The Dragon Lady (The Dracosinum Tales)

by Angelique S. Anderson

“Yes, a good friend of mine. Trustworthy, honest. Last of his kind really, owns a shop over towards Kinnemore. You’ll want to wait until tomorrow to go, as it's getting late. A young lass like yourself shouldn’t be on the streets at night.”

  “I understand, but I’m afraid my well-being, as well as the well-being of many others, is at stake. I must figure something out as quickly as possible. If I am not able to sell it, Lugwallow may be in trouble.” She expected him to ask questions, but he merely mumbled something and pulled out a bit of thin parchment to write on.

  “Here, the man I’m sending you to, he’s an inventor of sorts. He knows everything about everything. You’re gonna exit my shop, and head left down Hertfordshire, you keep on until you reach Windmill Ave., take a right on Windmill. You know Windmill can go on forever, so make sure you pay close attention. You’re going to make a left on Auburn, and his shop is right there. If anyone can help you, he can. He’s a bit mad, but don’t hold that against him. The man lost his wife and daughters to a sudden illness. He’s holed himself away in his shop ever since. He’s the only one I know that won’t try to lay a finger on ya’ or steal this out of your cold dead hands. Keep it close, ya hear me?”

  She nodded again.

  “Another thing, lass, you’re gonna need this.” He reached under the counter and pulled out a beat-up old derringer. “She may be old, but she’s still got a bit o’ fight left in the ol’ girl.” He shoved the gun in a leather holster and handed it to her. “Take good care of her, won’t ya?”

  “Mr. Webster… I can’t take this! I have no money.” He put his hand up to stop her.

  “Now I don’t recall asking for payment, but if yer worried about that, you can stop by again and let me know yer alive. Tell me if ya found out anything about that odd contraption, eh?”

  She nodded her head vigorously. “What about you? Don’t you need to protect yourself?”

  “No worries, lass. I have my trusty old flintlock. Darn thing has been with me more years than I can remember.” He pulled it from beneath the counter as if to reassure her. “I’ll be all right. Now, you git. Don’t forget to step back in and say hello, ya understand?”

  With a smile that lit up her face, she thanked him again, grabbed the paper, and followed the route that he had laid out for her.

  He had even marked in some of the shop names and a couple of statues so she could keep better track of where she was. At the top of the page he had written a name:

  Dr. Hubert Mullings, Scientist, and on the map he had written out the name of the shop, The Dusty Gadget, and marked it with an arrow.

  Oh heavens. I still have the chores to do at the stables. I’d better go do that now, and maybe I’ll have time to visit Dr. Mullings after that. Wylie glanced up at the clock over Mr. Webster’s shop. It’s only 10:30, I should have plenty of time.

  By the time Wylie had walked across town to Lord Adrian’s, she realized she hadn’t eaten yet that day and was starving. She made a little side trip to the rear of the mansion and knocked on the kitchen door. Nora, the cook, was one of the few staff in Lord Adrian’s employ who actually liked Wylie.

  “You just come on in and set yourself down, girl,” said Nora. “I’ve got just the thing for a hungry young lady.”

  In no time, Wylie was spooning up steaming hot onion soup and stuffing down great slabs of fresh buttered bread. “You’re a marvelous cook, Nora. This is food fit for a king.”

  “Ah, get away with ya. It’s just plain fare, but it will fill that empty spot, sure enough.” The grin on her face did little to hide her pleasure at the compliment.

  It took much longer to complete the stable chores than Wylie had anticipated, so by the time she was done it was already late afternoon. She debated whether to put off her visit to Dr. Mullins ‘til the next day, but then remembered the pocket watch and how anxious she was to learn more about it.

  Dobbinsturn was three times as large as Lugwallow, her destination was almost to Kinnemore so that it was already dark when she arrived in front of The Dusty Gadget. Through the front window she was able to see one lighted lamp which seemed to be the only sign of activity in the place.

  Oh, dear. What was I thinking, coming here so late in the day? A lone carriage rolled by, the driver tipping his hat to her. She nodded back, looking around for anyone who might be of help. To her dismay, she was nearly alone. A tall man with a large top hat walked by, and not to be mistaken for a lady of the night, she bit her lip, looked to the ground, and didn’t say a word. The chill of the evening was gradually creeping in, so she finally got up her nerve and knocked on the door. No answer.

  “I should’ve known that,” she said aloud, as she tried the latch, pleased to find it unlocked, and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “Stupid girl,” she cursed herself. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Yes, what indeed?” A man appeared quite suddenly holding a lamp. His face was illuminated by its gentle glow, which made him seem almost ghostly, and she tripped over her words.

  “Oh dear me… oh, heavens. You must be the Hubert… er… Scientist doctor. Er…. Dr. Hubert Mullings, Scientist.” She was shaking so badly from nerves and cold, she could barely speak properly.

