Chapter Twenty
The next days passed in a blur. We continued our routine of caretaking and saving money. So far, we’d made three hundred seventy-five from selling creams at the festival and eighty-four from the bouquets with Maggie.
I’d received my thirty-day notice two weeks ago. Relying on the fundraiser and market, we only needed… a lot more.
It’s fine. Everything is fine.
The creatures remained the same and feedings didn’t change, but our schedules were jam-packed. From financing, budgeting, and pulling my hair out, I spent most of my time figuring out how much more money we’d need. You know, so poachers didn’t ransack us.
There’d been a time (roughly a couple weeks ago) when being back at the sanctuary would’ve sounded like a fever dream.
I couldn’t have imagined it. But with how far we’d come and how much these animals needed us, I couldn’t lose them.
Somewhere along this gut-punching journey, I’m afraid I might have started to like it here.
Which had led me to the meeting I attended with Faye Augustus earlier in the morning to discuss the fundraiser.
Unfortunately, despite my hesitation and concern, I’d let Laken talk me into it.
He made it sound like his mother needed this and it’d make her feel important.
Besides, since being home, I’d revisited people and made a few connections (if you could call them that).
Maybe, perhaps, if I manifested hard enough, it would work.
Faye, being who she was, already had most of the details hammered out.
We walked around the town square, the field where the fundraiser would be held, and she pointed out where different vendors could set up booths. Each square foot, she saw as a potential space to put something to bring in more money. I, however, saw memories.
My mother loved the square; she enjoyed bringing paints out on an old blanket and spending her day here with me.
Her terrible, no-good paintings made me feel more confident in my own skills and abilities.
When we got hungry, we were surrounded by options.
Wanted to go shopping? Just down the block.
Wanted to listen to troubadours? Perfect place for you, too!
I sighed, realizing how much I missed those times.
Being here with Faye brought something different out.
Her trying to help me and guide me as she’d always done.
Something unfurled in my chest, and I tried my best to act like it wasn’t there.
I agreed and nodded when she made suggestions. I answered when I needed to.
But fundraising wasn’t my expertise, not even a mile within it.
I didn’t care about what color tablecloths we used, or if silverware came prewrapped.
There wasn’t a difference between the ivory napkins and the cream ones.
And for the love of the Gods, I couldn’t physically imagine the setup like she could.
Everything blended together in my head, so I let her keep it organized in her mind.
By the way her smile glowed and her eyes shined, she didn’t seem to mind the job.
Besides, I had a birthday party to focus on.
The Lockes’ house, the birthday party location, had a spacious bathroom for me to dress into costume.
Surrounded by brick, the room would have been dark, but the raised window along the wall allowed more than enough natural light in.
The scent of their rose candles filled the space, smelling like the essence of fine riches.
A large black tub sat behind me, new and unscathed with gold handles and drain.
Charcoal tiles chilled my bare feet as I stripped and opened my costume in a hurry because being naked in a stranger’s house felt vulnerable.
The costume—the warrior princess from Olive’s favorite books—was actually pretty cool for a kid and I respected her decisions.
I hadn’t told Laken what exactly we were dressing up as, afraid he’d refuse, so I prayed he wasn’t too mad when he opened his bag. All of my focus went to my current problem—these Gods-damned leather pants were fitting like a second skin I couldn’t pull past my knees.
Sweat beaded on my hairline and I knew the time for my last resort had come.
Squat—jump—wiggle—wiggle. I repeated as necessary, bending at the knees and yanking as I jumped, shaking my hips in with a little rocking-side-to-side action.
When they finally gave over my ass, I dropped my arms to my side and tilted my head back, panting. “Fucking hell.”
Onto the next pieces: the leather vest and scabbard with a fake sword. Those I added easily. Looking in their mirror,
I felt good in the costume. Being a warrior princess made me feel as though I could slit some throats, kick some necks off—take names and kick ass if you will. However, fitting my thick wavy hair into the black braided wig wasn’t going to happen as smoothly.
