Dragon Slayers

by Kristin D. Van Risseghem

  Okay, that sounds plausible. Something doesn’t add in to the story, though. Staten and Manny left prior to them knowing that McQueen was injured or even needed help. Plus, that weird looking arrow.

  I stare out to the water. Bronx is right; it’s soothing here. “Do you know what’s happening to me?” I ask. “Why my magic is more potent than others in my Level?”

  “I have a suspicion, yes.” He doesn’t look at me and busies his hands, using them on my calf muscles. “I know what it’s like being alone. At one point in my life, I was. But then I found Manny, Staten, and McQueen. In a way, they saved me. We were all born and raised the same, as I’m sure your parents did with you.” He stops massaging my legs. “Did you ever feel that you didn’t really belong at the school? Maybe when everyone left you alone, you questioned why you stayed? I’m sure you thought about quitting. What if, and just humor me for a bit, what if everything your parents ever told you about who you are was wrong? What if you were born to do something else with your life?”

  Where is he going with this? Yes, I’ve felt alone and that I shouldn’t have enrolled at York. My parents never pressured me to coming here. But they didn’t exactly say that I could stay at my private high school, either.

  Doesn’t everyone think that they were born to do something special, exciting, and different? Be the first woman president. The first to graduate college. The first to have that dream job.

  “Have you ever wondered why your name is Brooklyn, and when you came to York Academy, you met three other guys who shared the other borough names? And then you met another random stranger who also happens to have a similar borough name? I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we are all here at this time and place. Some may even say that it’s predetermined. By fate? Destiny?” He lowers my legs to the ground and scoots next to me. “We’ve been waiting for you to come into our lives. Our parents sent us to become dragon slayers. To learn everything we can about the history, technology, mission tactics ... all of it.”

  Yes, that’s what most people want to learn. It’s why they enroll. And, they get to kill dragons.

  He cocks his head listening to a sound and holds up a hand, silencing me.

  “What are they doing out here?” he mumbles. Then he grabs my hand and drags me under a shelter. “Stay quiet. I don’t have any weapons.” He scans my body. “And you don’t either, I assume, under that tight dress?”

  I shake my head.

  What does he think is coming?

  Then the cries of many beasts fill the air. Whooshing sounds join in above their calls. The sky darkens as bodies of animals move across the moon and block the stars. Wings take shape as their screams become louder.

  “Brooklyn.” Bronx shakes me. “No matter what happens tonight, I’ll keep you safe. And know that I never lied to you.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “Dragons are coming. From the sounds of it, most of the pride will be here in a few minutes.”

  “Say what? Why? Don’t we need to get back to the school and get the others?”

  “We don’t have enough time to go back. Besides, Level Two is out of commission since they’ve been drinking. I’m not sure how many are left from Level Three.”

  “But this is your chance to kill them and graduate.”

  “I know, but sometimes it’s not about graduating. It’s about the learning.”

  Okay, that’s a weird thing to say. Who doesn’t want to graduate and become a dragon slayer? Isn’t that what these three years have been training him to do?

  “Brooklyn, do you trust me?” Bronx kisses my lips quickly and then sighs. “I hope you do, and I hope I’m right about you.”

  A giant black dragon lands on the cobbled path, near the bench we were sitting on. It’s jade eyes blink at me. A white line stretches under its wing, revealing it was injured at one time. The animal lowers its head and keeps its gaze on me and Bronx.

  Another dragon, this one is blue, swoops down and stands on its hind legs, then settles on the ground. Tucking its wings along its back, it curls the deadly tail around itself.

  More dragons descend in the area. All colors of the rainbow are represented: reds, blues, greens, and even purples. Their throats rumble, and high-pitched screeches respond. It must be a communication of sorts.

  My magic is pulled to the surface of my skin. It’s reacting to the many animals around us.

  It’s just Bronx and me and them. None of them make any sign of approaching us. In fact, they don’t seem to be threatening at all. What could two slayers do to a pride of dragons?

