by Lucia Ashta
“Ew,” I said, torn between terror and disgust. “That’s gross.”
Seemingly immune to my complaints, the dragon just looked at me.
Holy crap. The dragon is looking at me. Looking. At me. Invisible girl.
When the dragon licked me again, I didn’t complain. I stared back.
What the hell was going on? Was I dreaming? I pinched myself hard, and I felt it. I wasn’t dreaming—or was I dreaming of pinching myself and hurting? It was impossible to tell, just as it should have been impossible for this dragon to see me.
I stared, and the dragon stared. If the dragon had been a dog, there would have been lots more licking and tail wagging. I scooted back from the edge and a few feet toward the dragon, who moved with me.
“All dragons are supposed to be dangerous, but you’re not like other dragons, are you?” I asked.
Where the dragons I’d seen had eyes that glowed red in the sunlight, this dragon’s eyes were deep and dark.
“You’re smaller than most dragons.” In fact, the dragon was very much smaller than any dragon I’d seen or heard about. Dean had said that mother dragons would be having young this year. “Have you lost your mother?”
I reached for the little dragon. This time, she jumped back. Wariness hooded her large eyes.
My eyes did a fast sweep over her body. Not only was she significantly smaller than most dragons, she was also rounder, plumper. Not much like the hunting and killing machines that dragons were supposed to be.
“Oh no,” I gasped. “You’re hurt!” I reached for gashes in her side and hind leg. She retreated again, but not as far. I put both hands up. “Shh, it’s all right. I promise I won’t hurt you, but you need to let me help you.” Even as I said the words, I wondered if they were absurd. After all, here was a dragon—granted, a strange-looking dragon, but a dragon no less. What could I do to help such a beast, even if she was a little beast?
I had no idea, but I had to try. I didn’t advance, but smiled at the dragon, who continued to appear suspicious of my approach.
Even though the dragon wasn’t going to answer, I imagined my conversation might soothe the creature—or maybe it was just keeping me from freaking out. “How did I not notice your wounds before? They’re pretty big, you poor thing. Oh, no. You have another cut on the back of your neck.” I brought a hand to my chest. “And your tail has been nearly severed.” The words caught in my throat.
I reached a hand forward and touched the creature. This time, she let a second pass before backing away from my touch.
“You need to let me help you. You’re really hurt.” I reached my hand toward the dragon—a female, I decided conclusively—more slowly this time. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s all right. I only want to help.”
When I touched my hand to her again, I thought she’d bolt. In the end, she stayed, and when I didn’t hurt her, she finally leaned into my touch. “You poor girl, this must hurt like crazy. What happened to you? Dragons don’t usually show up this far down, and they aren’t often hurt.” Even so, I was formulating a theory, and I was afraid I might be right.
I stood to better examine the dragon, but when I did, I towered over her, and she started retreating. Immediately, I sat back down. “I don’t mean to intimidate you.” I chortled. “Trust me, I really don’t. I don’t intimidate a thing. I’m the one who’s always running for my life, not the other way around.”
I ran a soothing hand against the little dragon’s back. She pushed into my caress. “Your scales aren’t that thick, are they, girl? Is that because you’re a baby? You know, it’d be really nice if you could tell me what’s going on. But... you’re not going to. Because you’re a dragon, and dragons don’t talk. But you don’t mind if I talk, do you?” It wasn’t much different than talking to myself, and it was nice to have company.
This little dragon could see as only Rane did, maybe the creature could even see more. She seemed to be following every one of my movements as if I were a normal human. Not even my twin could do that. And I didn’t think dragons could see me. The violet dragon that had almost snacked on Dram hadn’t seen me. If the dragon had, I’d be hanging out in a digestive track, or worse, coming out the end of it.
“We need to get your wounds cleaned and treated. How are we going to do that? It’s not like I can stride into the village with an injured dragon. Actually, I could if I weren’t invisible. You see, my people are dragon protectors, so they won’t hurt you; they’ll just hurt me.”