Thankfully, whoever was supposed to be dressing in the costume had thought of that and stuffed at least twenty hairpins into the bag.
It took twelve. The hair did itch, and added heat, but it made the fit.
Go big or go home, right? Lastly, I topped it with the small, dainty silver crown adorned with silver jewels. Time to party.
Opening the door, I stopped dead in my tracks the second my eyes locked on to Laken.
Laken, my dragon sidekick. Behind the black mask painted to look like dragon scales hanging over his eyes, his blue eyes narrowed. Unable to determine how mad he was, I braced myself. In my defense…
“This is quite possibly the best job I’ve ever gotten.”
What? My eyes widened.
“The Warrior Princess is a classic,” he said. “I love Axron.” Axron. The dragon.
Observing his full outfit, he wore an onyx metallic scaled shirt with spiked shoulders.
Two little black horns stood atop his head.
He even wore black wings on his back. Luckily, he wore regular black pants.
Gods, I couldn’t have imagined Laken trying to slither into leather pants. Or… maybe I could’ve.
“You do him justice.”
Only after his confession did he fully examine me in my costume. Noticing his attention, I spun for him. I knew my ass popped in these pants. A troublesome grin split his lips as he came my way, offering an arm. “Come on.” He nodded. “You know you look good.”
I didn’t know I looked good—I knew he’d think I did. Slight difference.
“Oh!” I’d almost forgotten and reached for my scabbard. “Look at this.” I pulled out my fake sword. “After you showed me your moves, maybe I could actually hurt you with this thing.”
“Whoa there, killer.” Laken snatched it from me. “If you’re going to swing a sword, you must do it right.” Taking a step back, he gave himself a safe distance before slinging the sword around his wrist and between his fingers. Yeah, yeah, cool assassin shit.
I yanked the sword back. “Show-off.”
Unbeknownst to me, our relationship was hard to shake. Impossible, one might say. He unraveled me, my walls crumbled around him. Any defenses I’d built shattered. It took one conversation and I’d lean right into anything he said, like a trance. I lost all direction, all sense.
You know when you say you aren’t tired, but then you curl up in bed and wrap yourself up in your favorite warm, coziest blanket? You feel so comfortable and at home you don’t want to move again. Slowly, you start to drift off and fall asleep before even realizing it.
That’s what being around Laken felt like, like a warm and cozy blanket. And I could never say no to a good warm and cozy blanket.
Olive’s mother, Freya Locke, materialized in front of us, looking a bit frantic.
“Oh, thank the Gods.” She sighed but wasted no time in grabbing our wrists and directing us to the back door.
“Just in time.” Laken and I threw each other a puzzled look; at least she’d missed the sword-swinging battle.
Meeting her again and seeing her so frazzled made more sense after seeing her at the tavern.
I’d thought she’d been in an uproar about finding someone to dress up, but it was coming to my realization she might actually be that intense.
We made it to the door, and she instructed us to wait.
Tables were set up around the yard, one stacked with cake and plates.
The others sat four guests and were set up for stations such as painting.
That’d probably be one of our jobs. Family chatted and little ones ran screaming around with ribbon wands and bubbles.
Bright and cool weather made for a perfect outside party, the sun shining enough to be beautiful but not hot.
What an odd thing, I thought, how we love the sun only when it gives exactly enough.
As Freya gathered her daughter and her friends, I leaned into Laken. “Thank you for doing this, by the way.” I paused. “Since it has nothing to do with illegal creature catchers.”
He scoffed. “Anytime, McCarthen. You know you can always ask me to dress up for a seven-year-old’s birthday.” The tone of his voice turned sharp.
Too focused on avoiding eye contact and pretending not to care, I almost missed Freya introducing us. “Olive, you have some special guests.” It wasn’t until Laken entered the yard that I realized I was supposed to be following him.