  “Trust me,” Bronx whispers and then leads me out from under the shelter toward the dragon with the jade eyes. “This is the same one who held me in his grasp the other day, when you fired your distraction spell at him.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The eyes. And you see that scar under his wing? I think you already know what I’m going to say about it.”

  I slowly nod.

  Deep down, I know who it is. Things are clicking into place. But I still don’t know the why and how. And what this has to do with me.

  “It’s McQueen,” I say.

  Before I can ask more questions, fast footsteps are getting louder and coming toward us. The dragons ascend into the air a few at a time to allow their massive wings room to flap.

  Running down the hill are Level Three students. Not all of them, but a few, and they are brandishing weapons. They must have been out on patrol, and someone radioed in the targets.

  Bronx takes off, and I follow him back under the shelter. His mouth says nothing as his green eyes plead with mine to keep quiet. He shakes his head to further make his point.

  By the time the Third Years are circling around us, a few dragons are still left on the pier. Most have taken to the skies, but with so many of them it took a while for them to fly away. Thankfully, McQueen is not one of them. Those few who are left are in danger.

  These students want to graduate from York, and they mean business. With raised javelins, crossbows, and guns, they fire at the remaining animals. Most hit their marks. After all, they are Level Three students and on the verge of making this their career.

  Nets are flung high and land on top of a red dragon. It’s much smaller than the others. Smaller than the one I killed.

  Oh, boroughs. I killed a dragon. I could have killed McQueen.

  This poor red animal is going to die tonight. The realization hits me like a brick into my chest. I can barely breath. I think I’m going to faint. My body sways.

  Bronx notices my harsh breathing and wraps his arm around my waist. “There isn’t anything we can do,” he says, suggesting he knows my thoughts. “Just let it play out. This is the toughest part. We don’t have any weapons, so they won’t expect us to participate.”

  I go pale. How can they do this? Can I let it happen?

  Is this what Bronx meant by “what if everything we know is wrong?”

  I think I’m going to be sick. I can’t watch. Strong arms spin me around, so I don’t have to look. I bury my head into Bronx’s neck. His hands hold me tight against him.

  “It’ll be okay. Just get through this. I’m here. I won’t let you go.”

  My body shakes as the wails of the dragon pierce directly into my soul. I’ll forever remember this night and the sound of this creature dying.

  The Level Three leader shouts orders. The dragon is now fully trapped under the net, and they are advancing. The soft thuds of arrows and spears let me know that the manmade weapons are torturing the dragon’s beautiful red body and causing his slow death.

  A long screech followed by a fireball is cast into the wind. The heat from the dragon’s breath can be felt from where we’re standing. I shudder as the voice of the animal slowly gets quieter until there is only heavy breathing.

  He can’t be alone during his final moments. Finding my strength and will power, I turn my head and meet the dragon’s red eyes. He blinks at me. I gulp, knowing this is
his final breath.

  Titanium tipped javelins sink into his body, and the last one is a direct hit into his eye.

  “I’m with you, my friend.” He can’t hear me, but I say it to him in my mind anyway.

  Smoke billows from his nose as his jaw closes for the last time.

  Joyous yells from the students erupt. It’s not a happy moment for me or for Bronx. Tears stream down my face. I try to sniff back the water works. It’s no use. I return my head back into the safety of Bronx’s body. He rubs his hands up and down my back, quietly whispering terms of endearments. They don’t work.

  I look up at him. He takes his thumb and wipes under my eyes. His finger comes away black. I’m glad I don’t have a mirror to see my face. It’s hideous with what I’m sure is black trails from the layers of kohl and mascara. But I don’t care. That’s not what’s important right now. What is ... a dragon is dead.

  We don’t congratulate anyone.

  We don’t even acknowledge them.

  I stagger to get my shoes and slip them on my feet. Bronx and I walk back, his arm tightly wrapped around my shoulders. My head hangs low, and I replay the dragon’s last moment. It’s going to make me have nightmares.

