Cora and the Nurse Dragon

by H. L. Burke

  “Okay, but I don’t think there’s any harm having him riding along to the Emporium. He can stay in my book bag.”

  “Oh, that reminds me! I want to stop by the library and see if they have a better classification book than mine. One that actually tells us something about Cricket.” Abry grabbed her book bag.

  “After the Emporium.” Cora frowned.

  Abry wrinkled her nose. “Okay, bossy. After.”

  Chapter Nine

  Nurse Dragon

  In spite of her earlier confidence, Cora waited outside the Emporium with Cricket while Abry bought the eggs. The thought of someone seeing Cricket and demanding that Cora prove he was rightfully hers terrified her.

  You are mine. I may not have bought you, but Xavian threw you away, and I found you. That makes you more mine than money ever could.

  She watched through the glass. Though she trusted Abry to stick to their plan to get the agreed upon “mini-pack” first, she still felt anxious, as if they were doing something wrong. No one outside of the factories had ever bred and sold dragons. Could it be illegal? No, how could something like that be against the law? Besides, Abry’s mom knew all about the law. Maybe they could ask her later.

  Abry emerged, clutching the small balsa wood box to her chest. “I can’t wait to get started. It’s like the night before Christmas or your birthday, when you don’t know what you’re going to get.”

  “New socks, a piece of stick candy, and one of those wooden toys my dad carves. I always know what I’m going to get.” Cora shrugged.

  Abry flushed, and Cora had to look away. She didn’t mean to rub it in my face that her parents have more money than my dad. Why do I say things like that? It’s not like she’s a spoiled, rich brat like Xavian. Her parents work hard, just in a different way.

  “Do you think I can bring Cricket into the library?” she asked.

  Abry’s brow furrowed. “Hmm. You aren’t supposed to bring in pets, but if I want to compare him to the pictures in the big reference books, he’ll have to come in. I don’t think they let you check out the big ones. Just keep him in your book bag.”

  Cora peeked into her bag, which was empty except for her cardigan and Cricket. Cricket had twisted himself into the cardigan’s sleeve so only the tip of his nose stuck out, and he appeared to be sleeping.

  “He should be fine.”

  They started up the big, stone steps of the marble pillared library. Cora only came here with Abry, and only when Abry absolutely insisted. It was one of those places she just didn’t fit in.

  The librarian’s eyes followed the girls as they passed the shiny wood of the front desk. When Abry waved, the librarian smiled then looked back down at her pile of books. Picking up a rubber stamp, she flipped the first book open to the cover page and gave it a stamp, then whisked it to the side, and took the second book. She worked quickly and mechanically, like a wind-up toy. Stamp, whisk, stamp, whisk … Cora found herself stepping in time with the rhythm.

  Behind the shelves was an alcove with a massive dictionary on a stand and tables surrounded by wooden chairs. A short, stout bookshelf took up the entire back wall of this niche, filled with the biggest books Cora had ever seen. Abry pulled one out and nearly keeled over backwards. She staggered over to the table and set it down with a bang.

  Both girls looked around. No one rushed over to kick them out. Abry took a chair and flipped through. “Again, we can rule out mayflies, and I think racers … Let’s try this chapter.” She pointed to the table of contents and an entry that read, Rare and extinct dragon varieties. Page 440.

  The book had a musty scent. Cora doubted most people bothered to research this sort of thing. The types of dragons available were common knowledge, memorized by school children obsessed with races and new pets. Why study what you already know?

  The first page had the queens, definitely rare, but still common knowledge. The illustrator had drawn them with flashing scales in a rainbow of colors but the notation admitted it was almost impossible for a still image to capture their glory. Queens were responsible for every variety of dragon, the only members of the species able to lay eggs.

  A new queen is only produced when the old queen grows old or ill or when the colony is too large and needs to be split. Ownership of queens is regulated by the Dragon Regulatory Agency, due to unlawful breeding mills set up in the early part of the last century and the danger inherent in private individuals owning these large and temperamental dragons.

  “I wish I could see a queen,” Cora whispered.

