Chapter 1 #2
I snorted out a laugh. “I’ll call for help if I need a rescue. Thank you.”
The two couples both had dragons in their care, from eggs that had hatched days before. The tiny creatures were more than a handful, and that was putting it lightly.
Mayor Tommins only objected minorly, these days. He’d grown fond of the dragons, too.
After a few hugs and heartfelt goodbyes, the group drifted out of the pub. I could hear their voices outside the door, trailing down the road, eventually dispersing altogether.
I grinned to myself. What a magical day.
Aside from that small bump at the end…
I fully intended to pretend that the strange encounter never happened.
Even if striking, gold eyes were still seared into my memory.
Brushing those thoughts away, I slipped into the comfort of routine.
I made my rounds, quickly tidying up the space and extinguishing any lingering fire in the fireplace before picking up the dragon box and tucking it under my arm.
I saved any extensive cleaning for the morning—Tandor and Linc could handle that. That’s what employees were for.
The lock audibly clicked into place as I tugged the door shut.
Immediately, the hairs on the back of my neck rose.
I knew it instinctively—I wasn’t alone.
I glanced covertly over my shoulder, and then in the other direction, trying to spot whichever folk was watching me.
I saw nobody.
There was nothing out of place, just the normal cloak of night settling over the town.
“Think I’m imagining things, Brambleby? Am I losing my mind?” I asked aloud.
The dragon didn’t respond, of course, but I felt better hearing my own voice break the eerie silence.
“Better get on our way, then. Everyone is asleep.”
A twig snapped somewhere out of my sight. I jumped, my heart skipping a beat.
Imagining things. Only imagining things. It was probably just a squirrel.
Clutching the box to my chest with both arms, I walked to my cottage as fast as I could without breaking into a full-blown run. I didn’t want to jostle the dragon, to startle him into attacking me. Or worse, to cause him any discomfort.
My breath clouded in front of me in quick puffs, the air cold enough to snatch my breath and nearly freeze it, but not quite.
The entire way, I resisted the urge to glance over my shoulder.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being followed.
But surely, that was nonsense.
The sound of my hooves clacking against the cobblestones was deafening in the quiet night. Even the rustling of my cloak and the fabric of my trousers hardly registered in my alert ears.
I walked faster.
“We’re almost there, little guy,” I said quietly. “Then we can relax.”
Brambleby rustled in his box. Weirdly enough, the action made me feel better. Like I wasn’t alone.
I nearly jumped for joy when my cottage came into view.
Nestled a small stretch beyond the edge of the forest, my cottage was a comforting sight. The outside was coated with crawling ivy, the strands reaching for the sky with spindly tendrils.
My mind might have been playing tricks on me, but the cottage looked ominous in the dark. Like it was haunted. Inhabited by spirits. Even the enchanted lantern I kept out front couldn't chase away the clinging darkness, and the burning candle inside did nothing to shine through the windows.
I pulled the door open as fast as possible, slamming it shut behind me and latching the deadbolt. I tugged on the doorknob twice to be sure it was locked. I even kicked it for good measure.
It held.
I was safe.
I let out a heavy sigh, trying to force my heart to slow and my trembling hands to still.
If I thought I heard a rustling outside, I brushed it off as a wandering critter.
I didn’t even bother to wash my hooves as I usually did as soon as I entered my home—I had more important things to worry about than a few stray specks of mud on my floor.
“Alright, Brambleby. You’ll protect me from any monsters, right?” I asked as I set the box on my dining table, removed the lid, and set it aside.
Bright, alert eyes peered back at me. The dragon sat surrounded by shell fragments, simply watching me. He opened his jaw and spread it wide. Tiny, razor sharp teeth gleamed at me.
I braced myself, preparing for an immediate, painful death.
Thank the fates, death didn’t reach for me. Not yet.
The dragon simply yawned, letting out a tiny puff of air before his mouth fell shut again. He rose to his feet and clumsily crawled out of the box. His feet slipped against the wooden surface of the table, scrambling for purchase.
He gave up trying when his feet slipped out from under him, and he plopped onto his stomach.
He looked up at me with sad, discouraged eyes.
My heart cracked.
“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry, little sweets. I would’ve prepared the place if I knew you were coming. Can I—” I reached for him with tentative hands.
The dragon didn’t snap at me, so I considered that a good sign.
“I’m going to pick you up now,” I warned. “Please don’t bite my fingers off. I need those.”
Brambleby didn’t even snap at me once. I was proud of the little guy. He simply allowed me to slip my hands under his body, hoist him up, and tuck him under my arm. His legs hung limply.
He seemed almost… happy to be carried around like this.
Strange beast.
I kept my movements slow and calm. I wouldn’t push my luck.
“Now, where should I put you?”
As I wandered around my cottage looking for the comfiest, coziest place to set the dragon, a branch snapped somewhere outside.
My muscles snapped to attention.
My gaze shot to the window, where thin curtains were pulled aside, allowing a lovely view of the forest during the day.
But also, I suddenly realized, allowing a peek inside my cottage at night.
I rushed to tug every curtain shut. I checked the windows, too, making sure they were snugly closed and latched.
For the first time maybe ever, I wished that I didn’t live alone. I wished for the comfort and protection that another folk could provide.
I glanced at Bramble tucked under my arm. He didn’t seem concerned in the slightest, just dangling there, eyes blinking slowly.
I wasn’t sure if he had any fight in him. He seemed so docile. So sleepy.
The poor guy had just hatched, after all—I couldn’t really blame him for wanting to rest.
I resumed my search for comfort with my muscles tighter than usual.
Ultimately, I decided that the comfiest place for Brambleby was right next to me in bed.
Praying to the Old Gods that he wouldn’t go rogue in the middle of the night and maul me to death, I settled the dragon into the pillows and tucked him in.