The dragon rubbed her truncated snout against my shoulder and neck. I laughed. “Hey, that tickles. Does it worry you that someone might hurt me?”
She rubbed against me again. I brought a hand to her neck, the uninjured side. “Don’t worry, I won’t let them. I’ve hidden all my life. I don’t take unnecessary risks.” But I had. I shook the thought away. “Is there somewhere I should take you? Is there a mama looking for you?”
The dragon nearly plopped herself in my lap. I umphed at the weight, she whimpered in pain, and stood back up.
“It’s as I thought,” I said, heaviness settling over my heart. “You have no one.”
The dragon looked me in the eyes, and I was certain she understood me. I’d never heard that dragons could communicate with humans, but this one could. I felt it. “Did your mother reject you because you were different from other dragons? Because you’re smaller?”
If a dragon could nod, this one did.
“Don’t worry, little one. I’ll take care of you, I promise.” It was a promise I was determined to keep, even if I had no idea how I’d manage it. This little dragon had no more fault in being born the way she was than I did. Her injuries told a morbid tale, one that didn’t entirely surprise me. The dragons were the fiercest creatures alive. They wouldn’t accept weakness, not even in their own offspring.
This little, plump dragon had escaped execution. Either her mother had tried to kill her and she’d managed to flee, or her mother had thrown her off the edge of a cliff before she learned to fly and she’d somehow managed to survive the fall. Whatever the exact story, it was something like I was imagining. The sad feeling in my heart affirmed it. The dragons had cast her out of the world into which she’d been born.
“You’re with me now, okay? I’m not going to let any more harm come to you. I’m going to help you heal and gain strength. I’m going to help you figure this out. You can count on me. No matter what, I won’t abandon you.”
Her eyes were big, round, and shiny black, and some of the friendliest I’d ever seen.
“We’re going to get along just fine. I’ll fix you up and then—” And then what, Anira? There was only one place this little dragon could go, and it was a place I couldn’t follow. “Well, you can’t go back to your family, they’ll just hurt you again, but you could go to my village. The Dragon Force will keep you safe.”
The dragon nudged her snout into my side. “No,” I said, thinking I understood what she was asking. “I can’t go with you to the village. I can only help you get better and then my people will take care of you.” I’d just met the little one, and already I felt as if I were losing a friend. That’s what happened when you didn’t have friends.
“Come on,” I said, standing slowly so as not to startle her. “We don’t have healing wands in our village. The last of them we brought with us from Origins finally broke ages ago, but we have herbs and tinctures that work well. They’ll set you right.” I started walking, but the dragon didn’t follow.
I turned. “Come with me.” I smiled again, and it seemed as if all she’d been waiting for was my smile. “I’m going to give you loving until you’re healed.” I had no good plan, but it was turning out to be a day for not caring about trouble.
“My name’s Anira,” I called over my shoulder. The dragon trailed behind me. “There are only a handful of people who’re aware I exist: my mother, sister, brother, and the midwife who delivered me. My father and older brother are dead, so that’s it. My brother is actually my twin, and he’s the only on
e who can see me, and he can’t always see me well. How come you can see me?”
I realized it was foolish, but I still waited for a response. After an existence that was supposed to be impossible, with more questions than answers, a single explanation would have been life altering. Alas, none came from the petite injured dragon, who followed me across the open rock clearing, back toward the trees.
“What do you say, should we give you a name? If your people—” Was it strange that I was talking to a dragon as if she were a person? Probably. But I was used to strange. I was strange. I corrected myself. “If your kind tried to get rid of you, then I’m going to guess they didn’t bother giving you a name. How about Fire or Flame or Air? No, those are too strong for someone as sweet as you. Maybe Wind or Snow or Winter? Tell me what you like. This is going to be your name, not mine. We don’t want someone calling you something terrible like Runt just because you were the runt of the litter. So pick something good before someone else tries to name you.”