  “The dragon factory downtown has one,” Abry said, turning the page before Cora was done with it. “Maybe we can get in there someday.”

  The next page was about Drakes, fierce even in ink. Also illegal to own, according to the page. The drakes had forked tails with spikes for fighting and ridges down their backs. Cora carefully noted the differences in color and body shape. She prayed that whatever Cricket was, it wasn’t a prohibited variety. What would she even do if owning him was against the law?

  There were pages of alternate colors for more common dragons, the rare purple, spotted, and striped varieties of racers, cat-sized, and even mayflies, but no muddy-brown, crow-sized dragons with four legs, two wings, and horn-like ears.

  Abry flipped the page and stopped. She squinted at the illustration, then at Cricket. “The body shape is right, but … the coloring looks different.”

  Cora leaned closer. Yes, four legs, two wings, and the to-scale drawing seemed to suggest it would grow to about the length of a cat-sized dragon while being considerably less stocky. But instead of muddy-brown, this dragon looked like polished dark wood.

  “Nurse dragon?” She scrunched up her eyebrows. “What does that mean and why weren’t they in the other books?”

  “Because of this.” Abry pointed to the lower right hand corner of the book where a table of “quick facts” listed the nurse dragon’s average size, dietary needs, and color-range. At the bottom of this table were two words in bold print: Status, Extinct.

  “Extinct?” Cora blinked at the words. Dragons were extinct in the wild, she knew that, but the Dragon Regulatory Agency and its approved breeders had worked hard to preserve all the existing varieties. It was a point of pride, often mentioned in their flyers.

  “Apparently they were always rare and attempts to hatch them in captivity have failed. The last reported sighting was, gee-golly, 78 years ago.”

  Cora glanced at the book-bag which sat silently on the table beside her. What sort of dragon is a nurse dragon?

  “Since the domestication of dragons, the nurse dragon’s vital role is now fulfilled by human keepers in Dragon Regulatory Agency approved Class A Breeding Facilities.” Abry’s mouth pinched, first on the right side, then on the left. “What vital role?” She stooped so close over the book, she looked like she was sniffing the words as she read them. “Oh Cor …” her voice escaped in a reverent whisper. “Nurse dragons were the keepers of dragon eggs. Their mysterious care was said to determine the variety of dragon each egg would produce, able to alter the egg up until the date of hatching. Most scientists listed them third, after queens and drakes, in importance for the survival of a dragon colony.”

  She slumped back in her chair and blew her hair out of her eyes with a loud exhale.

  Cora stared at the book. “So he did … he did make the egg a striker. Is it … illegal to own him?”

  “No, I don’t see anywhere where it says that. I mean, he’s supposed to be extinct and impossible to hatch in captivity. It isn’t that we aren’t allowed to have one. According to this book, he simply shouldn’t exist.” Someone coughed a few rows over, and both girls stiffened.

  “We should go,” Cora whispered.

  “Let me copy down the page. I don’t want to miss something important.” Abry got out her pencil and notebook.

  Cora stationed herself a few feet away where she could see down the rows of shelves. Other than the librarian at her desk and an old man with his
nose in a periodical, they appeared to be alone.

  “I’m done,” Abry said after what felt like hours. “Let’s get home. I want to talk to Mom.”

  Chapter Ten

  Legal vs Moral

  Mrs. Stevenson tilted her head to one side, her mouth pinched identically to her daughters. On her desk, Cricket stretched out his wings and flapped them a few times, then settled down, staring right back at her.

  “You’re sure he’s one of these ‘nurse dragons’?” Mrs. Stevenson frowned.

  “We think so.” Abry nodded. “I took notes.” She handed her mother the paper.

  Mrs. Stevenson exhaled. “While I don’t specialize in dragon law, it’s pretty straight forward. They can’t ban the ownership of something that technically doesn’t exist. However, the Dragon Regulatory Agency doesn’t need an excuse to make more laws. They’ve given monopolies on dragon breeding to two major companies, one controlling the racers and the other the pets. It’s in the interests of those companies to make sure no one else can produce dragons.”

