Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
“I swear it’s like you want to be captured and locked away,” Iolana grumbled, not for the first time.
She’d harangued me after the male left and again while she prepared for the evening repast, a ritual that involved bathing and blowing hot air at her hair until dried.
I’d enjoyed playing with that device—the heated wind very pleasant on my flesh—while she dressed in a pair of pants without holes and a shirt that hadn’t yet reached the rag stage of her usual attire.
“As if the humans could build a prison capable of holding me,” I scoffed as she carried me outside.
“I have one in my bedroom, or have you forgotten the fact you couldn’t escape the terrarium?
” she rudely pointed out as she placed me inside her car, a metal box on wheels that could move without horses or oxen.
The experience a first for me, and not something that existed in my maternal progenitor’s time.
“Once I have my wings—”
“You don’t,” she interrupted to point out. “And even once you do, they can be clipped.”
“What does this mean, clipped?”
“It’s when they cut the tendons that allow your wings to flap. They do it to keep birds from being able to fly away.”
“What kind of cruel torture is that?” I exclaimed.
“The kind people do to rare creatures.”
Abominable. “I shall eat anyone who tries.”
“In which case, they’ll shoot you.”
A reminder of the guns that existed. Weapons capable of firing great distances and causing catastrophic damage.
“They’d better not.”
“As if you’ll have a choice. If people think you’re a menace, they will eliminate you.”
“Who is this ‘they’ you keep referring to?”
“The government, for a starter. Local law enforcement. Vigilantes. Take your pick. People don’t need much of an excuse to kill, especially if they feel threatened.”
“I won’t have to threaten so long as they accept me as their leader.”
“While I am sure some will kiss the ground you walk on, there’s probably more that will decide to fight your plan to rule the world.”
“Then they will suffer the consequences.”
For some reason, that statement made her laugh. “You do realize you’re just one dragon against billions.”
Daunting odds. “Then what do you suggest? That I become a hermit in a cave on a mountain?”
“At least you’d stay alive.”
Her lack of faith in me stung. I’d show her. I’d show everyone. Eventually. The lack of size, wings, and my ability did hinder my plans. “I will find a way out of this untenable situation.”
“Look at you using big words. I can’t believe how fast you picked up the English language.” She changed the subject. Likely for the best, as I did not like her conclusions as to my odds at ruling over humanity.
“Not really surprising. Dragons are a superior race.”
“Who all died.” Iolana did so enjoy pointing that out.
“You don’t know for sure I am the only one left of my kind.
A clutch has many eggs. Surely others have hatched.
” A good and bad thing. Good in the sense that several dragons could more easily subdue the humans.
The bad being they would then become my competitors as we strove for domination of the world.
“If other dragons did hatch, then they likely died because, otherwise, they’d have gone viral.”
“It wouldn’t be unheard of for my kind to choose seclusion for a period of time while they grow their bodies and hoards.”
“If you say so,” she snorted.
My turn to change the topic. “What can you tell me about my new male servant?”
“His name is Apollo Jameson, and I’m pretty sure he won’t agree to be your personal slave.”
“As if he has a choice,” I scoffed.
“The man is rich, as in can buy anything he wants without blinking. From my understanding, he’s a self-made billionaire, which means he’s not about to take orders from anyone.”
“There is no greater honor than to serve a dragon.”
She sighed. “Are all dragons this arrogant and stubborn?”
“We are born knowing our greatness and worth. I don’t see why I should pretend to be inferior.”
“I can see why your kind disappeared,” she muttered before adding, “We’re here.”
She paused her vehicle, a rusty thing that stank of fumes, in front of some closed metal gates. The window on her side opened, and she spoke into a box.
“Hi, it’s Iolana Mahelona. Mr. Jameson invited me to dinner.”
No reply but the gates began rolling open and the car rolled forward, bringing us into an estate much more befitting a dragon. Manicured greenery extending left and right, a long drive leading to a house that had me pressing my paws to the windshield and almost drooling.
Now there was a home fit for someone of my stature—and soon it would be mine. Despite Iolana’s naysaying, I knew taking this man on as my servant would benefit. This was the kind of luxury I should be residing in.
Iolana parked her vehicle behind one much sleeker and larger. She held out her hand to me, and I ran up her arm to her shoulder. Until I achieved some height, it seemed better to present myself in a lofty position than at the human’s feet.
She glanced overhead. “Looks like we’re in for a storm.” Dark clouds hovered overhead, and moisture in the air indicated pending rain.
