Tiny Dragons 2: The Bear and Scepter (2 page)

The man hurried over to get beneath the dragon's wing and pressed himself to the enormous creature's side, feeling the glowing warmth of its chest. Dragons are warmer creatures than any other species on earth, filled with a great furnace within their bellies that some of them could turn into fire that erupts from the spout of their mouths. He pressed his face and chest against the dragon's side and said, "Thank you."

The dragon dropped his wing over the human to shield him from the wind. "Sometimes it is easy to forget that you are such a fragile species, for all of the grave destruction your kind is capable of."

Two shadows passed over their heads and the dragon looked up, seeing two other dragons approaching. The smaller female landed on the very tip of the mountain's peak, wrapping her lower claws around it like an eagle might grip a large branch. They called her Night, for she was colored dark blue, with brighter, bluer streaks, covering the backs of her wings. Her voice was soft and weary when she said, "Lord Sun, I did not find anything."

The golden dragon looked past her and said, "And what of your husband?"

At first, the dragon coming down behind Night appeared part of the sky itself. His body took the coloration of a cloudy afternoon, made of pale blue skin streaked with wispy white streaks covering his wings and chest. Cloud, as he was called, fluttered down beside them, standing nearly as tall as Lord Sun, and said, "Nor I. The Horn is not here."

"It has to be," the human called out, pushing his way from under the golden dragon's wing. "I am sure of it. We have to keep looking."

"We have looked everywhere!" Night said, her fierce reptilian eyes glowing bright yellow. Her stare narrowed on Lord Sun, "How long must we remain out here on this foolish errand? How long before we return to our loved ones?"

"As long as it takes," the man snapped. He regretted his anger the moment he looked at Night and then at Cloud, seeing their sadness and longing for home, and it was easy for him to see because he felt it just as deeply. He sighed and said, "I know you must miss your son very much. I miss my children too, but if we do not find Fafnir's Horn, there won't be any loved ones or home to return to. The Evil One has come, and without the Last Black Dragon, neither humans, nor dragons, nor any other living thing will stand a chance."

Lord Sun turned and looked up into the sky, seeing that the sun was nearly setting and soon it would grow too dark to search any further. "Let us find a cave for the evening. We'll build a fire and plan on how to search again tomorrow, or where to look after that if we must journey elsewhere."

He lowered his wing and the human climbed up onto his back. With a flap of his mighty wings, they took off into the air, soaring high above the peaks of the tallest mountains, until the village and streams and fields of the ground below were nothing more than tiny specks.

The human wrapped his arms around the sides of the golden dragon's neck and raised his voice to shout over the wind, "What do you think your wife would say if she saw you right now?"

Lord Sun laughed and said, "She'd tell me I was infested with humans and to roll over and drop you, I imagine. Lady Moon is not as fond of your kind as I seem to have become."

The man laughed, thinking about their first meeting and how the large dragon had nearly roasted him. "In many species, the women are the fiercer. Given what I've seen of Night and Cloud, I'd say it's true."

"Night is not fierce. She's a mother whose son is far away."

The man imagined Night's dark blue skin and her husband's cloudy exterior and imagined what their boy must look like. "Let me guess," he said. "Their child's name is Sunset?"

"Close," Lord Sun said. "The son of Cloud and Night is a dark dragon whose wings are covered in bright stars. Star, is his name."

"Star," the man said, picturing it in his mind. He looked down at the dragon's golden wings and said, "So what kind of dragon could come of a Moon and Sun? A Last Black Dragon, hopefully."

Lord Sun laughed into the wind and said, "No one knows, human. The Last Black Dragon is not revealed to us at his birth. He is simply the one who answers the call. When Fafnir's Horn is blown, and only then, will we know who he is. Or
she
is, as my wife would say if she were here. The Last Black Dragon may very well be a female."

"I never considered that," the man admitted. "I should like to meet your Lady Moon. She sounds quite interesting."

