She stopped for a lunch break and quietly refilled the tray with whatever she could find from the rather bare pantry and refrigerator, mostly canned soups and sliced deli meats. Going to the store would be on tomorrow’s list. She ducked back upstairs with the food. Aunt Jean had always said writers were expected to be reclusive, so she wouldn’t think it odd that Lyra took her meals upstairs.
In a couple hours, Lyra returned to the kitchen. Nancy tended to her routines, got medicines in order and gathered readings of vital signs. In a hushed voice, Lyra asked, “How’s she doing? You said she hasn’t been tolerating the treatment well. Was she okay while I was gone?” She took a deep breath, knowing the answer would be painfully long, but really needed the information.
“Well, her fever spiked a few times pretty high and her respiratory rate was up, which made me glad I’d stayed since she got delusional and cried out, but she’s improved now and just terribly weakened by both the cancer and the treatment, although I have to say she’s one tough old lady, got more grit than most I’ve worked for and she’s giving the chemo a run for its money.”
Still unclear through the long-winded answer, Lyra asked another way, “Will she be okay?” Her lower lip trembled.
Nancy threw a long, gangly arm around her shoulder. “Like I said, she’s a tough lady and will fight hard, and in my honest opinion, she can lick this bout, but I can’t in good faith promise you; it’s just my gut feeling, if that’s worth anything or helps you since I’ve seen a good many of these cases, and I aim to take good care of her—you can count on that.”
“Thank you, Nancy. That helps.” She pulled away, walked to the doorway of the master bedroom, and gazed at her sleeping aunt, so pale and fragile. Lyra badly wanted to share her last adventure in Dragonspeir. After all, she’d kept Jean’s motto with her through it all, Keep a clear head, but follow your heart. She was eager to bring fun and excitement back to cheer the lady who’d given her so much. A tear trickled down Lyra’s cheek.
The dragons would get some time outside after the nurse left, but she couldn’t wait. Some fresh air would keep these emotions from overwhelming her. After a quick dash upstairs for a pair of shoes and to give directions to Noba, she headed out the front door, glad to feel the calming warmth of sun on her skin.
She ambled down the walk. Aunt Jean’s flowers needed a bit of a trim, but still showed some care from her earlier efforts. Lyra looked down the street and noticed Mrs. Kendall, working in her beds. She headed that way to pay a visit.
She reached the white picket fence and called out, “Hello! How are you?”
“Lyra! So nice to see you. Come in for a spell.” Her dog raced up and jumped at the gate, tail wagging like a metronome. “Buddy, let her in! Really, I know you’re glad to see her. I am too.” She limped over and slowly stooped to get a hold of the collie. “It’s okay now. Come on.”
Buddy’s welcome cheered Lyra. She smiled and gave Mrs. Kendall a hug and her dog a good long pat on the tummy. “I needed a break from my writing and thought I’d come by and see your wonderful flowers. They’re lovely.”
Vigor showed in the gleam of her neighbor’s eyes. “Thank you, dear. I’ve worked hard on my phlox; they keep getting a fungal infection. After all these years, I finally figured out the lamb’s ear prefers the shade under that maple. And the lavender’s a challenge to keep trimmed, but it’s doing well here.”
Lyra walked along the neatly trimmed beds. “It all looks very pretty. I hear you gather bouquets for the nursing home. That’s nice of you.”
“It’s a way to give back, to be needed since my Harvey died. My garden is all I have to keep me going now, but I’m thankful for that and to be capable still. The work keeps me healthy.”
“Aunt Jean’s not doing well after her last chemo.” She hesitated, uncertain how to express her feelings. “I wish I could do more.”
The elderly lady slipped a hand from its garden glove and placed it on Lyra’s shoulder. “You’re here, sharing life and happiness. That gives her more than you know.”
Lyra let a few tears fall as she hugged the thin shoulders of her neighbor. She pulled back and lowered her head to play with Buddy, not wanting her tears to be noticed.
