4. Vlomir.
Vlomir.
HARLOW
T he captain’s door closes with finality, and I find myself alone on the upper deck, a stolen book in hand.
I stare at it, confused by his actions. He stole it for me.
It’s a love story about a sailor crossing oceans to save a woman he met once.
Disgustingly romantic and unrealistic, but I would be lying if I said the premise hadn’t intrigued me.
And now, thanks to Jayce Hawkins, I’ll get to finish it. I feel the sudden urge to throw the book overboard, but decide to cradle it to my chest instead. Books are precious. And I really want to finish it, disgusting love story or not.
I make my way to the galley to get a drink of water before going to bed and find Kuroki seated at the table, a lone candle melting to the stub in front of him.
“You’re already back?” he asks.
I sigh. “Yes. Someone mistook me for a prostitute.”
He shrugs. “I would be flattered. The Tender Caress’ courtesans are the prettiest in the city.”
“I’ve noticed. The captain disappeared with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Dark-skinned, silky hair, red lips and a dress that looks extremely expensive?”
“Yes.”
“That’s just the Madam,” he says. “Jayce goes to the Caress to buy intel on the other fire scroungers when he needs a direction. Dragons don’t die every day, you know?”
“I know,” I say dryly. “I’m a dragoner.”
“Oh, right.”
“So, they weren’t… having fun?”
I don’t know why I’m asking. It’s really not my business who the captain takes for a ‘ tumble in the sheets ’.
“Nah. Jayce likes men.”
His eyes linger on me as he says it, and I blush. I doubt I’m to the captain’s taste. To a fire scrounger like him who spends his days flirting with dragons and trading secrets in pleasure houses, I must appear incredibly boring.
“And the Madam doesn’t sell her favors anymore,” Kuroki continues. “She deals in secrets and rumors now. Bet you he’ll wake me at sunrise for takeoff. We’ll take you to your first job. Have you ever seen a dragon up close? Most dragoners I’ve met have only studied them in books.”
“I have.” But I don’t feel like talking about it, so I deflect with a question of my own. “What are you doing still up, alone in the galley?”
It looks like he’s been staring at the burning candle for a long time. The mug in front of him is empty and cold.
He watches the open door longingly. “I was hoping Wilbur would make an appearance. I made tea and… I think he went to bed early.”
I smile, my heart giving a painful twinge. “I would love some tea.”
“It’s cold now.”
“I don’t care. Also, I got a cheesy love story here.” I tap my fingers on the book. “And a courtesan told me it gets dirty halfway through. I guess that’s why it was on their bookshelf. Want to read it with me?”
Kuroki’s eyes light up. “Hell yeah! I’ll make fresh tea.”
And just like that, I spend a better night reading with Kuroki than at the Tender Caress. I am, after all, only a boring dragoner.
The bell rings at sunrise. I rub my tired eyes and look through the small round window in my cabin. A heavy fog covers Nethermere. This is the problem with having canals all over the city.
Kuroki and I read until late in the night, eager to reach the interesting parts of the book, and then we giggled like schoolgirls as we took turns reading out loud during the steamy scenes.
The bell rings again, and I put my clothes on to get some breakfast. When I reach the galley, only the captain, Wilbur, and Gia are up.
“Have you slept at all?” I ask the cook.
She’s still wearing her beautiful dress from last night.
“Oh yeah, I slept at the Tender Caress,” she says. “Well, a little…”
I snort and accept the plate she offers me.
I try not to look at the captain. He still pisses me off. I made Kuroki swear he wouldn’t tell anyone about the book we read last night. But when I finally look up, I see the knowing look on the captain’s face and a shadow of a smile. I focus my attention back on my plate.
The rest of the crew trickle tiredly in to eat breakfast. Alara and Freddy look worse for wear. They apparently indulged too much in drinks—and other pleasures I’d rather not know about. Kuroki comes out of his cabin so late, the captain forces him to take his breakfast in the control room.
“We need to get going. We have a wounded dragon to track!” he bellows.
Alara offers him a scathing look and rubs her temple.