  The eight-block walk is in silence. There is nothing to say. And anything we do just doesn’t matter.

  A dragon is dead, and I didn’t do a damn thing about it.

  Once we get to the school grounds, Bronx shepherds me to my room. I fumble with the keys, and finally he takes them from my shaky hands and unlocks the door. Gently, he leads me inside, then kicks the door shut. Taking a towel from the back of the door, he wets it from the faucet and wipes my makeup off. Then he ushers me to bed. Dropping to the floor, he removes my shoes. Using the back of the towel, he cleans my feet. No lights are turned on and for a moment, I wonder how he can see where things are. But I just don’t care.

  He doesn’t bother to undress me but instead folds back the covers, pushing my body down. Without saying a word, he removes his shoes and shirt and slips into bed with me. Tucking me against his side, he tells me to sleep. That he’ll chase away the bad dreams.

  How does he know that?

  I wake to Bronx still at my side. My leg is lying over his, and my red dress has crept up to my butt some time during the night. His arm embraces my shoulders while his other arm is behind his head. My fingers trace along his collarbone.

  Dried tears make my face feel tight. The previous night slams back into my thoughts. I shudder, and Bronx pulls me closer.

  “Are you up for talking about it yet?” Bronx’s deep voice is just above a whisper.

  Am I ready? In my mind, I picture that last javelin sailing through the air and landing in the red dragon’s eye. I feel his magic fade into nothing as he breathes his last breath. No, I’m not ready to say anything. If I open my mouth and vocalize my thoughts, I’ll start crying again, and I don’t know if I’ll stop.

  I shake my head.

  “When you’re ready, I’m here,” he says. After laying a light kiss on my forehead, he turns his body to face mine. His hand trails down my side. I tense, wondering what he’s doing. But then he tugs the hem of the dress and pulls it down to cover my thigh. Then lays his hand on my waist.

  It’s a sweet gesture that I can’t help notice. He cares for me. And I for him.

  We’re face to face. His eyes never waver from mine. I can’t say that mine don’t wander and when they return to lock on his, he’s smirking.

  I swallow.

  Then I lean in and close the small distance between us with my mouth. I briefly think about my morning breath. The kiss is light and delicate. And then it’s not. And all thoughts about bad breath are out the window.

  Bronx’s grip on my waist tightens as his free hand cups my cheek and then moves into my hair. It’s still braided, so he can’t run his fingers through it. They creep down my neck and to run along my spine. He presses his leg between mine.

  Our lips press together as his tongue makes its way into my mouth.

  My hand roams over his smooth chest and up into his soft hair. Then it follows along his back muscles, my other hand still tangled in his locks.

  Heat builds between us. He flips my body on top of his, my dress riding up to my hips. I straddle his legs. We never break our kiss. His hands remain locked around my waist.

  I nuzzle his neck as he plants kisses down to my shoulder. Our breaths come faster. When I gaze into his eyes, they are churning with desire. I wonder if my own look like when chocolate is added to milk.

  I lean my head down to touch his. I can’t ... I can’t continue down this path. As much as I know he wants me to, it’s not the right time. We can’t do this while my emotions are running wild, and I still need answers from him.

  He takes my cue and steadies his breathing. His fingers tug down my dress, but I don’t let him move. I want to stay in his arms forever. Instead, his arms lock across my waist, and he holds me tight. I give him a peck on his cheek and then lay my head on his chest.

  We stay in that pose for a moment until Bronx turns his head toward my nightstand. His hand swipes his phone screen and checks the time. It’s mid-morning. Then he grabs the device and sends a text.

  “I think my brothers should be here when you ask the rest of your questions.”

  I nod and lift myself off him. My feet are sore, but nothing some lotion and maybe another massage can’t fix. I grab a towel and a change of clothes. Bronx watches me and goes back to his phone to read an incoming text, probably from one of his brothers. Standing in front of the mirror, I unbind my hair and start removing the pins. Bronx sidles up behind me and pulls some pins, too. I smile at him in the mirror.