  “But we aren’t breeding dragons, just hatching them. We’re going to be buying the eggs from the Emporium and everything,” Abry said.

  “I know, and I think you’re well within your rights. However, as your attorney,” Mrs. Stevenson’s eyes twinkled, “I advise you to keep Cricket’s role in your business a secret and to try not to draw much attention to yourself.”

  “He’s our proprietary trade secret.” Abry nodded.

  “Of course.” Mrs. Stevenson beamed at her daughter. “And you, Cora? Is your father all right with this venture?”

  Cora shifted from foot to foot. “He doesn’t know yet.”

  “You need to tell him. There is some risk involved, from a legal standpoint. The Algernon and Braxton Corporations protect their dragon breeding licenses with an army of lawyers, though I can’t see them taking two children to court.” Mrs. Stevenson chewed her bottom lip.

  “It doesn’t seem fair that only two companies can breed dragons,” Cora said.

  “Well, fair or not, that’s the law, and there is some sense behind it. If everyone could own a dragon queen, imagine how many dragons there would be?” Mrs. Stevenson shuffled some papers. “One thing I learned early on is that the law isn’t always about what is right or wrong, simply about what is legal or illegal. Many things that are legal to do are still wrong to do … and many things that may not be wrong, in that even my husband wouldn’t call them a sin, might be illegal. That’s why people have consciences, not just laws, but that’s more the reverend’s department than mine.” She smiled.

  “My dad has a lot of opinions about right and wrong, too.” Cora sniffed.

  Mrs. Stevenson laughed. “Everyone does, dear. You need to promise me you'll talk to him before you take this thing any further, though.”

  “I will.” Cora nodded.

  ***

  Cora hesitated outside the door to their cottage. She could tell from the light seeping through the windows that Dad was inside. How was she going to talk to him about this? How could she make him understand how important this was to her? To Abry? To Cricket even?

  Abry had kept the eggs, for fear of Cricket getting to them before they were ready to begin. She promised to bring them over tomorrow, so they could get started … If it was okay with Dad.

  Cora held her breath and said a quick prayer, something she usually only did at meal times. “Please God, let him let me do this. You sent me Cricket for a reason. Let him see that.”

  She pushed open the door. The smell of pea soup rose to meet her, and her stomach grumbled. Cricket launched from her shoulder and alighted on the edge of a soup bowl in front of Dad. Dad laughed and pushed him back.

  “Aren’t you feeding him?” He smiled.

  “Yes, but he’s always hungry.” Cora pushed the door shut behind her and shuffled over to the table. Their house was only two rooms and a loft. An old, potbelly stove glowed in the front room, warming up their table, three chairs, and a china hutch that had belonged to Dad’s grandma.

  A ladder led up to the loft where Cora slept, and below Cora's loft lay Dad's tiny bedroom. Scraggles rested in front of the stove. He opened one eye when Cora entered, then shut it again.

  Another bowl of soup sat across from her father, along with the heel of a loaf of bread.

  “It’s probably cold. I didn’t know when you would be back from Abry’s,” he said.

  She sat and took a spoonful. It was lukewarm, but that just allowed her to eat it faster.

  “So have you forgiven Cricket?” He pointed with his spoon at the dragon who had attacked her bread and was gnawing on it for dear life. She ripped off the chewed bits and dipped the rest in her soup.

  “He actually … that’s kind of what I need to talk to you about. Abry came to see me yesterday …”

  The whole story tumbled out, about the striker and selling it to Parker, about their trip to buy more eggs and what they’d discovered at the library, and about what Mrs. Stevenson had said about the law. Her father sat, gripping his spoon, and staring at Cricket.

  “She doesn’t think it's illegal, and she’s a lawyer. She knows,” Cora concluded.

  Cricket swallowed the last piece of bread and belched. A ring of smoke floated from his beak towards the ceiling.

  “Well, it may not be illegal, but is it right? Do you know what life is like for dragons in those breeding factories? They never get to fly free. They live under red lights so the factory owners can keep the eggs from hatching too early … it’s not natural.”

