Wings of Renewal: A Solarpunk Dragon Anthology (2 page)

The room got hotter, and Jaci couldn’t keep eye contact with Bright. She looked away, suddenly interested in a spot on the floor.

“Uh, it’s not a problem.”

Roshanak limped towards Jaci, her scales still vibrating and tingling softly. She lowered her head, nuzzling Jaci’s cheek. Her nose was warm and surprisingly soft. She licked Jaci’s face, leaving a trail of drool up her cheek and forehead.
 

“Ahhhh, thank you!” Jaci pulled away, wiping the hot slobber from her face. “R-Really, I-I’m just doing my job! So, uh … I … I’ll see you?”

Jaci dashed out the garage door, thankful that Bright didn’t see the faint blush underneath her skin.
 

* * *

Ren Yee’s Sundries was easily one of the most popular shops in New Argent City’s Umbrella Market. Shelves creaked under the weight of kaleidoscopes filled with shards of broken stained glass; glass carvings of horses, birds, bees, and dragonflies; jewelry made from circuit boards from old computers; headpieces and even parasols with solar panels for charging small electronics. They sold clothes that could transform between hoods, bags, and shirts; shoes that glowed in the dark when you tapped the heel on the ground twice. Jaci not only took custom orders on prosthetics, but she and Mx. Yee did custom orders on sculptures, head ornaments, bikes, and personal music players in the shapes of birds and insects that hovered around their owners’ heads, transmitting music into wireless headphones. Mx. Yee had taught Jaci just about everything she knew. She could not have asked for a better mentor or to work in a better shop.
 

Mx. Yee didn’t ask her where she had spent that morning (Jaci was glad they didn’t, because she could never bring herself to lie to Mx. Yee); they just set her to work on the latest round of orders. Jaci worked in a room in the back of the shop, the door open so she could watch the customers browse the shelves. Her own music player, shaped like a golden dragonfly, hovered over her head as she constructed a floral headpiece for a customer. Of course, her mind was on Roshanak and Bright. She wanted to do everything she could to help them. The situation had a ring of adventure to it she couldn’t resist. Her fingers trembled. She wanted to get started on the leg
so badly
, but she had other work to take care of. She wanted Roshanak to move like a dragon could move, free from poachers and danger.
 

Between orders, Jaci sketched designs for Roshanak’s leg in her notebook. She finished a round of headpieces and music players, then took her lunch break in the basement. The shop’s 3D printer sat in the corner, amid an array of computers, rolls of blueprints, and prototypes of prosthetic limbs. Jaci uploaded her design and the measurements into the program, the 3D printer booting up with the new knowledge. It would print the leg in pieces, which she would have to assemble. She ran through the process and mechanics in her head as she watched the leg print. If she couldn’t have it done by sundown, she would definitely have it done by morning.
 

* * *

On the second day of her summer vacation, Jaci ran from poachers.

She awoke at 6am in a silent shop, her face sticking to her worktable with drool. The finished leg sat in front of her, ready to be attached to Roshanak’s stump. She knew it would never be as beautiful as Roshanak’s real scales, but she’d tried to capture their brilliance all the same. The claws would open and close when Roshanak flexed the muscles in what remained of her leg. Prosthetics made at Ren Yee’s Sundries were the sturdiest in New Argent City; they would last a while. She just needed to get it to Roshanak.
 

Jaci remembered how ragged and tired Bright looked yesterday. She wondered, when was the last time Bright had eaten? When was the last time Roshanak had? What did dragons even eat? Jaci picked up her phone, dialing Bright’s number. It rang a few times, but Bright didn’t pick up. She tried again, jiggling her feet underneath the table. Still no reply. She was probably just asleep.
 

Jaci needed to do something. She was too anxious to start work early, and she didn’t want to go by the garages without letting Bright know. Jaci left the shop, bringing her dragonfly music player with her to fill the morning silence. Outside, sunlight filtering through the fog crawling over the Umbrella Market’s glass dome gave the market a dreamy, hazy look. When Jaci looked up, she saw a thick trail of black smoke snaking through the sky outside the dome. It was coming from the direction of the garages in Old Town. She took a deep, steadying breath.
 