A large black butterfly with purple eyespots, the same as the one that acted strangely before, fluttered at her throat and tried to land on her black amber necklace. It caught her off guard, and she was slow to brush it away.
“I remember that kind of butterfly floating around you as a girl, playing games in and out of the flowers with you. Haven’t seen many of those since. Must be our harsh winters lately.” She touched a few bright blossoms. “I’ll bring a bouquet to Jean and a casserole for you since you’re busy writing.” She smiled. “When’s a good time of day for her?”
“Early morning or during dinner hour.” Lyra wondered why that large black butterfly had watched her for years.
“Tomorrow I have a doctor’s appointment, just a check up, but I’ll be by the day after.”
Lyra stood and stepped through the gate. “I’ll look for you then. Thanks lots, Mrs. Kendall.” She waved and headed home, her heart lifted.
***
Back at the cottage, the dragons greeted Lyra at her bedroom door, ready for a backyard outing.
With two pairs of eager eyes fastened to her, she said, “All right, come along. The nurse is gone now.” She herded them out the back patio door to the yard.
“Yeoww!” Noba yelped with glee as he raced through the grass, the baby chasing him. Yasqu now equaled him in size and strength, and soon caught up. The two wrestled playfully, rolling over on the lawn.
The bronze dragon snorted smoke and an occasional spark. Luckily, the summer leaves were still full of moisture and not likely to catch fire.
Lyra sat in a folding chair, on guard for neighbors, and watched the dragons nip, squeal, and leap for half an hour, until they panted, lying flat out for a rest.
She motioned them onto the patio. “You’ve played hard. Let’s get some dinner now. Come on inside.”
The television mesmerized the two dragons while Lyra browned herbed chicken breasts and steamed some rice and vegetables. The longer they stayed, the more her guests liked human food, so she prepared more servings. As things cooked, she went to check on her aunt and found her awake. “Good evening. Would you like some dinner with us? Chicken, rice, and vegetables, or I can make you something else.”
“That sounds fine. I think I’ll try and eat at the table tonight, if you’d help me.” Holding onto the railing, she sat more upright and pushed the covers off.
“Certainly. Let me pull up your walker first.” She held an arm to support her aunt, lowered the bed rail, and eased her from the bed, moving her feet into slippers. “You smell nice, and the pink pajamas are pretty.”
“I had Nancy use some orange body wash for my bath today. Thought I’d try to have dinner with you all tonight. I feel better now that the chemo effect is letting up a bit.”
Once they arrived in the kitchen, the food smelled done and delicious. Scents of oregano and garlic filled the air.
The dragons circled round, tongues whipping out, tasting the air. As soon as Noba saw Jean, he made a beeline to her side. “Noba can help Auntie.”
Lyra pointed toward the breakfast table. “You can pull that chair out for her and slowly push it under her as she sits down.”
“Yes. Noba can.”
With his careful assistance, Jean was comfortably seated. “Thank you. I heard you outside playing. I’ll bet you’re hungry.”
Lyra filled plates for her and Jean and then heaped two large mixing bowls with mounds of rice topped with some chicken and vegetables for the dragons.
After setting the bowls on the floor, they wasted no time. The sounds of slurps and smacking lips told her they liked it.
Her aunt didn’t have much appetite but did her best. “My, they love to eat.” She chuckled.
“Dragons seem to eat a lot of anything. They aren�
��t fussy eaters. I need to get to the store tomorrow.”
“Can Noba and Yasqu watch more TV?” the pseudodragon asked through a yawn.
Lyra escorted the pair to the family room and selected a cartoon channel to amuse them. Back in the kitchen, she picked up their licked-clean bowls and placed them in the sink.
“Sit down and tell me about your adventure, dear,” Jean urged, taking a sip of coffee.
Lyra topped up their cups and told all about what occurred over the three days in Dragonspeir. Her aunt listened intently. “Something strange happened to me when Cullen risked his own life to save Noba. I can’t figure it out. I felt a fire deep inside me that rose up. It startled me at first. Then, while I focused on two ideas, that flame channeled where I directed it. The first idea—I realized Cullen is a loving and caring man. I’d worried wizards had no use for such feelings. The second—your reminder, to keep a clear head, but follow my heart.”
