Chapter 6
Chapter Six
ODESSA
A few hours earlier…
Someone was burning the Menagerie.
At least, those were the words that raced through Odessa’s mind as she jolted awake to the acrid scent of smoke in her nostrils.
She jumped away from the walls of her cottage, where she had eventually settled in the late hours of the morning after recalling that she had left the stranger’s bag sitting on her doorstep before her transformation.
As a swan, she was unable to open the door and toss the bag inside, and rather than leaving it lying out where Boris might come across it, she had dragged it by the leather straps into the grass behind her.
It took her a moment to realize that the smoke was coming not from the Menagerie or the cottage, but from the bag itself. Tendrils of dark grey curled and twisted as they rose lazily from inside.
The house isn’t burning yet, but it will be if the grass catches fire.
Odessa snatched up the straps and pulled the bag out from the grass and onto the hard dirt, then used her beak and teeth to tip it bottom-end up so that the contents would spill out.
A golden egg rolled down the path, wobbling side to side, and slowly came to a stop.
Large cracks ran along its surface, and the smoke was coming from a tiny hole near the narrower end of the egg.
What in Kovskia is that?
She edged closer, craning her long neck to try to get a better look.
The smoke stopped, and she leaned over the dark hole, then jumped backwards with a startled honk as the space was suddenly filled by a sparkling, sapphire eye.
The vertical reptilian pupil searched around for a fraction of a second before latching onto her.
Odessa held her breath, unable to look away.
The eye blinked once and disappeared, only to be replaced by a black snout edged with tiny teeth that gnawed on the edges of the shell.
Little claws poked out as well, scrabbling and tearing away at the golden prison.
Finally, with a satisfied chirp, the creature climbed out, pushing away the remaining bits of shell, and blinked its wide blue eyes at her.
It’s…a dragon. Odessa closed her eyes and shook out her feathers. I must still be dreaming. I’m going to open my eyes, and this will all be gone.
She did so, only to find that the little dragon was still very much there.
He sat, no larger than a kitten, with iridescent black scales covering his body and his tail curled around his legs.
He tilted his head curiously at her, then stretched out his own pair of leathery wings, attempting to shake them out as she had done but falling forward onto his nose.
He pushed himself back up with a disoriented shake of his head and sneezed, sending out a tiny ball of flame that landed harmlessly on the dirt and extinguished itself.
Odessa let out a honking laugh, which the dragon attempted to mimic. He sounded more like a distressed cockatiel than a swan, but at the proud light that filled his eyes, Odessa knew she was in love.
“Odessa.”
She jumped at the sound of Boris’s voice approaching and was momentarily frozen with panic.
The last thing he needs is a dragon. Who knows what kind of horrible things he would do to him? Or with him. But what do I do? He’s a baby; it’s not like I can just tell him to hide.
“Odessa!”
The crunch of boots on gravel grew louder, and she could see Boris’s tall, lean form approaching. Odessa made a swift, last-minute decision. She used her wings to sweep together the bits of golden evidence with the dragon, then sat on them, praying that the hatchling would cooperate.
Please don’t try to get out. Please just sit still. Boris can’t know you’re here.
Her belly and legs grew warm from the little hatchling’s heat, but he thankfully stayed still.
Boris stopped a few feet away, crossing his arms as he looked down at her with a displeased frown creasing his forehead.
For a moment, Odessa felt she was a little girl again, desperate to please her hero.
Her father, charismatic and handsome, was liked by everyone, and she had once thought herself the luckiest girl in the world to be his daughter.
She had been eager to earn his favor, craving a smile or word of praise.
In her eyes, he could do no wrong…until she learned the awful truth.
“You didn’t finish cleaning the primate exhibit,” he said as a greeting.
Gray streaks peppered the dark hair at his temples, the only sign of aging on his smooth, distinguished face.
His dark eyes were bright with intelligence, the kind of genius that drove a man to either madness or social awkwardness.
And since Boris Rothchild navigated public gatherings with a comfortable ease, that left madness as the only other option.
“The nights are shorter in the summer,” Odessa directed her thoughts at him, coating the mental words with polite sarcasm. “A factor I’m sure someone of your intellect would have accounted for when deciding to bless me with wings between the hours of sunrise and sunset.”
If he was bothered by her comment, he didn’t let it show on his face. “See to it that it’s done tonight.”
The dragon shifted underneath her and hot air brushed her leg, cutting off the snarky response that she wanted to give. “Yes, sir.”
“Prince Dmitri is hosting a celebration for his birthday next month,” Boris continued.
“I will want all the enclosures spotless, and the animals prepared for exhibitions and demonstrations. The queen has also requested use of the grounds to host a dinner and ball as part of the festivities, so we should begin planning accordingly.”
He’s what?
“This of course means that additional groundskeepers will be present over the coming weeks. You will need to ensure that all the animals are kept behind gates.” He looked at her pointedly. “We don’t want a repeat of what happened with the prince from Helyos.”
Odessa cringed inwardly. The first time Sonya had managed to escape her enclosure, she had nearly met an untimely end when she charged the campsite of a traveling prince. It was only due to Katrin’s swift thinking and intervention that the boar was still alive to make trouble.