  Opening the door, I walk to the showers.

  Am I ready for this? Soon I’ll have all the answers I need. Do I really want to know? I can’t go back ever to being ignorant about things.

  After the quick scrub down, I return to my room to find Staten and Manny sitting on the bed. Bronx has put on his shirt. I assume that Staten will take the lead. He’s the oldest, not by much, but he seems to always take charge and the others listen.

  I close the door and lock it in case Noelle decides to stop by and regal her night with Sax to me. Six eyes watch me walk toward them. Manny stands and allows me to sit on the bed, sandwiched between his brothers. He drags a chair to sit in front of us and straddles it, casually laying his arms on the back.

  “Bronx told us what happened last night,” Staten says, turning his body to face me. Points for me knowing that Staten will be the first to speak. “We’re just glad you’re okay, and that you didn’t get hurt. The dragons shouldn’t have been out last night, let alone bringing the pride out. But they are curious about you. Like we are.”

  Bronx takes hold of my hand and runs a finger along my thumb, a relaxing motion I’ve come to know and expect.

  “When I first laid eyes on you,” Manny says. “I knew there was something extra special about you. It’s why we were drawn to you. There is a reason that we are named after the five boroughs. You share that with us.”

  “I’ve seen your magic the first day you arrived, Brooklyn,” Staten says. “You have the same power that I have, probably more. Only time and training will tell exactly how much.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask.

  “It means, Sweetheart,” Bronx says. “That you will be a very powerful magic user. We’ve never seen anyone with as much potential as you have. It’s been centuries since anyone has matched yours.”

  “Okay, but what does this all mean for me exactly?”

  The brothers glance at each other and then at any place but at me. Manny is staring at a spot on the floor. Bronx is looking at our joined hands. And Staten, he’s examining his own hands. His flame is at his fingertips as he moves his hands around, the magic dancing to his will.

  “It means that you aren’t a dragon slayer, Brooklyn,” Staten says. “Yes, you took the Kill Shot and became one of us. But we are more than that. You are
more like us than you realize.” He turns my shoulders, so I am looking at him. “We are Level Three and yes, someday we will graduate, but we need you to continue where we leave off. We were sent here to infiltrate the Academy, to learn their ways and report back to our leaders.”

  “Why would the Slayer Council want you to do that?” I ask. “Are you guys on a secret mission?”

  “Yes, in a way. We don’t take our findings to that Council. We have our own.”

  “Then who do you report to?”

  “To the Dragon Council.”

  Wait a minute. He said dragon council, right? There is one? And how do they know about it?

  “Brooklyn.” Manny takes my other hand. “We are dragons. And we think you are one, too.”

  Holy five boroughs.

  My jaw drops, and my eyes widen.

  This totally makes sense now. How the boys are in places before the rest of their teams. Why they helped McQueen. I bet they staged that last botched mission. It’s also why the dragons didn’t hurt me tonight. Could they have been drawn to my magic? If it’s as potent as Staten thinks it is, did I call them to me? Enough to come out of hiding and bring the pride?

  No wonder the guilt weighs heavily on my soul. I killed two of my own brothers. That’s to say if I believe what Staten is saying. A small part of me has known that something was off. Me being here at this school, meeting these boys, and having strange events go on with the dragons. My magic came almost instant, while the academics and training will take longer to master, but the more I use my magic, it won’t be the raw, uncontrolled flames.

  “What do I need to do?” I ask.

  I’m no kin killer. I won’t be a dragon slayer. Infiltrate ... continue with missions ... kill dragons? No, sabotage missions and save as many dragons as I can without blowing my cover.

  I’m a Dragon Protector.

  The end of Book One

  Continue to read Brooklyn’s adventure in the second installment: Dragon Wars.

  Chapter One