We walked while I waited. “No good ideas? Okay, how about Rose then? I’ve always liked the name Rose. It’s simple yet elegant. Each rose is unique, and you’re certainly unique. Roses grow and flourish in the unlikeliest of places. Even in the middle of the snow, every once in a while a rose will shoot through. And roses have thorns, besides, which means you’ll be protected and, well, roses are beautiful, just as I think you are, no matter what the mean dragons think. But what do you think? Are you a Rose?”
From the way my little dragon friend bunched up her snout in what looked like a dragon smile, and the way her eyes sparkled, she was most definitely a Rose. Once more, she looked as happy as she had when she scared the crap out of me with that first lick to my face.
I had no idea how my day had taken so many bizarre turns. I’d exposed my secret and found a dragon. Still, I didn’t regret a thing.
“Rose. Rosie,” I said, trying the name out. “You know what, Rosie? I think you and I are going to be the best of friends.”
From the look on Rose’s plump dragon face, she thought so too.
11
“Are you out of your mind, Anira?” my normally gentle mother said. “You thought our lives weren’t dangerous enough without adding a dragon to the equation?” She was whisper yelling, but within the confines of our home, it was plenty loud.
I pulled Rose closer to me at the hearth. “What was I supposed to do? Just leave her there to die, all alone?”
“That would have been the smart thing.”
I leaned in and whispered to Rose. “She doesn’t really mean that, she just thinks she does now because she’s angry.”
“I do too mean it, don’t deign to tell me what I do and don’t mean, young lady. You can’t bring a dragon into our home.”
“But I had no place else to take her. I need to treat her wounds, and she needs time to heal. Our house is on the edge of the village, far away from prying ears and eyes. Isn’t that what you always tell me? That our home is removed from the village so that we can have the privacy to do as we want within our space?”
“As you well know, Anira, we haven’t isolated ourselves because it’s fun. We did it because if not people are sure to discover and kill you. Do you understand the gravity of that?”
“Of course I understand,” I snapped. “I live with it every blasted day. While you’re all out doing your thing, getting to live, I’m hiding. Why? Oh that’s right, because I’m always hiding. Because that’s all I get to do. I don’t get to live, I get to hide. Lucky me.”
Mother moved her jaw side to side. She looked angry, disappointed, and sad—terribly sad—all at once.
“I’m sorry, Ma, I didn’t mean it. I know you sacrifice a lot for me. I know you worry about me all the time.”
“I do. All the damn time.”
Mother never said ‘damn.’ I didn’t dare say anything else.
“I worry not just about you, but your brother and sister, and even Marie. Because if you were caught, they’d kill you for sure, but who knows what they’d do to the rest of us?”
I understood what she was saying, I really did. I understood it wasn’t just about me, and that my condition put everyone who knew about me in danger as well. But I couldn’t help that it stung that she would mention the plight of everyone else along with mine, as if they weren’t vastly different. At least everyone else got to live. They got to be seen, have friends, join the Dragon Force, something I’d dreamed of since I was old enough to realize where Father went every morning.
I really didn’t want to cry, but I couldn’t stop the tears from welling in my eyes. At least no one there, beyond perhaps Rose, would notice. My mother couldn’t even see her own daughter. “I understand,” I said, working hard to keep the hurt from my voice.
“It’s not just your own life that you endanger when you do insane things like bring a dragon into our home.”
Good thing she doesn’t know I talked with Dean and pretended to be a dragon spirit.
“You endanger all of us,” she continued, “and you make it a thousand times harder to protect you.”
I stood. “Fine, I’ll go.” Rose was the only one to look straight at me when I said it.
“What do you mean, you’ll go? You mean you’ll take the dragon back where you found her and leave her there?”