I stand at the bow as the Blunder rises through the thick fog half an hour later. Only when we reach a decent altitude does the white castle appear, piercing the clouds. We leave Nethermere unseen by its inhabitants.
After watching the view from the bow for a while, I find my way to my favorite seat with a blanket—the morning air is crisp so close to the mountains. I open a book on my lap. This one is not a romance, but a recently published study on dragons from one of my professors at the university.
But before I can indulge in academic reading, the captain has appeared in front of me, holding a map of the Spine.
“Our dragon has been seen flying above this village after the fight,” he says, pointing to a location. “Two fire scrounger crews are already after him. He went deeper in the mountains.”
“To die,” I add.
“Yes. Apparently, his wounds were extensive.”
Dragons rarely leave a fight before one of them is dead, but if this one was young…
“Describe him for me,” I say, closing the book in my hands.
“Thirty-feet wingspan, dark yellow scales, long snout. His territory covers a few miles north of Nethermere.”
“Vlomir. He must have tested his luck by going too far east.”
Like most dragoners, I know all the names by heart, physical traits, and territories of the hundreds of dragons accounted for on the kingdom of Hargos.
The numbers vary slightly depending on the month.
Some die, some are born or cross the human borders in search of a new territory.
Some of us devote our entire career to track and account for new dragons.
This is why the captain hired me. I’m the expert.
“Yes,” he says. “That’s what the other fire scroungers called him. They went looking here and here.” He points to extensive areas on the map.
I shake my head, frowning. “These are his usual locations in his territory, but if he was dying… Vlomir first appeared twenty-five years ago south-west of the Spine. We theorized he must have hatched somewhere around here.” I gesture over to a third zone.
“He’s very young. And if he’s dying, he might go back to his hatching ground. ”
The captain smiles and rolls the map. “Very well. We’ll head there. The fire scroungers’ code relies on a first-come, first-served basis. The others already have a head start, so I hope you’re right.”
I nod gravely; all too aware of my role.
Dragons do not die often. Humanity is not stupid enough to hunt them—past attempts resulted in great losses for us—and they live very long lives.
The oldest surviving dragons are over four hundred years old, dwelling deep in their lairs.
It can sometimes take weeks or even months between the death of one.
The captain sets course for our new location.
“You were right. Good job, Your Royal Highness,” the captain tells me two days later as we find the carcass of Vlomir.
The small dragon, no bigger than the Blunder , flew close to his hatching ground and died at the bottom of a ravine, near the blue water. His dark blood has dried over the white pebbles, painting a stark image of death over the beauty of nature.
For the first time, I don’t have it in me to get mad at the nickname. I’m too busy staring at the felled dragon.
“Is it your first one?” the captain asks.
“My first dead one.” I’m well acquainted with the living.
“Does it bother you to see the end of one of your gods?”
That takes me out of my stupor.
“Gods?” I snort. “No. It would be easier if they were. But they are creatures of flesh and bones, with all the flaws that go with it.”
The captain says nothing, and when I finally look up from the carcass below us, he’s watching me.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re the first dragoner I’ve hired who seems to have some sense.”
“Thank you?”
“Come on. We’ll need to get to the body with the rope ladders.”
Freddy and Alara are anchoring the Blunder to the side of the ravine to make sure she doesn’t sway as we make our way down.
I swallow my fear and lower myself to the rope ladder after the captain. It started drizzling an hour ago and my hair is plastered to my cheeks and neck.
“Keep your eyes open,” he says. “I don’t want to hire a new dragoner already.”
I look down and find him watching me from the swaying rope ladder. He’s infuriating.
“Wouldn’t you love to see me fall?” I retort.
“Trust me, I wouldn’t. And at this height, you’d break a leg, at best. I’d need to pay for your recovery.”
“Fuck you,” I say.
He laughs, distracting me, and then my foot slips on the rope and I go down a step faster than expected. Before I have time to blink, the captain has climbed behind me, his warm body against mine.
I gasp, surprised by his sudden proximity, my fear of heights forgotten.
“Be careful,” he growls close to my ear. “I’m serious. Don’t break a leg.”