“How long are his guests planning to stay?”
“I believe he hopes at least one will stay forever.” Boris snickered at his own joke. “As for the rest, the event is planned to span the course of at least a week.”
Ah. This must be his solution to his mother’s pressuring. He’s trying to orchestrate a situation where he can meet his future wife. It’s a little ambitious to think he’s going to convince her to love him in just a week, but I suppose royals approach marriage differently than the rest of us.
“I’m sure you understand how important it is for you to give Prince Dmitri and his guests plenty of space during their stay. I know you and the prince have a…friendly relationship, and I would hate for any potential matches to get the wrong idea.”
“I’m sure they often look at swans and feel romantically threatened,” she mentally drawled at him.
He leveled her with a look. “You know what I mean, Odessa. Don’t be difficult. It’s extremely important to Her Majesty that Prince Dmitri find a wife before his coronation.”
“Then she can take it up with him. I’m certainly not standing in his way.”
“See that it stays that way. It would truly be a shame if something were to happen to your animal friends due to your inability to listen.”
His threat was not lost on her, and Odessa shivered, causing the dragon underneath her to stir.
“I understand.”
His look softened into a smile, and despite knowing that it was false, Odessa couldn’t help the way her heart leaped at the sight.
“I’m sure. You were always such a smart girl, Odessa.
It truly pains me to see you this way, but consequences must be served.
Keep showing me this kind of behavior, though, and I’m sure circumstances can change. ”
“I understand,” she repeated, keeping her thoughts to herself as she added, I understand that my worth extends only as far as my usefulness to you, and that you never really loved me—not in a way that means anything. You don’t turn people you love into swans.
Boris was already striding away, apparently unconcerned with hearing her response.
Which is fine. The sooner he goes away, the better. Now I just need to figure out what to do with a baby dragon.
Once her father was safely out of sight, Odessa stood. The dragon darted forward between her legs, stumbling over his oversized claws and nearly tripping over his long, ridged tail as he turned in a tight circle to face her. He tilted his head, blinking round, impossibly blue eyes, and chirped.
“Are you hungry?” Talking to him like any of her other animal charges came as instinctively as breathing. “I’m not sure what kind of diet you need, though I’m assuming one of the carnivorous variety.”
The dragon’s head tilted from side to side like a curious pup hearing an unfamiliar sound, and suddenly her mind was filled with a bright, child-like voice.
“Hungry.”
She stumbled backwards in surprise, falling on her feathered rear. “You can talk?”
“Hungry,” he repeated.
“I guess that answers that question. What kind of food do you like?”
“Food.”
“That’s entirely unhelpful.” She waddled in the direction of the woods. “Come on. I’m sure we can find you something. Just don’t tell the other animals that you’re getting fed in the middle of the day. They might claim it’s special treatment.”
He followed behind, wagging his rear end back and forth to mimic her waddle. “Special.”
If she weren’t a swan, Odessa would have grinned. “Yes, I think you are.”
Several hours later, she was beginning to regret her choice to keep the little dragon.
She sank wearily to the ground under a bush, watching with exhausted amusement as the hatchling cavorted around the small clearing, chasing a large orange butterfly.
His black scales shimmered in the afternoon sun, catching rainbows of light as he turned this way and that.
He had finally figured out the use of his legs, and he moved with a lithe, feline grace when he wasn’t trying to mimic her waddle.
She had followed him on a meandering path through the woods as he ate his fill of berries, nuts, and whatever insects he could find. She was surprised, at first, that he showed no interest in hunting anything more substantial, but then again, he was the size of an 8-week old kitten.
It’s not as if I have a significant amount of dragon knowledge or experience to draw from—if you had asked me yesterday, I would have said they were creatures of legend. I’ll just trust that his instincts are correct.
Morning turned into afternoon, and after a quick snooze in a spot of sunshine with the dragon curled up beside her, Odessa roused them both.
“Come on, little one. It’s time to get back.”
He yawned and stretched, extending his obsidian claws. “Where?”
“Back to my home. I have to be ready to work tonight.”
“Home?” He waddled after her as she led him back through the woods to the lake.
“It’s where I live. Where you can live, too, if you want.” She paused, looking over her shoulder at him. “Though I think it’s about time we gave you a name. Unless you have one already?”
His wide blue eyes were clueless as he blinked.
“Right then. Well, what about—hey, come back here!”
Something scurried away in the brush beside them, and the dragon scampered off after it. He tore through the low branches and leaves faster than Odessa could keep up. She followed his trail of broken twigs to the lake, then stopped short.
The stranger from the night before had returned.
He looked much healthier than when she had last seen him, pale and lifeless as Dmitri carried him away.
Color had returned to his cheeks, and even from a distance she could see the bright curiosity in his eyes as he crouched down, holding out a welcoming hand to the dragon.
The hatchling inched forward, sniffing, and the next thing Odessa knew, the stranger had snatched up her dragon and was cradling him to his chest.
Oh no, you don’t.
Without thinking twice, she puffed out her chest, spread her wings wide, and charged.