The mechanical dragonfly sat obediently on Jaci’s shoulder as she hurried up the boulevard to Sweet Bee’s 24-Hour Diner, a honey-colored building on the corner of Delight Avenue. Like most buildings in the market, it looked to be carved from soft, curving wood. Words cut into the stained-glass window said “SWEET BEE’S: SERVING THE COMMUNITY FOR 50 YEARS” in bold white letters.
 

Jaci ordered three boxes of almond suncakes with maple syrup, and one pitcher of pineapple juice from the black-clad waitress, who clogged about the café in terrarium platform shoes. The morning news played from speakers mounted on the café walls.

“Investigators are ruling out arson as a cause for the fire,” said the anchor. “In other news, Varteres’ largest algae-powered airship,
The Hyacinthus
, will land in Lotus Harbor today—”
 

Jaci took her cartons of suncakes out to the café tables. She picked at her food, trying to find her appetite. It wasn’t going to come, not as long as she thought about Bright and Roshanak. She looked up again, only to see that the pillar of smoke was thicker and darker than before.
 

Jaci’s phone vibrated. She snatched it from her pocket and answered without looking at the screen.

“Hello?”

“Jaci! Jaci, it’s Bright.”

The panic in Bright’s voice made Jaci’s stomach curl.
 

“Bright! Where are—?”

“Jaci, listen to me, they’re—!”

A shout came from the other end of the line. A distant roar. A curdling scream and a sound like wood cracking.
 

“Bright? Bright!”

No reply. For several seconds, Jaci only heard rushing air or static, she couldn’t tell which. Her hands trembled, the phone knocking against her ear. What was happening? How could things go so wrong so quickly?
 

“Jaci?”

“Bright! Bright, what’s going—?”

“Jaci, listen,
don’t
come to the garage, they know, they found us. I’m going to the Verity Nature Reserve, I’ll call you again when it’s safe.”
 

She hung up before Jaci could say anything.
 

Jaci looked at the cartons of food and the pitcher of pineapple juice in front of her. Her heart pounded in her chest. She needed to get the leg. She needed to get to Bright and Roshanak. Jaci left some change on the table and hurried back up the boulevard. After slipping through the door and down to the basement, Jaci wrapped the leg in plastic and again in cloth, placing it, the silicone liner, and a few socks into a canvas bag. She worked through a plan in her mind: she would go to the nature reserve and wait for Bright to call her. That’s all she had to do. Leave the Umbrella Market, and go to the nature reserve.
 

Jaci secured the bag on her left shoulder, ready to act out her plan. She made it to the door of the basement when she heard glass shatter upstairs. Footsteps stomped on the floors above, mixed with barely concealed whispers.
 

“Jaci Sahiri,” said a voice; it sounded like a woman’s. “That’s the name the girl was shouting on the phone. Looks like they’re a mechanic.”
 

“She’s obviously trying to get the thing a leg,” said another voice, deep and oddly soothing. “All that’s gonna do is up the price for it. You know how many people would
kill
for a dragon with a
prosthesis
? We can strip the scales and antlers, and give the rest of it to some collector.”
 

Jaci locked the basement door, wondering if the intruders could hear her heart knocking against her ribs. She took a deep breath, taking a moment to calm herself so she didn’t hide in the closet like she wanted to. She thought of Bright, who’d avoided poachers across half a continent with an injured dragon in tow. Jaci knew she could do the same in this shop and on her own. She grabbed a wrench off the shelf, dropping it into her canvas bag. Footsteps stomped on the stairs outside the door. Jaci clambered onto her worktable, her fingers fumbling over the locks on the window facing the alleyway. The doorknob rattled. Jaci threw the window open at the same time a dark, hulking man broke the door down with the weight of his shoulder. Jaci screamed, throwing the bag into the alley. She tried to scramble through, but the man grabbed her left ankle like a vice. She kicked at his hand with her right leg, and he screamed when the metal limb connected with his wrist. He let go, and Jaci crawled out the window, snatching up the canvas bag.
 

She dashed out of the alley, before colliding into the chest of a third poacher. She fell onto her bag, looking up at the tall, skinny man.
 

