by Sarah Noffke
Mama Jamba’s eyes sparkled. “Always the intuitive one. And yes, I’m on the brink of making a decision that I’ve been reluctant to. You know how those go? You want to do it because you feel suddenly compelled, maybe because you’re drunk on old whiskey or a grumpy goose let you braid his hair or because Elvis music just puts you in a good mood. You know what I mean?”
“I’m not sure I do,” Sophia related.
“What I’m trying to say, and I hope I don’t regret it, is that I’ve agreed to help you, Sophia. I’m going to give Papa Creola the essence of my magic.”
“What!” Sophia exclaimed, completely surprised. “You are?”
“Well, I’ve had good reasons not to in the past, but now they don’t seem that big of a deal,” Mama Jamba stated. “And you’ve proven a lot in a little bit of time, so I see no better reason. You get to recover the horn, Papa gets something he wants, and you bond with your mother’s sword—completing your training. It really makes sense, but maybe that’s the whiskey and music talking.”
“Wow, thank you so much, Mama Jamba!” Sophia gushed. “I’m very grateful.”
Mama Jamba smiled at her sweetly. “Oh, I know you are honey. But many hardships will come out of this. Reversing acts is mentally and emotionally tough for everyone on this timeline. And slaying the Phantom, well, that will be horribly difficult. But the biggest thing is this must, it absolutely must, set you on a course to finish your dragon-rider training.”
“Why is that?” Sophia asked.
Mother Nature gave her a look full of love and wisdom. “Because it’s essential that you’re ready for what’s coming.”
“You mean the war with Thad Reinhart?”
“Yes, there is that,” Mama Jamba said, hiding a sneaky grin. “But there’s more to it. If and when you complete your training, it will spark something that could change everything.”
“Why?” Sophia asked, wondering how her training could have such far-reaching effects.
The oldest entity alive gave her an expression of pure fondness. “Because, darling, that’s the way I set it up.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling confused. “And all I have to do is complete my training?”
Mama Jamba laughed. “Yes, but that’s like saying, ‘All I have to do is eat a dinosaur for dinner.’ There will be no greater challenge in your life than the trials you must pass to earn your wings as a dragonrider. It pains me that you will have to overcome such obstacles, and yet there is no other way.”
Sophia nodded, her head full and her body tired. “Okay, well, I’ll give it all I have. Thank you again for helping me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Mama Jamba said, backing toward the dining hall, which was growing louder with music and laughter. “Seriously, don’t ever mention it, or I’ll have requests coming out of my nose.”
Sophia nodded, turning for the stairs, her head buzzing from all the strange new events. She was going to be able to go after other lone riders and recruit them. They would hopefully build back up the numbers of the Dragon Elite, but not to what it once was. It would never be that. But hopefully, they could be a formidable enough force to take down Thad Reinhart. And Sophia was going to be given the chance to bond to her mother’s sword, completing her training with the Dragon Elite.
But first, all of that would have to wait. Even young dragonriders needed their rest, for there would be many more adventures tomorrow.
Chapter Forty-Nine
The beast’s clawed feet stomped on the stone floor, shaking the walls of the castle. The chained dragon tried again to break through the muzzle that kept its jaws together and the fire it breathed from shooting on its captors.
Thad Reinhart sighed impatiently. “Sedate it,” he said to his head scientist, Alexander Drake.
“But, sir,” the round man with a long white beard argued, “I need him to be conscious for these tests.”
Thad backed away from the cell that held the green dragon. The creature wasn’t large, but it had proven to be powerful for its size. “Fine, he will wear himself out. Then do what you have to.”
“He might also hurt himself, like the others,” Drake explained. “And then his parts will be useless to you.”
“Then sedate him,” Thad growled, his Scottish accent thicker when he was angry, although he’d worked to refine his speech and tried to erase all parts of his past.