"She is the song of my soul," Lord Sun said, and his voice grew soft as he spoke of her and trailed off. He flapped his massive wings to gain speed and called out, "What of your wife? Would she want you to slay the wicked dragon if she saw you clinging to its back?"

"No," the man said. "I don't think so, anyway. When we first met, she had barely travelled out of her own hometown, let alone the places I dragged her along with me. She certainly had never seen dark wizards or giant spiders before. But she stuck with me through all of it. And now, if there was any one person I'd want by my side when it counted, it would be her."

"She, too, sounds interesting," Lord Sun said.

"Maybe when this is all over, we'll have to get together. I'm sure the kids would love to meet a few dragons."

"I suppose stranger things have happened, my friend. Not often, though. Certainly not often."

2. What an Unusual Visitor

The town of Brumbleton was alive with reports of a strange creature sighted in the woods just beyond Alana O'Neil's house. The townsfolk had breathlessly recounted seeing the creature to television reporters, the local news had posted Breaking News updates on the hour, and teams of scientists and wildlife protection agents had descended on the woods, desperate to see it for themselves.

Alana thought all of it would have been terrifically exciting if the creature were the right kind of mysterious beast.

She stood on her back porch and looked up at the mountains beyond Brumbleton Woods and sighed. Deep within the tallest mountain lived a family of creatures so magnificent, so amazing, that if anyone knew about them, no one would care about looking for some dumb bear.

From where she stood, she could see men in white jumpsuits walking around in the woods. They were followed closely by wildlife agents dressed in camouflage jackets and large floppy hats draped with mosquito netting that fitted around their heads. The agents carried large poles, gripping them tightly as they constantly looked around the woods, making sure the bear was not sneaking up on them.

From what Alana had seen on the news, the scientists had tried everything to capture the animal. They'd left out pots of honey inside big steel traps. They'd planted piles of berries and shovelfuls of fish over ropes, levers, and electronic sensors, all trying to capture the bear, with absolutely no success. But the bear was smart, they said. It had somehow managed to take the honey and scoop up the berries and swallow down the fish without being caught.

At first, it had seemed that the bear was playful, too. A neighbor of the O'Neil's who lived down the street had looked out into her backyard and seen a six-foot-tall brown bear standing just a few feet away from her, staring at its own reflection in the glass sliding doors. The woman had been too scared to scream, terrified that the bear was going to charge, but instead, it seemed more interested in her children's swing set. It climbed up the sliding board and across the monkey bars where it stretched itself out in the warm sunlight.

She'd managed to take a picture of the bear with her phone that showed it looking directly at her with its large brown eyes. That photograph had appeared in the next morning's newspaper and become quite famous.

But since then, no one had seen the bear, at least not directly. They'd found overturned trash cans and torn open bags of garbage strewn across the lawns. Old Mrs. Bonner, who lived down the road from the O'Neil's had all of her bird feeders yanked down in one night, raided by the bear.

And now there were dozens of people crashing through the woods, searching for it.
It probably just wants to be left alone,
Alana thought.

If anything, Alana felt bad for the bear, because all it was doing was being its normal self. James, Alana's older brother, said, "The bear must have come down from the mountains looking for food. They've inhabited this area a lot longer than we have. I don't see why everyone is so upset. If you leave them alone, they'll leave you alone. Unless you spook it. Then it will probably eat you."

It was the kind of thing James said when he wanted to sound like the man of the house, and Alana rolled her eyes and ignored him. She didn't appreciate him trying to act like he knew more than she did all the time, or that he had all the answers and knew things about everything there was, including bears. But, in reality, even though she'd have never admitted it to him, she believed he was probably right.

This time.

In some ways, Alana also felt jealous of the attention the bear was receiving. If people knew about the real mysterious creatures in the mountains, they wouldn't be so excited about a stupid bear. You could see a bear anytime you wanted at the zoo, or on TV, or online. They were everywhere.

But dragons?

Dragons were special. They were magical. They could fly, and they were absolutely, totally, completely secret. 

