Walter, Mimi, Rustyann, Abner, and Fatty toddled around the cottage floor, having once again escaped their box. Alice sat on her bed, cross-legged, unable to dim her grin. They made her heart fly.
Bade had left at dawn for the cottage he’d bought from Joseph and Amy. She’d told him to wait and take it over, but the man seemed to enjoy spending money. At first she’d thought he would move to the larger dwelling, but he used it to store his supplies. Walter bit at Bade’s blanket. He’d put a narrow bed perpendicular to the foot of her bed, retiring the bedroll he’d used near the fire since his arrival. He’d had to, after Walter chewed it to bits. She wondered if he’d ever get around to building onto the cottage as he’d promised.
The dragons reached to her knees now, at only a week old. Their near constant consumption of blood fueled the growth of not only their bodies, but their personalities as well. Walter continued being leader of the pack whereas Mimi preferred to be pampered and warm. Abner seemed slightly slow and timid, but Rustyann was fearless, already running and attempting to fly a few inches off the ground. And Fatty, dear, sweet Fatty who had started life named Jack, kept his butt planted in the blood bowl and sucked down whatever Bade brought home, reaffirming his nickname every day.
Her darling orange love neared the fire where yet another cobbler baked. Alice prepared a sweet treat every day because it never lasted. Bade spent hours tracking food for the dragons and when he returned, he ate stew but savored the cobbler. She hadn’t thought anything could make her enjoy baking, but the gratitude and pleasure on his face….
“Rustyann, get away from the fire.”
The babies found the fire intriguing but didn’t venture too close. If not for their pointy teeth tearing into everything, she wouldn’t have bothered her honey, but Alice jumped to her feet, plucked Rustyann from near the cobbler, and placed her back in her box. She refilled the blood bowl. Fatty squealed in glee and shoved his nose into his dinner. The other four ate with gusto.
Alice sat at the table and continued to observe. If all five made it to adulthood, she would be in work for the rest of her life. She picked up the mirror she’d polished the night before and began reflecting the firelight into bright specks in the blood. The five froze a moment before they followed the light.
Dragon charming already worked, their instinctive desire to chase shiny things a boon to her job. Starting with them so young might even give her a better edge on keeping them happy and safe in a world of humans. She put the mirror away, letting them eat once again.
The dinner, provided by many squirrels and a giant raccoon, didn’t last long. Fatty followed the last droplet to the corner and collapsed in a heap of napping dragon, most of the others following his lead. Walter gazed at her and licked his lips.
They needed to find something more substantial for them soon; she just didn’t know what. Bade had said something about mammals being their preferred feed, but Rusty had subsisted on seafood. She’d offered them fresh fish blood, but they’d turned their noses up, even Fatty. Still, their best bet, short of butchering a cow or pig, was to get the little ones to develop a taste for the sea’s finest.
Walter waddled to her. She lifted him onto her lap and cuddled him close. Bade swore dragons didn’t cuddle and didn’t want human touch…but had eaten his words when Walter clawed and jumped his way into bed with her. She didn’t know how long it would last, but she didn’t mind finding all five, even bloody-nosed Fatty, curled at her feet. Bade often shook his head and made notes.
The Bulgarian who occupied so much of her thinking opened the door and stomped in, a large fox in hand and triumphant expression on his face.
“The little ones shall eat again.” He set the carcass down.
“My poor table,” she lamented. “Though, I suppose the blood stains give it a uniqueness.”
He winced and lifted the fox. “I apologize. I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, no, go for it. Too late to change now. We might as well be practical.”
He nodded and dressed the body, tossing the fur onto the pile they planned to trade for supplies. “I will build you a new table top this winter when the hours indoors are long. Hopefully by then we will have a better food supply for the babies and won’t have to rely on table-butchered critters. I am thinking I will buy cows soon to keep up with the dragons.”
The flourishing island cattle tended to be small, raggedy things, most happy in the hills. And to buy them just to feed them to the babies…she had money—and knew he did, but they’d go broke with their brood. After the eggs hatched, she’d lost her mercenary mindset about getting all she could from him. She figured her foremothers would forgive her if they took into consideration the dragons and how stinking cute the Bulgarian was when he ate cobbler.