“Princess Rayva! Princess Rayva!” tiny little voices shrieked. “Axron! You came! You came!”
Okay, Reece, onto your princess shit. Because Rayva was a warrior princess. She wasn’t overflowing with good graces. She could be kind, in her own way.
Offering a slight grin, I nodded. “Well, of course I came. I wouldn’t have missed it.”
Olive, a blonde little thing with gapped teeth, smiled so wide her cheeks might’ve torn. She waved a tiny hand for me to come closer; I leaned in. “Will… uh, can you come play with us?”
Standing up, I straightened my crown and spine. “Oh, I’d love to play.” I gently patted my dragon’s head. “Let’s go, Axron.” I could get used to this.
Axron, to my surprise, flapped his wings and followed obediently.
As I’d seen earlier, a table with paint was perched toward the back, on the opposite side of the adults.
But the colors available were colors from the book, the same shades Rayva painted with.
A dark, misty teal blue, olive green, mustard yellow, maroon, rusted orange, and black.
Remembering I dressed as Rayva, I said to Olive, “These are my favorite colors; you must have good taste.”
Laken sat on one side of me, Olive on the other. The girl brightened, searching her party crowd. “Don’t tell, but my mom picked them out.”
My eyes too scanned for Freya, finding her watching from near the door with a look of contentment.
“Can dragons paint?” Laken whispered in my ear.
I shook my head. Everyone knows dragons don’t paint.
We painted while Laken and I entertained the children with stories from our adventures. Because we worked so well together, the tales fell into place much like a puzzle. Axron could talk in the book, so he could speak freely. Unfortunately.
Sweat dripped under my breasts from the leather vest; it captured heat and did not permit much breathing. The wig felt itchy, but I endured. Strength must persevere after all.
“Axron!” A little boy shouted from the end of the table. “Can you give us rides?”
Laken’s head popped up from where he watched me paint. For whatever reason, presumably tapping into his inner child, excitement took over his body as he jumped from his seat.
“Princess Rayva, ride Axron! Ride Axron! Show us how to do it, please!” The voices chanted. “Please! Please! Please!”
Finally, a fantastic idea—if I weren’t in skin-tight leathers.
“What? You nervous?” Laken whispered as I came around his shoulder.
“No.” I shoved his shoulders down. “Not for you, but these pants are a bit snug.” Praying I didn’t give these children more of a show than I’d gotten paid for, I leapt. “Do your job, dragon. Fly.”
Of course, I took this job because I needed money; lives literally depended on it. But… using Laken as my personal pet had its advantages.
As if our lives depended on accurately portraying our characters—Laken and I flew.
Around the yard. Around parents. Dodging tables, we were followed by an entourage of cheering children.
Thrusting my fake sword into the air, we gave it every bit of our all and then some.
If Laken could breathe fire, I truly believed he would have.
The children took turns riding on Laken’s back, the image of him in a dragon costume running around in the sun forever branded into my mind. I stood along the edge of the house, hiding happily in the shade and eating cake. It didn’t take long for Freya to find me.
“She’s going to be talking about this for months.” Her face beamed with something more I couldn’t name.
Glancing at the rest of the crowd, I laughed. “I don’t think she’ll be the only one talking about it.”
“You might be right about that one.” Freya paused. “Thank you for this. I don’t think the original people I hired could’ve done as well.”
The children leapt down and cheered over again. Laken showed no signs of being worn out. “Well, I think someone had as much fun as the children did.”
I left it unsaid, but I thought I might’ve had a better time than any of them.
Olive asked me to read The Warrior Princess to end the party and I couldn’t say no, not that I wanted to, anyway. “Far away, in a land riddled with dark magic, a warrior princess awoke a sleeping dragon.”
Maybe it was Laken kneeling at my side, or the birthday girl watching me with smiling eyes, but despite everything, I begged the sun to shine for a moment longer.