“That’s the thing, sir. I’m wrestling with the two projects you would have me do. I can’t do both using the same dragon.” Drake held his hand up and pointed to the other cells where dragons lay half alive, suffering from the many experiments done on them. “And these other ones, well, they won’t do.”
Thad shook his head. “No, they won’t. But keep them alive. We never know when we could use them.”
“Will there be more dragons that you’ll be bringing in?” Drake asked, striding beside Thad as he made his way down the long corridor of the dungeon.
“I would hope so,” Thad answered. “But I’ve had trouble finding them.”
“Well, if you manage to find more, I would devote one to the new project and use this one for the other.” Drake swept his arm back, indicating the green dragon still trying to free itself from the magically enhanced chains, the only things that could restrain it so effectively.
Thad spun around, his eyes narrow as he stared at Drake. “There is nothing more important than the ‘other project,’ as you call it.”
The scientist cleared his throat. “I get that, sir. Which has me thinking that maybe I should abandon the new project. It won’t destroy a dragon and its rider, which I know is your end goal. And—”
“No, this project won’t kill them. What it will do is worse.” Thad balled his fist at his side and felt his temper rising. It would be best if he kept himself in check. He didn’t want to replace another scientist due to one of his outbursts. “Death is easy,” he continued. “It is nothing. But to be alive and have the very thing you love destroyed…that’s punishment. It kills you slowly from the inside, which is what I want for the Dragon Elite. It’s what Hiker Wallace deserves.”
“Okay, so you want me to continue with both projects?” Drake asked and swallowed, the familiar fear Thad induced heavy in his eyes.
“Of course I do,” Thad stated. “And yes, I’m working on finding you more dragons, but as you know, that’s difficult.”
“There aren’t many lone dragons left, are there?” Drake’s tone was careful.
Thad shook his head. “No, and there are even fewer dragons with riders. I’ve seen to that.”
“Which is what I could use for the new project,” Drake explained. “To learn how to sever their connection, I would need both. And although this dragon does help, it isn’t really the same without a rider. Those dragons are different. They are more complex.”
“I know that,” Thad said in a hushed voice, his breath hot and his pulse rapid. “Go ahead and use this one for parts. I will find you a dragon and rider. I think even without the Dragon Elite globe, I can track down the few that remain outside the Gullington. I just need to do it before Hiker Wallace gets to them, trying to recruit.”
“So, you know Hiker is back?” Drake asked, his cracked lips twitching with nervousness. “The Dragon Elite are active once more?”
“Yes,” Thad answered. “I’m certain of it. His dragonriders have trespassed in two of my facilities and stolen the last remaining dragon eggs.”
“How do you know they are the last?” Drake asked.
“Because it’s my job to know these things,” Thad stated, stomping toward the exit at the end of the hallway, tired of smelling the putrid rot.
“How do you know Hiker Wallace will go after the other dragons and riders out there?” Drake questioned. “You said he had written them off.”
Thad turned. “I simply know. I know how that man thinks.”
Chapter Fifty
Sophia Beaufont had never been in the Cave at the Gullington where the dragons resided. No hu
man had. It was a sacred place for the dragons that even their riders weren’t allowed to enter—no matter what.
Scrying changed those rules for Sophia.
Wow, it’s dark in there, Sophia commented to Lunis telepathically, seeing the inside of the Cave for the first time by looking through his eyes. Even in the dark, she could make out his surroundings.
And there are no couches to lie on, he stated, displeasure in his tone. We’re supposed to lie on the cold ground like savages.
Or rather, like prehistoric dragons. I’d lodge a complaint with management if I were you, Sophia joked.
I would, but it would do me no favors. The others already think I’m strange and spoiled. They aren’t wrong, Lunis imparted objectively. It’s just weird not to have any furniture in the Cave.
Or a television, she added, searching the Cave as Lunis revolved his head around the large room.
I’m actually working on fixing that. I can deal with no furniture, but miss entertainment? The others are a bit resistant to the idea, though, he explained.
Give them one show of The Umbrella Academy and they’ll be hooked, Sophia suggested.