Jean smiled, moved her hand over and took hold of Lyra’s.
“Holding onto those thoughts, I focused on the fire inside me and I couldn’t believe what happened—I could make the power move to my hand or fingers and do as I willed it, even shoot up to the clouds. But, it took those two thoughts for me to have that control. Why?”
“I’m no sorceress, witch, or whatever. But I do know when you learn a man has the qualities you need to respect him, be proud of him, and feel secure with him, love grows into a force with amazing strength. Have you told him just what you explained to me?”
Lyra looked down. She tried to tell him that morning beside the pool. “I…I wanted to, but…there’s so much pain from my divorce. There’s not much left for me to give.”
“It’s okay, dear. Your heart still hurts. You’ll be able to tell him when it’s right. Don’t rush yourself. I’m sure Cullen understands. He knows what you’ve been through.”
Lyra nodded and squeezed her aunt’s hand. “He does. You’re right. Thanks.” She peered around the corner and grinned. “Fast asleep. Looks like I have two trips to make upstairs to carry them to bed.”
“Then me,” Jean said through a yawn.
Lyra rose and one-by-one got all three to bed. She pulled the covers up for her aunt and kissed her on the cheek, before she lifted the bed rail. “Night, Big Bear.”
“Goodnight, my Little Butterfly.”
She padded into the kitchen and started cleaning up, intending to spend a few more hours on her writing afterwards. Her cell phone rang a familiar ring—Cullen. She smiled and answered, “Hi! Glad you called.”
“How’d your day go? I hope you got lots of writing accomplished.” His voice was cheery and his words flowed quickly.
“The day was good. I spent time with my aunt. Didn’t write as much as I wanted.” She clanged a few pans as she loaded the dishwasher.
“Sounds like you’re doing chores. How about tomorrow? Any work or can you spend it writing? I won’t feel right taking you on our date if you don’t, and I want to show you that place.”
“Where’s that?” She chuckled.
“You know it’s a secret,” he scolded, jokingly. “Nice try though. I really want to see you.”
“Me too. I can get some done tomorrow, but I have to go to the grocery store.” She laughed. “Dragons are eating machines.”
“Yes, they certainly are. What if I come by, pick up your list, and fill it for you?”
“Thanks, but are you sure? You could make some food appear, but the nurse will be here and I need supplies for dinner.”
“No, don’t want to frighten the locals. I’ll do my best with the mission.” He laughed. “Besides, it gives me reasons to stay longer to help put things away.”
“Like the sound of that. See you tomorrow.”
“Around two. Until then.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Barracuda or Panther
Cullen stepped into the entryway, slipped his arms around her waist, and drew her close into a kiss that took her breath away. Tingles ran down her spine.
When they finally pulled apart she said, “Mmm, hello. I’d forgotten how nice your kisses feel.”
“Then I shouldn’t be apart from you for so long.”
She laughed. “It’s only been a day and a half.”
The sound of his arrival brought the two dragons racing to the door to greet him. They tackled his lower legs and flew up higher until Lyra stopped them. “It’s too small an area for you to fly here. You’ll break some of Auntie’s nice decorations.”
Cullen stooped down and rubbed their bellies. “Good to see you two.” He looked up at her. “Shouldn’t they be upstairs, so no one discovers them?”
“Noba helps Auntie now too!” His familiar proudly stated. “Hands her books and spectacles and TV control and fetches Lady Lyra when she needs her.”
The wizard laughed. “Aunt Jean must like your company.”
Yasqu gave a sharp snert.
“And yours as well, I’m sure.”
He stood and addressed Lyra. “Did they scare her at first?”
She nodded with a grin. “But not for long. She’s used to my strange adventures.”
“Do you have a grocery list for me to fill? And where’s the nurse, or does she also know about these two?”
Lyra led him to the kitchen, dragons following. “No, she’s gone for lunch and an errand for some medicines. Due back any minute.” Handing him the list, she continued, “Don’t know if this will all make sense to a grand Imperial Sorcerer, but you can call me if you get confused.”