As she strode for the massive doors—that would allow me entrance for many moltings before they required enlarging—they opened and Apollo Jameson stood framed.
“Evening,” he stated. “Glad you could make it.”
“As if Tigger left me a choice,” she groused.
The man’s smile widened. “Welcome to my home, sir dragon. I had my chef prepare a lot of food, so I hope you brought your appetite.”
“I’m always hungry.” It gnawed at my belly constantly, the instinct to grow a burning need.
“Come inside.” Apollo swept a hand, and Iolana sighed as she stepped into the house.
The difference between this home and Iolana’s shack couldn’t have been starker. Gleaming marble floors. High ceilings. Elegant furnishings. Wide-open spaces. Floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a view of the roiling ocean waves and tumultuous sky. The only thing the home lacked?
“Where are all your treasures?” I asked, not seeing anything of real value.
“What do you mean?” The man’s brow creased.
“I see no coffers of jewelry. No statues of gold. Where do you keep your riches? Are they hidden in a vault?”
“Most of my money is in the bank. As for jewelry, I have a few things in my bedroom, but I’m not one for that kind of adornment.”
“What is the point of having wealth if you don’t flaunt it?” The very idea of not having treasures in the open to awe and inspire jealousy baffled.
“Don’t be rude,” Iolana chided.
“It’s not rude to question my newest servant’s wealth, as I need to know what is being added to my hoard.”
“Er, servant?” Apollo questioned.
“Yes, I’ve decided to take you on as part of my retinue. You’re welcome.” I scampered down Iolana’s body and hit the floor, nose twitching. “Something smells delicious.”
“The dining room is that way.” Apollo extended his hand as if I needed his help. My nose already knew the way.
While I wanted to run for the food, I restricted myself to a dignified walk as my servants trailed behind talking—about me, of course.
“Why is your pet calling me its servant?” Apollo whispered.
“Because he is going to one day rule our world, don’t you know?”
I chose to ignore the sarcasm in Iolana’s tone.
“How is he planning to do that? I’ve seen squirrels bigger than him in New York.”
“Apparently, he’s going to grow to be quite large, and his ultimate plan is to be humanity’s supreme leader.”
Apollo snorted. “You’re kidding.”
“I told Tigger it’s not going to happen, but he is rather insistent.”
“How did you find him?”
“His egg was encased in a piece of obsidian I melted. At first, I thought him just an unusual lizard. Then he started talking and hasn’t shut up since,” she complained.
I whirled to glare at Iolana over my shoulder. “You should be thankful I choose to address you at all, given your constant insolence.”
“If you don’t like me, feel free to find someone else to order around,” was her tart retort. “When I caught you, I thought I’d be getting a nice pet, not a bossy dragon.”
“Why settle for a boring reptile when you can bask in my greatness?”
“He’s got quite the character,” Apollo murmured.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
I might have addressed them, but we’d arrived at the dining chamber and the scents that wafted had me eager.
Reaching the pending feast posed a dilemma, for the table sat on a pedestal, meaning no legs I could climb.
The chairs, unlike Iolana’s, appeared made of some smooth material, not metal, most likely a plastic alloy.
Annoying stuff. The slippery surface tended to foil my attempts to climb.
Rather than embarrass myself, I lifted my arms and commanded, “Lift me!”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she murmured, scooping and depositing me onto the tabletop.
“About time you addressed me properly.”
The male choked, turning aside to cough in his hand.
“Where’s my food?” My mouth watered in anticipation.
“I’ll fetch it from the kitchen so as to not shock the chef.”
Apollo went through a door, and I glanced at Iolana, who stared out the window at the ocean.
“The view is insane,” she murmured.
“Agreed, and this home is nicer than our current one. We shall be relocating immediately.”
She whirled and frowned in my direction. “Excuse me? I’m not going anywhere.”
“You expect me to live in squalor when I could be inhabiting luxury?”
“I’m perfectly fine where I am, but feel free to make yourself Jameson’s guest.”
“His name is Apollo.”
“First name, yes, but his last name is Jameson.”
“Why would you not address him by his first name?”
“Because Apollo is dumb.”
“My investors would disagree,” stated the man as he returned, bearing a large platter.
Pink tainted her cheeks. “I told you before, Apollo makes me think of astronauts.”
“And every time you say Jameson I think of my father,” Apollo stated as he set the serving dish on the table.