The only other person who knew about the dragons was James, and he refused to talk about them. Almost like he was trying to pretend he hadn't seen them on the night they rescued Star, or fought off the wizard Prospero, or they were rescued by Lady Moon. Alana walked back into her house and picked up her gray cat, Mister Six, and stroked him along the back of his neck until he purred and nuzzled against her.

Mister Six had been there as well, and acted quite differently than any normal cat, but ever since that night, he'd done nothing except lay around like his usual self. Alana held the cat close to her and petted him, but her eyes searched the woods as they always did. Not for the men in the white jumpsuits or for the wildlife agents, or even for the dumb old bear. She was looking for her friend, Star. She missed him, and more than anything, she wanted him to come back.

Alana was tired of people leaving. She hated it. Last year, her best friend in school, who was her best friend ever since kindergarten, moved away. They'd tried to stay in touch, but it wasn't easy, and when they did talk, all her friend wanted to talk about was her new school and new friends.

Her father had left even before that. He'd been gone so long, Alana sometimes had trouble remembering what he looked like. One of their favorite games used to be the times he'd take her hand and rub it along the scruff of his chin until she squealed with laughter. He was a great snuggle-buddy too, from what she could remember. They used to sit on the couch and watch movies, cuddling under a warm blanket while he stroked her hair. And even when he got mad and yelled, like all parents do, for something the children were doing wrong, which all children do, he'd bark at James and rant and rave, but when he spoke to Alana, his voice would grow soft and he'd say, "You are my little princess, please don't do that anymore, love."

When she was old enough, they'd gone to her school's Father/Daughter Dance, where everyone dressed up and the school's music teacher played the "Chicken Song" and "YMCA" all night long. Some of the little girls carried around bouquets of flowers, and others had come to the dance in white stretch limousines. A few of the fathers had even dressed up in tuxedos. When Alana's father let her out of the back of the car in the school's parking lot, he looked at the other fathers with wide eyes and said, "I suddenly feel underdressed."

He was wearing jeans and a nice button down shirt and as he looked around at tuxedos and limousines, he quickly tucked it into his waist. Alana had worn a nice dress, with stockings and shoes, and her mother had braided her hair back. She put her hand in her father's and they crossed the parking lot to go into the school. "Nobody said this was a formal event," he whispered to her. "Formal means fancy."

Alana looked around at the other girls, some of whom were dressed like she was, in regular dresses, and then at the ones who were dressed "formal" in great balls of taffeta fluff, and she shrugged. "I'm just glad we're here."

"Me too," her father said, patting her on the hand.

They walked into the school's gymnasium and the speakers were pounding with loud party music. There were scores of girls gathered at the juice table, and others picking at the trays of cookies and popcorn, while others were simply standing off to the side with their fathers, looking at the empty floor in front of the DJ's booth. No one was dancing.

"You want to get some juice?" her father said.

"Nah."

"You hungry?"

"Maybe later."

Alana held her father's hand as she looked around, wondering if she'd see any of her friends and they'd save her from standing against the wall with the rest of the crowd for the whole night, when she noticed her father's right foot was bouncing up and down.

"Uh oh," he said, raising his voice so she could hear him above the music.

"What's wrong?" she shouted back.

His foot was now bouncing and kicking and hopping around, as if on its own, and her father said, "I must have accidentally put on my dancing shoes tonight. They hear the music and want to dance!" His other foot was doing the same thing now, dragging him toward the dance floor, and her with him. "I can't help it! It's got me."

"Dad!" Alana complained, looking back nervously to see that none of the other girls were dancing, and none of the other fathers were pretending to have on dancing shoes. He started wiggling his hips and said, "Oh no. It's in my pants now. My clothes are dancing by themselves!"

She laughed as he spun her around and around, pulling her close to him and then backing away so they could shake and jump and shimmy as much as they wanted. They weren't alone long, though, because as soon as all the other little girls saw her dancing with her dad, the dance floor flooded with taffeta dresses and confused looking men wearing stiff tuxedos.