“Look, we’re not going to hurt you,” he said, although the grim smile on his face suggested otherwise. “You’re Jaci, right? We just need you to tell us where the dragon is, and we’ll leave you alone.”
 

Jaci reached into the bag and pulled out her wrench. With a shout, she lunged forward and hit the man in his right knee as hard as she could. He cried out, clutching his knee and falling over. Jaci darted around him, hurrying down the boulevard past Sweet Bee’s. She could hear shouting behind, but she didn’t look back. She dodged around the shoppers trickling into the market, taking all the shortcuts she knew. She left the Umbrella Marker, emerged onto Unity Street, then hurried down the sidewalk, power-walking through the morning crowd. When she was far enough away from the Umbrella Market’s dome, she hailed a passing auto-rickshaw, the little white pod rolling to a stop in front of her.
 

“Where to, little girl?” the driver asked as Jaci closed the door. She looked out the window and saw the poachers in the crowd, the big man massaging his wrist, the woman’s pale face red with fury.
 

“The Verity Nature Reserve, please.”
 

The driver obliged with no questions.
 

Jaci took out her phone and called Bright. She couldn’t wait anymore.

“Hello?”

“Bright! It’s Jaci. Um … I-I got some customers at the shop.”

“…What did you tell them?”

“I couldn’t help them, so I told them to try somewhere else. Where are you?”
 

A moment of silence, before she said, “I’m at the nature reserve. Please, hurry.”
 

Bright hung up, leaving Jaci to endure the rest of the ride in silence.
 

The city faded to grassy fields dotted with young woods and the remains of old factories and storage hubs converted into houses and farms. Shepherds herded their sheep and cows on sol-bikes, their dogs barking next to them. The New Argent Mountains stood sentinel over the fields, cloaked in thick forests and clouds. There was no way the poachers could find Jaci out here; she’d left them in the city, and they were probably still looking for her there. The nature reserve was a bold place to hide a dragon, but it was perfect. Plenty of open space for Roshanak to hide in. Jaci willed the rickshaw to move faster. The quicker she got this leg on, the better.
 

She leaned out the window when the rickshaw stopped at the entrance of the reserve. A stone trail wove through the thickening forest. Jaci’s phone vibrated almost as soon as she stepped out of the rickshaw.

“Meet me by the Red Rock,” was Bright’s short instruction. Luckily, signs along the trail pointed Jaci in the direction of the landmark. At this hour of the morning, the trails were blissfully empty of too many people. Some hikers straggled here and there, taking pictures of the towering redwoods, gentle streams, and rock formations that edged the trails. Jaci moved quickly down the trail, occasionally looking over her shoulders for any sign of the poachers.
 

The signs led Jaci to a small meadow bursting with purple, gold, bright pink, and deep red wildflowers. The Red Rock, ten feet tall and worn smooth by centuries of wind and rain erosion, sat in the middle of the meadow. Deep red stains, younger than the rock, marred its gray surface, remnants of the executions that were staged there during the revolution. A few people milled about it, posing for pictures or reading the sign that told its history. Bright stood near the sign, her shock of blonde hair and dirty clothes giving her away. Jaci wondered when the last time she’d taken a bath or even slept was. She gently tapped Bright on the shoulder. Bright whipped around, her eyes wide with apprehension. Once she saw it was Jaci, she calmed down, letting out a sigh of relief.
 

“Thank goodness,” she said, pulling Jaci into a tight hug. She pushed Jaci back, still holding onto her shoulders. “You’re by yourself, right?”

Jaci nodded. “Look, the quicker we do this, the quicker you can get out of here.”
 

“Right. Follow me.”

After making sure no one was paying attention to them, Bright led Jaci off the trail. The forest grew thick and wild the farther they went, and the sounds of people talking and laughing were soon swallowed by the foliage. Bright had pinned red ribbons to the trees so she could remember which way she went. She removed each of them as they passed, and Jaci admired Bright’s dedication to Roshanak. Jaci wondered if she would ever be as devoted to something as that.
 

“How did you get Roshanak out here?” asked Jaci as they stepped over a small stream. Her breathing was growing ragged from carrying the leg and taking this small hike.

“It wasn’t easy,” Bright said. “Roshanak set the garages on fire, and I managed to put her in a truck and drive her out of here.”