He snatched the note indignantly. “Hmm, we grand wizards can do anything, with or without magic.” He studied the items. “What are kidney beans? Kidneys or beans?”
She smiled. “I can tell you’ve conjured too many meals.”
“You seemed to enjoy my magical meal the evening we spent beside the pool.” His tone lowered and he sounded a bit defensive.
“Mmm, that was a wonderful dinner.” She led him back toward the door. “You’ll have an adventure at the store. Call if you need help.”
He leaned to her for a quick kiss. “A few more kisses and I might conjure another good meal for you before I leave. Save you from spending time cooking, so you can write.”
She flashed him a smile. “You just want an excuse to hang around longer. I’ll see if I can get Nancy to go home earlier today, so you can cook.”
Curious about what sort of car he drove, she watched as he left. He never mentioned it. They always used hers or walked. From her position at the door, she could see a blue fender with a white stripe. The vehicle backed slowly onto the street. Her mouth dropped open -- classic mid-seventies Plymouth Barracuda. A muscle car! She stared as he drove away, taking in details. Immaculate with no rust, wide tires, engine purring.
***
After Cullen left, Lyra settled the dragons into playtime upstairs.
Nancy arrived shortly and occupied herself, calling medical suppliers and checking about routine care matters.
While Jean napped, Lyra tried to write on the patio. With the household quiet, writing should have come easily. After a page, her mind drifted to Cullen, wondering about his amazing car. Why didn’t he call wanting help? An hour passed. She grinned to herself—typical male, would rather die than ask for help. Forcing herself to focus, she ground out another page. After another thirty minutes her phone rang.
“Can I help you?”
“What is kitty litter and where do I find it?” His voice sounded agitated as if he’d looked for a while without success.
She muffled a laugh. It struck her funny, picturing a powerful wizard with a hot rod buying litter. “In the pet isle. They’re pellets used to deodorize cat waste since they stay indoors.”
After a long pause, he said, “You don’t have a cat.”
She managed to squelch her laughter. “But, I do have small dragon house guests who can’t go outside often, thanks to nosy neighbors. How long have you owned that car?”
“Found it. I’ll tell you
about that later. You trained my familiar to use kitty litter? Poor guy.”
Her laughter spilled out. “Doesn’t really fit with your image, driving that muscle car.”
The phone went dead. He didn’t seem to enjoy her joke. Had she hurt his feelings?
***
When Cullen arrived, Lyra met him to unload the bags. The car’s white stripe curved back to its tail. Her curiosity burned. He opened the trunk and shook his head. “Kitty litter?”
“Umm.” Was his question rhetorical? She changed the subject. “So tell me about this car? When did you get it?”
He shook his head again, leaned over, and gave her a quick kiss, before he grabbed the heavy bag of litter. “If your kisses weren’t nearly as good…”
She gripped several sacks and followed in silence. She hoped his wounded ego would ease if she kept quiet.
Finally, on their way back out for more, he explained, “I bought it in the mid-seventies, when I was asked to spend most of my time outside of Dragonspeir. Living here was an exciting change and I wanted to fit in. Before that, I’d only been permitted to make brief visits.”
“In the mid-seventies? Why then? Fit in? I think you’d stand out with this.” She peered inside, then ran a hand along the curve of the upper fender. “Bet this is easy to keep in running order if you conjure repairs.”
He tilted his head and smiled. “What important happened then?”
She wrinkled her nose, considering historical events that might have affected him or the Alliance. Watergate? No. Vietnam war ended? No. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest? Not likely. What then? “I can’t think of anything.”
“This is a 1973 model which I bought used, two years later.” His eyebrows raised as he stared at her.
She drew a hand to her forehead. “The year I was born? You were asked to live here from the year I was born? No!”
He nodded. “The Imperial Dragon learned that the next Scribe had been born and requested Eburscon and me to spend time in this world. The alchemist refused, claiming he had too many important projects which needed his attention.”
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