When slow songs came on, Alana's father lifted her up and she laid her head on his shoulder, and all was right with the world.

They'd missed the last Father/Daughter Dance. He was already gone by then. Her mother took Alana and James out for pizza and ice cream and let them play in the arcade for an hour, trying to keep the evening fun and distracting. But it didn't change the fact that all the other little girls in her school were somewhere dancing with their fathers. It didn't change the fact that she didn't even know where hers was.

And now, the next Father/Daughter Dance was coming up in just a few months, and it didn't look like she was going to attend that one either. James had offered to take her, which had been sweet of him, really, but Alana refused. She felt like accepting his offer was accepting that her dad wouldn't be home in time to take her, that by speaking about it, it was made more real.

Her thoughts were broken up by the sound of her brother coming into the kitchen, drumming the countertop as he walked past, and stomping the plastic garbage can pedal down. "We have to make sure we keep all the trash away from the house, otherwise the bear will come looking for it. They told us at school today to try and tie down the lids."

"Okay," Alana said, stroking Mister Six and continuing to look out the window to the backyard.

"You okay, kiddo?" James said.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just bored. I want to go into the woods and look for…you know."

"Well we can't. Everyone says we have to stay in our houses until they find the bear." He frowned at the sad look on his little sister's face, and he said, "Listen, kiddo. I don't think we're ever going to see your other friends again. They probably moved on, or changed mountains, or something."

"No, they didn't," Alana shot back. "You're being dumb."

Mrs. O'Neil came into the kitchen then, crossing between the children, and said, "Who's being dumb?"

Alana and James looked at one another, and then she said, "James is. He says we can't go outside because he's scared of the stupid bear."

Mrs. O'Neil poured out a half-drunk cup of coffee into the sink and said, "Well, actually, I agree with him. It's too dangerous right now. The bear is obviously not scared of humans or houses and comes right up to them."

"What if he's nice, though?" Alana said.

"He might be, but let's say he wanted to play with you. He's so big and strong and fast that he might grab you, thinking he's being playful, and wind up hurting you very badly. The sooner they catch him and relocate him, the better off it is for him. And everyone else, too," Mrs. O'Neil added. She looked through the kitchen window at the agents in the woods and said, "It shouldn't take long now. Those men seem to know what they're doing."

Mister Six stalked across the kitchen floor toward the patio door, coming up beside Mrs. O'Neil's leg. He stroked against her calf with his long, soft body, and purred loudly. He stopped in front of the glass and pawed it several times until Mrs. O'Neil looked down and said, "What is it? You want to go out there?"

She threw open the latch and the cat shot through the opening, a blur of gray across the patio that leapt and darted for the trees beyond the backyard. Alana let out a tiny cry and said, "Mom! What did you do that for?"

"He needed to go out."

"But what if the bear gets him? He might get hurt!"

"Of course he won't, honey," Mother said. "Mister Six is quite capable of taking care of himself."

"You can say that again," James grunted, trying not to smile.

Alana balled up her fists in frustration. Obviously, the cat was no ordinary cat, they'd seen that when he helped them rescue Star, but that wasn't something she could tell Mother. It seemed a horrible idea to let a cat, no matter how smart, out into the woods against a gigantic bear with all its teeth and claws.

"I saw two cats wrestle a rattlesnake online the other day," James added. They were so fast, the snake couldn't strike them. It was amazing. See, all snakes are cold-blooded creatures, so they run out of energy quick. All the cats had to do was jump out of the way a few times, and before long the rattlesnake was too exhausted to move."

James voice kept droning on about snakes and cats and other things he'd seen online, only stopping long enough to cock his ear toward the kitchen entrance to say, "Does anyone else hear that?"

Alana turned and looked, and this time she also heard a soft rapping on the front door, so quiet that she'd almost missed it.

Mrs. O'Neil was bent over one of the cabinets, pulling out pots and pans and setting them on the counter to get ready for dinner. She looked over her shoulder at James and said, "Honey, can you see who that is? If it's one of those survey people, tell them I'm busy."