“I think we’re better off getting them to drink the blood of fish,” she said. “You know, my mom would just keep giving me the same crap to eat until I got used to it. Maybe it would work with these guys.”
He nodded. “Perhaps. My mother had the same theory on children. I don’t want to upset the dragons though. Their constitution is quite delicate.”
Alice rubbed Walter’s head as he snuggled down in her skirts. “Yeah, I know, I’m just not sure…what about lizards or something?”
He paused in butchering and wiped a line of sweat from his brow. “Many lizards here?”
“Oh sure. I find chameleons and salamanders all the time. It would take a lot to feed these guys, though.”
“What about those things Henry has? Are there many of those in the wild?”
“Alligators?” The large reptiles could be the answer to their problems. “You know, there are a few nests of wild ones, but Henry has a bunch of them, like, dozens lurking on his property.”
He stopped working with the fox and rested both hands on the counter. “And these alligators reproduce well?”
“The damn things have for years,” she replied. “Someone a few generations back brought them here for shits and giggles. They have no natural predators, so end up growing huge. Do the little dragons store energy like the big ones? Would a big meal satisfy them for a few weeks?”
“Absolutely, and it would transition them to sea life. Yes, I like this plan. How do we get them?”
Alice grinned. “Oh, we’ll figure it out.”
“Could we buy them?”
She snorted and set the sleeping Walter on her bed. “We could, but that would make Henry happy. I prefer to piss him off as often as possible.”
Bade laughed. She’d thought the sound of chirping dragons the sweetest in the world, but changed her mind the first time Bade’s pleasure showed in laughter.
“Yes, I think I prefer your way.” He added the fox blood to the bowl. Walter’s talons clenched and unclenched. One eye and then the other opened until he pushed to his feet and ambled to the meal.
Bade sat beside her on the bench and patted her knee. “The young look fantastic today. Their scales glisten in the firelight. That’s a sign of strength.”
He skipped words on occasion, especially when angry or excited.
“And the cobbler smells good.”
The rough quality of his tone grabbed her attention from the babies. She turned to find his eyes on her, glistening like the dragon scales he’d described. Firelight danced in the dark color, but the warmth glowed from within. Every day she grew closer to him
. They walked the floor at night when the dragons fussed. They ate side by side, slept foot to foot.… To the best of her knowledge, she was the first in generations of her line to have an actual relationship with a man. Had the others known what they were missing?
He drew closer, stopping every other moment. In their late night talks, she’d learned he’d spent the same amount of time with the opposite sex as she had—virtually none. Still, she followed his lead and leaned toward him. Their lips a breath apart, she stopped, unsure of herself and the next touch. She reached up and grasped his arm, ready to have her first kiss.
Bade’s eyelids drifted closed but Alice kept hers wide open, wanting to see it all. His breath brushed her lips, and her heart raced.
He jumped, jarring her hand from his arm. Bade swore and hopped from one foot to the other. She looked down to find Rustyann with her mouth wrapped around his ankle. Alice laughed and pried the girl off.
“What’s gotten into her?” He scowled at the orange toddler.
Alice picked her up and patted her head. Rustyann nipped her finger and gave her a purely feminine scowl.
“Well.” She held back her chuckle. “I’d say she’s jealous.”
“Jealous?”
“Apparently she doesn’t think you need to be kissing any girls but her.”
She held Rustyann to Bade and though the big, tough Bulgarian claimed dragons didn’t gain from human contact, he lifted her in his arms and patted her head.
“You silly girl,” he muttered, scratching between her pointy ears.
Though the moment for their first kiss passed, thanks to a dragon with a crush, Alice couldn’t be totally disappointed. Bade spoke and cuddled Rustyann, showing again the soft, nurturing side she’d come to adore. It made that first kiss they would share in the future much more enticing and much more…permanent. When they took the steps to be together, they would be lasting.
He quirked his eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothing.” She sat back at the table and stretched her arm. “Now, let’s get down to business. Stealing Henry’s alligators—this is going to be fun.”
Alice's Dragon (The Challenge Series) Page 4