I’d never had to stand up to Mother before. Sure, I made a fuss about things off and on and made my wishes clear, but never before had I been prepared to go my own way over a disagreement. My voice was measured, but I meant every word. “I will not leave Rosie where I found her, alone and almost certainly condemned for her small size and odd shape. She’ll die out there, as I have no doubt was the intention. I might not have gotten to choose much about my life, but I won’t abandon a creature who’s suffering and condemned to a similar fate as mine. If anything, my life experience will serve to help her.”
“Your ‘life experience?’ Anira, I’m nearly three-hundred years old. You’re not even seventeen yet. You’re barely coming into womanhood.”
“That may be so, but I have enough experience to tell right from wrong. I’m doing this. I’m helping Rosie. There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind. I might have only sixteen years of experience on this planet, but I’m a seasoned expert in what it’s like to live when no one wants you to.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Maybe not, but it’s what it feels like. I’ve been a burden to everyone in this family since I was born. I won’t expose you to more danger by bringing Rosie into the home, but I won’t abandon her. I won’t.”
Mom tried to stare at me, and more or less succeeded. Her kind but weary eyes held a spot a foot away from my head. I saw the moment when resignation arrived, and she realized she had to change tactics. “I see that this... creature is important to you. We’ll help her, but then she has to go.”
“Fine,” I said, knowing full well that when she went, I’d go too.
“We can take her to Chieftain Pumpoo. He’ll assign someone to take care of her.”
“No!” I said, then immediately lowered my voice. “Not Pumpoo.”
“Why not? He’s our chieftain, it’s the logical option.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Anira! You can’t say that!”
“Why not? Because he’ll execute me for my treasonous remarks?” I laughed a bitter laugh. “I don’t trust him, and I won’t allow Rosie to go to him. I mean it.” I was making up for all the years I hadn’t had much reason to stand my ground.
“So what do you suggest we do with her?” Rane, who stood watching, asked.
“If she has to go to someone in the tribe, then let it be Dean.”
“Dean? Are you sure?” Rane said.
“Completely. I trust him more than Pumpoo, that’s for sure.” But I wasn’t sure he’d do for Rose what I would. Still, there was no point arguing about it. I’d just have to wait and see.
Mother turned to Rane. “You think he’d take the dra
gon in without too many questions?”
“Aye, I could always tell him I found her.”
Mother faced my direction again. “All right, Anira. You don’t have much time. Let’s get her fixed up and out of here as quickly as we can. Rane will take the dragon to Dean, and then that’s the end of it, understood?”
“I understand.” But just because I understood, didn’t mean I agreed, now did it?
“Traya, fetch my healing kit, will you?”
Traya, ever molding herself to the greater good, nodded, and set to retrieving the kit from the back of the cabinet, behind the pans. Mother liked to keep her herbs shielded from the sun. She said it preserved their potency.
Rose’s saggy expression told me she was in pain. We were going to need all the potency we could get. And luck, a whole lot of luck, because I was ready to fight for my injured friend.
Finally, I had a purpose beyond my own survival. I wouldn’t let her down.
12
Rose was skittish with Mother and Traya at first, but once she realized their touch was gentle, she relaxed and was a good patient. Traya applied the salve Mother made and kept on hand to treat the regular injuries Rane and I received. I might have been invisible, but that didn’t stop me from hurting myself.
“She’s pretty cute,” Traya said while she spread salve on the gash along Rose’s neck. Traya moved slowly and carefully. Even though she was a constant reminder of what my life might have been like if I’d been able to be a visible daughter of this family, I never resented Traya. I couldn’t. She was the gentlest person I’d ever met.
She rubbed her free hand along Rose’s back while she applied the salve. Rose looked as if she’d be happy to stay at Traya’s side forever.
Mother delayed in commenting. I dared to hope that maybe the unusual little dragon had charmed her, too. But then Mother said, “The dragon isn’t cute,” and dashed away my hopes. “She’s a dragon, and don’t you forget that for a moment.”
“But, Ma,” I protested, “just look at her. She wouldn’t harm anyone.”