I don’t think they’ll do well with fantasy, Lunis argued.
Dragons, really? she questioned. You don’t think fire-breathing dragons with magic will take to fantasy? Well, how about The Good Place, or The Office, or Parks and Recreation?
I don’t think so. They don’t have the same sense of humor as me, Lunis commented.
I didn’t think they had any sense of humor at all, actually, Sophia said.
They do, but it’s drier.
Okay, then something British, Sophia stated. Father Ted, Vicar of Dibley, Black Books. You think any of those will work?
You’ve had a very strange upbringing that you even know those shows. Have you ever watched something normal for an American girl?
Like The Little Mermaid or Beauty and the Beast? Sophia asked
Exactly, Lunis answered. He already knew the answer but enjoyed teasing Sophia about how different she was from the modern youth of America. And I don’t think those British comedies would go over well with the other dragons. Maybe something with action would be better for them.
Braveheart, Sophia offered.
Don’t even go there, Lunis said, sounding offended.
Sophia giggled. Oh, I thought that depiction of the Scottish was spot on.
It’s like your impression of the Scottish accent, Lunis declared.
Which is amazing, Sophia joked. “What are pants?” she asked aloud, doing her best Scottish accent and impression of Hiker Wallace, which she knew was offensively atrocious.
Lunis shook his head, changing her view. Stop. You must stop doing that.
I can try, but I have little hope it will work. It’s an incurable affliction, Sophia said, looking around at the cave through Lunis’ eyes.
Bones of animals littered the cave floor. The ceiling was high, uneven, and covered in bright green moss. The light that did stream in through the large opening provided enough to see that there were no amenities to the space. Just cold rock and claw-marked cave walls.
But there was something of extraordinary value that was newly hidden in the Cave.
There they are, Sophia said when Lunis looked directly at the five dragon eggs nestled in the corner.
They hadn’t grown, although that had been one assumption. The other dragonriders had speculated that the eggs would change and grow after coming to the Gullington. They still might, but presently they shimmered with the same effervescence as when Sophia laid eyes on them when she was nine-years-old in the shop in Los Angeles.
That had only been a year or so ago, but for Sophia, it had been over a decade. The passing of time was different for her because of the chi of the dragon. Apparently, Father Time also had a hand in accelerating her age.
Sophia wasn’t a child in an adult body. She was every bit an adult, matured both mentally and emotionally.
Do you think they are happier now? Sophia asked Lunis, referring to the dragon eggs.
I believe so, he answered. It’s hard to know, though. As dragons, we are all connected, but not like you and I are. We can’t feel what each other does, or know what the others think. We simply have always known one another, but only on a surface level.
That’s confusing, Sophia said.
Tell me about it, he said with a huff. Imagine having a thousand of your relatives cataloged in your head. We know each other, and then we don’t.
So you don’t know who will come out of those eggs? she asked. Like what their names are or what their personalities will be like?
He indicated an emerald-colored egg. I know that one will be green.
Okay, you’re ruining the wise dragon thing for me right now, Sophia said, seeing a different part of the Cave as Lunis glanced around. It was more of the same—cold walls and dark corners.
Where do you keep your blanket and mini-piano? Sophia joked, knowing he particularly loathed that one.
Lunis, he corrected. My name is Lunis, not Linus. And I’m not a cartoon character either.
Of course not, Sophia stated. You’re a majestic dragon. By the way, do you want to see what you look like with the new Snapchat filters I got? There’s one that switches our faces. I want to see what I look like with horns.
Heck, yes, I do, Lunis said, walking toward the opening of the Cave. When do you leave to recruit dragonriders?
How did you know about that? Sophia asked.
You’re in my head right now, he answered.
Oh, and you’re in mine most all the time, she said, realizing he must have witnessed her conversation with Hiker about her next mission. I’m not sure when I’ll leave. The Viking is still trying to locate the lone riders out there, and I don’t believe he’s giving it his full effort yet. I realize he knows what the Dragon Elite must do, but progress is hard for him. There is something holding him back, I think, besides his old-world thinking. It’s always one step forward, two back with Mr. Kilts.