I can’t help the shiver that rakes my body. He smells surprisingly good for a fire scrounger. Sweet and flowery… I wonder if he washes his hair with something…
I snap out of it and mumble, “I’m sorry, Captain.”
“Call me Jayce. I’ll let you go now. Hold on tight.”
My face is on fire for the rest of the descent. I avoid his gaze as I set foot on the pebbled beach. The ravine is dark under the heavy rain clouds.
Vlomir has fallen half into the river. His body is already cold and as hard as a rock, thanks to rigor mortis. He’s been dead for a day or two.
Kuroki and Wilbur are lowering a crate containing the tools we need with ropes. They’re all watching me now. This is my time to shine.
“Very well,” I say. “It looks like what killed him is the wound along his spinal cord—a bigger dragon must have fallen on him from the sky—which means the liquid-fire sac must be intact. He died on his belly, so we’ll have to go through the ribs. Do you have the tools for that?”
“We do,” says the Cap—Jayce.
Freddy pulls out a chirurgical saw longer than my arm and an iron mallet.
“It’s too late for the brain matter,” I continue.
“He’s been dead for too long. But we can bottle up blood and piss.
Lately, bone marrow has also proven effective in curing some diseases, so the healers are buying it in bulk.
But it’s harder to extract. We can cut a few bones and see what we can do later. I brought a few tools…”
“Piss?” Jayce asks.
I nod thoughtfully. “Dragons have been eating cattle more than usual in the planes, and piss and females’ pheromones are a good distraction.
Spray it somewhere on their territory, and they’ll forget about food for a time.
I can harvest it. I know where to find the bladder and your spare extractor will do the trick. ”
He laughs. “Fire scroungers and piss dealers. Alright. Let’s get to work.”
I watch with a morbid fascination as Freddy and Alara cut open the dragon’s skin, before breaking the large ribs with the mallet. It’s a disgusting process, but they seem to be used to it. From what I gathered, they’ve been doing it for three years.
They put a few bones on the side for me, as big as my legs, to harvest the marrow later. I’ve only seen it dried and powdered down, but I know the theory behind the extracting process.
I borrow some gloves and poke inside the dragon’s entrails. The liquid-fire sac is easy to locate, nestled between the massive lungs. I guide the captain’s tool into it, and we start the extraction.
Once it’s done, I make my way to Vlomir’s lower half.
His giant leg stretches beneath him, allowing me access to part of his underside.
Freddy follows my instructions and makes a narrow but deep cut.
I insert the tool and push. The dragon’s insides offer more resistance than I expected, and he has to help me.
We realize with delight that we reached the bladder on the first try. Freddy smiles.
“Well done, little dragoner,” he says.
I hide my grin in my sleeve.
The piss smells horrible. No wonder dragons can detect it from miles away. That’s how they mark their territory.
Everyone works in silence and fills the crate with organic matter. Kuroki and Wilbur pull it up from time to time to unload it. Vlomir was young, but we still get five bottles of liquid-fire—a small fortune.
By the time we’re done, the dragon’s carcass looks even more broken than when we found him. I stare at him, a little nauseous. I reach with a hand and caress his snout. His fiery eyes will be closed for
ever.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to the dead creature.
“Don’t be,” says Jayce behind me. I thought he had gone up the rope ladder already. “He’s dead.”
“And yet we desecrated his corpse.”
“If you died out here in the wilds, and we left your body in the forest, would you resent the worms who fed on your rotting flesh? Would you hate the birds who built their nest with your hair?”
I never thought about it that way.
“No,” I say.
“We are but worms to the dragons. Life recycles death. That’s how it’s always been in nature. Don’t let your human principles get in the way of that. Now let’s go, Your Royal Highness.”
Jayce lets me climb the rope ladder first and follows behind me.
As we take off, he adds, “You didn’t puke on your first job. That’s impressive.”
“My adoptive father is a surgeon,” I say. “I spent my youth helping him. A dead dragon is easier to stomach than a patient bleeding out.”
“You’re tougher than I expected. You might really make it as a fire scrounger.”
I say nothing, but I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face and the pride that swells in my chest.