I scrambled up the jagged mountainside, the indifferent wind numbing my face. Why don’t dragons prefer tropical islands?
The thought of my bedridden mother and hungry siblings spurred me onward. Just a few gold coins from the dragon’s treasure. Easy in, easy out.
I glanced down at the valley. Our dwindling flock of sheep…
“Absolutely not!” My bass voice shook the room. “I refuse.”
King Elrose Pendrake VI merely grinned. “Oh, don’t be like that, you big lizard. Wasn’t it you who taught me not to refuse something without knowing what I’m refusing?”
“That’s different. I know exactly what kind of nonsense you’ll be involving me in.”
A month ago, I wouldn’t have entertained the idea of staying in a foreign national park after operating hours. Now, I was following my sister down a winding trail in the sunset. “Jess! Are you sure about this?”
She didn’t break stride, simply glanced over her shoulder with a smile. “Trust me, Liz.”
Ding-a-ling. Ding-a-ling-a-ling.
Sofie scowled, set down the new display plaque, and rubbed her ears. This was the seventh night in a row now, and she couldn’t focus with the strange, inconsistent ringing. Some quiet would be nice. She glared at the various bells arranged on display blocks or hanging from black ribbons.
I flapped my wings, soaring into the clouds. The sun felt glorious warming my scales. Mountains spread below, among them the labyrinthian castle complex of the Infinite Library. Broad skylights glowed in the sunlight.
Suddenly I was inside, still in dragon form. I tried to sort a stack of books, but I kept clawing…
Zmey Gorynych stalked through the golden halls of Catherine Palace. Fire burned beneath his skin, and his long fingers curved into talons. He could not tarry in his mission—his true, powerful form yearned to be unleashed. Now that he was no longer tethered to humanity by Alyona’s soft words, her gentle kisses,
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Sir Gregory stepped out from behind the overturned table, dusted the ash off his boots, and exhaled in relief. Not even a scuff on the shiny leather. He ran fingers over his cape made from a manticore’s pelt. That, too, was as luxurious as ever. He stared through the broken wall at the departing
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Flames swept across the living room as the young dragon wailed. One fireball incinerated a garland while another illuminated the Christmas tree.
Coppelia Potts stared with mouth agape. She’d have to update her résumé once again: full-time Nightmare Hunter, part-time babysitter, and elder sister to a temperamental dragon.
Coppelia grabbed a blanket
The portal closed with a whumph and the smell of old books. I’d teleported myself deep beneath the massive castle complex of the Infinite Library, chasing rumors of ancient, forgotten books.
Dangerous books.
I hadn’t been expecting carpet.
I Imparted will into a small light sphere made of bronze. It floated at eye-level
I sat stooped at the edge of the castle fountain, waiting patiently to die. The hum of humanity inundated me. It filled the outer bailey—travelers swapping rumors, merchants shooing children from their tents. I was surrounded by people, yet alone. I had no offspring, no kin, not a soul who knew my name.
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With a final cry, I swept the ogre’s foul head off his body and sidestepped as he crashed to the ground beside his two brethren. Before the dust settled, I bounded up the hill to their lair, whence black smoked billowed. They kept their ill-gotten treasures within—and their captives, who cried piteously
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Rule 44: Dragons are not heroes—do not act like one.
It’s one of the many rules I, Orpheus, abide by. One of 345, to be exact. Though please don’t ask me to recite them all—I simply haven’t the time. Cave dwelling involves much slumbering and polishing of scales.
But I’ll tell you a few.
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