I’m not sure I’d call him that to his face, Lunis advised.
Sophia laughed. So, you don’t think I should run my Scottish accent by him either? I think he’d love it.
That’s a negative, he answered.
“What’s a fork?” Sophia asked aloud in her worst Scottish accent. “What does sunlight feel like?”
I’m begging you to stop this, Lunis said, his tone pained.
Okay, fine, she agreed. But only for you. Actually, anything for you.
She felt him smile.
Same here, Sophia.
Chapter Fifty-One
It was definitely not the day to attempt to tease Hiker, Sophia realized as soon as she walked down the grand staircase of the Castle and into the dining hall.
The Viking was sitting in his normal chair, buttering his toast as if the bread had done something to offend him. He broke it in half with the next stroke of his knife, both pieces falling onto the plate. The Castle had apparently decided to give him back his regular clothes, so he wasn’t wearing the retro suit anymore, but rather his traditional kilt and a sullen expression. His blond hair was back to hanging loosely around his face, although the creases from the braid Mama Jamba had given him were still noticeable.
Conversely, Mama Jamba sat beside him, not one of her gray hairs out of place. She was wearing a fresh pink tracksuit and a joyous smile. In front of her was a plate drenched in maple syrup and sprinkled with pancake crumbs.
“Ainsley,” Mama Jamba called to the kitchen. “Another short stack of pancakes, please, my dear.”
Sophia cut her eyes to Wilder, who was giving her a curious expression that seemed to say, “Take a seat and just watch. Don’t say a word.”
Silently, she took a seat, took a sip of water to cover her roaming eyes, and studied the obvious tension between Hiker and Mama Jamba.
Ainsley trotted through the kitchen door, holding two plates. She set a fresh stack of pancakes in front of Mama Jamba, then f
luidly swapped out Hiker’s plate of broken toast for a fresh one, unscathed by the Dragon Elite leader’s knife.
“Do you want me to butter it for you?” the housekeeper asked, the empty plates hitched on her hip and a cunning grin in her green eyes.
He growled, his beard vibrating. “I’m perfectly capable of buttering my own toast, Ainsley. Thank you very much.”
“He’s just mad. He’ll get over it,” Mama Jamba said before taking a bite of buttery pancakes dripping in syrup.
Ainsley clapped her free hand to her cheek and pretended to appear shocked. “What? Hiker Wallace is angry? Well, I never. What has happened to make our placid leader quake?”
Hiker’s eyes fluttered with annoyance as his knife cut into the butter. “I think there’s something burning in the kitchen, Ainsley. Would you run along and check on it?”
She shook her head. “That’s impossible. I’m not cooking anything.”
He glanced up at her. “What do you mean? There is no bacon out here yet. And where are the eggs?”
“Mama Jamba asked for pancakes,” she answered. “And the kids seem fine just watching the show.” She indicated Sophia and Wilder, who still had empty plates and keen expressions. They immediately shuffled for the various plates of fruits and pastries as Hiker cut his eyes at them.
“Would you get us eggs and bacon?” Hiker said tersely. “They will need protein for today’s training.”
“Ainsley is my name,” she replied. “Not ‘Would You.’”
He shook his head at her. “And you cooked those pancakes for Mama, so stop fibbing and make some eggs and bacon.”
“Fine, fine,” she answered, striding toward the kitchen. The swinging door was hardly shut before she buzzed back with two trays, one with steaming eggs and the other with bacon, still sizzling.
Hiker paused, his knife an inch from his toast. “I thought you weren’t cooking anything?”
“I wasn’t,” Ainsley stated. “There’s this thing called magic. It’s sort of hard to explain. But you see, the Castle, where you’re currently sitting, is full of this magic. And sometimes when I need something, the Castle—”