  “But Cricket is natural. According to the book this is what he’s meant to do. He’s a nurse dragon, an egg keeper. Not letting him do that would be like not letting him fly!” Cora had rehearsed this speech over and over in her head on the way home.

  Dad raised his eyebrows. “And how do you know that? If you profit off this system, are you any better than those who lock the queens in their cages and steal their eggs?”

  “They’re going to sell the eggs whether or not we buy them. And if we buy them and make strikers and sparkers, kids will give us money instead of the big, evil companies.” She leaned forward.

  Cricket walked across the table, eyeing Dad’s soup. Dad patted the tiny dragon’s forehead.

  “I don’t know, Cor. It just doesn’t seem right …”

  “We can put aside some of the money we make to help pay for things we need. Abry’s mom said she can use hers to start a college fund!” Cora really didn’t want to go to college, but she’d seen the way Mrs. Stevenson had reacted to the words “college fund” and wondered if it were some sort of magical “parent charming” phrase. Dad sat up a little straighter.

  “You can’t possibly make enough to …” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You need to keep perspective. If you are hurting the dragons at all, I want you to stop.”

  “I’d never hurt dragons.” Cora frowned. How could he even think that? She adored dragons. She wanted to spend every moment with them. Of course she’d never hurt a dragon.

  Chapter Eleven

  Egg Tending

  Cora stared at the box in Abry’s hands. Perched on her shoulder, Cricket gave an inquisitive “chirp.”

  “Are we ready?” Abry asked. “Did you set up the nest?”

  Cora nodded and led Abry into her work space. She had moved all her mayflies around until she had a free Terrarium. She’d lined the bottom of this with a slab of sod, cut from a back portion of the yard, the green grass still alive and thriving. It looked clean and cozy. Slipping the lid of the terrarium all the way off, she held her breath as Abry opened the box and unwrapped the first egg from its royal blue foil. Cricket launched into the air. He fluttered about Cora like a panicked hummingbird.

  “Calm him down.” Abry ducked beneath the dragon’s flicking tail. “He’s going to make me drop an egg.”

  Cora caught Cricket between her hands and held his flickering wings to his sides. He chirped madly.

  Abry laid the f
irst egg carefully in the green grass, then took the second from the box. “With the scorcher he only had to really burn it a little bit. Do you think it will be that quick with all of them?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll still have to wait three or four days to see what we get.” Cora shrugged. She tried to appear nonchalant, but her heart was thumping in time to Cricket’s vibrating tail. How will I survive three whole days?

  Abry positioned the eggs in a row, then reached down and straightened one that leaned to the side.

  “They don’t need to be perfect. They’re eggs. Not picture frames.” Cora rolled her eyes.

  Abry’s nose wrinkled. “It doesn’t hurt to be neat.”

  “Well, hurry up. Cricket’s scratching up my hands.” Cora squeezed the dragon until he stopped twitching, but she could still feel his tiny pulse through his ribs. “He really wants to get at those eggs.”

  Abry stepped back and put her hands on her hips. “Nifty. Okay. Let him at it.”

  Cora opened her hands.

  Cricket shot across the room and dove into the tank. He approached the first egg and rubbed his face against it, his chirp changing into a low coo. After a moment of egg cuddling, he moved down the line, inspecting and admiring each egg in turn.

  “He really likes eggs.” Abry raised her eyebrows.

  “Shh, don’t disturb him.” Cora put her finger over her lips.

  Reaching the end of the line, Cricket huffed. He then picked up the nearest egg in his back talons and flew off with it, his flight dipping every so often from the weight.

  “Oh no! He’ll drop it!” Abry clapped her hands over her mouth. She darted towards Cricket, but Cora grabbed her arm.

  “Let’s see what he does.”

  Cricket soared to the window sill and placed the egg in a beam of sunlight. He circled it a few times, then swooped down and grabbed the remnants of the shiny foil from the egg-wrapping. He gathered these up, flew back to the egg, and placed them around it, arranging the foil so that it reflected the sunlight onto the egg. He made several more trips before returning to the terrarium and inspecting the next egg.