  “Yes, I am Dr. Mullings. How did you hear of me?” His voice softened to low tones, and for whatever reason, possibly her overactive imagination, she felt suddenly afraid.

  “Mr. Webster sent me. He said you were a good friend and that you would be able to help me. He promised me that you were a good man,” she added, almost as if placing blame on Mr. Webster if Dr. Mullings turned out to be anything but.

  At the mention of Mr. Webster’s name, the doctors faced softened instantaneously.

  “Mr. Webster? Still alive after all this time?” he laughed a hearty laugh. “That man was like a father to me, growing up.” She watched with interest as he seemed to retreat somewhere far off into his memories.

  “Indeed, I’m sure he was. He spoke very highly of you. So, I must ask… would you be willing to help me?”

  He didn’t respond immediately, but instead turned away from her and walked back towards the shadows of his gadget shop. The lamplight wasn’t bright enough to see what he was doing, the moonlight through the windows too dim to see more than a few feet in front of her.

  “Dr. Mullings?” her voice trembling. Never one to be intimidated, she took a step forward, but the sound of feet walking about stopped her suddenly. Realizing she knew nothing of this man, she froze on the spot, hoping against hope that the man would do her the courtesy of answering. It felt like every second the shop grew darker, and her fears grew along with it. She could hear sounds and some movement where he was but resolved not to call out again. Obviously, he was busy, and she found herself moving backward toward the entrance.

  A fast getaway seemed to be her best recourse at the moment. It was night time after all, and she was alone with a strange man. She had been a fool to come here. Another step back, and she would be able to turn and run back out the door from whence she’d come.

  At that precise moment, the entire shop lit up. Dr. Mullings stood near a switch on the wall, she almost laughed in relief… He had only retreated to turn on the light! Her nerves started to calm a bit, she could tell he was fussing with something near the light, another lever of sorts? She heard a gently cranking as a sort of tube lowered onto the wall-mounted lantern that so brilliantly lit his shop.

  In the next moment, a sprinkling of color erupted above her fiery red hair, and her gaze was immediately drawn to the ceiling. An array of prismatic colors danced on the ceiling, brilliant hues of red, blue, yellow, and green that caused her to gasp in delight.

  Wylie was completely transfixed. Never before had she seen such a dazzling array. She walked towards the lamp on the wall to study it more closely, noticing the elegant glass shade on the base, but seeing nothing else to account for how it gave off such voluminous pigment.

  “Dr. Mullings
, how did you do that? How do you cause the light to change like that?”

  “Don’t be silly, m’dear. I didn’t cause the light to change.” He stuck his hand out to pull a small lever affixed to the wall. Pulling it downward, she heard the sound of pulleys and cranking as the lamplight changed color again. Once again, to her delight, the ceiling erupted in a profusion of gorgeous hues, a mixture of purples and oranges, dancing about like a sort of magic light show. It lit up the doctor’s workspace, as well as a variation of doodads and baubles around the shop that were no doubt his inventions in various stages of completion.

  “What you see is the effects of what is called a kaleidoscope. Only on a much larger scale. Back when I was a young lad, around 1816, I attended college with a man by the name of Sir David Brewster. A man of passion, he and I hit it off well, in fact, you might say that his little invention was our combined effort. Though most would attribute the invention to him.”

  “You came in as I was getting it ready for its first test run, but what I’m working on here is integrating the Kaleidoscope for use on modern lamps. I have used Sir Brewster’s concept, which is what that tube is on the lamp,” he paused to gesture towards it.

  “I see. Please, how do you change the colors that emanate on the ceiling?” Her curious mind always wanting to know how things functioned. No doubt a characteristic she had inherited from her father.

  “You can’t see the bauble at the end of these wires that are connected to this lever, but every time I pull this lever, the small clicking sound you hear, is color disks on a small tray above the lamp which rotates and changes. I realize you can’t see the disk tray as it's hidden by the glass shade and kaleidoscope tubing, but that’s what makes it so dazzling.”

  “It may not be as practical as Singer’s newfangled sewing machine, but it’s not as boring either. While all of London frolics about under white lights, I have taken a step toward the future! Imagine the Queen displaying my light show in her ballroom? It will be extravagant! Extraordinary!” His face lit up with the sparkle of what the future may hold, and for a minute Wylie was able to visualize it. Though she assumed it would be something only the wealthy could afford. She knew she had been given the gift of seeing it with her own eyes and she surely would never forget it. “I see. Well, the whole system is quite marvelous beyond words, Dr. Mullings.”

  “Are you an inventor?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “A maker of things, perhaps, but nowhere near what you’re doing here. My father was not an inventor either, though he was good with his hands and he created quite a bit of beautiful furniture and other necessities. Which is why I’m quite perplexed at this…” It was now or never. She reached into her utility pocket and pulled out the device to show him. “This is what I found, in a secret compartment in a dresser my father had built. I don’t know what it is, though it looks like a pocket watch. It’s the reason I went to visit Mr. Webster today, and why I am here to see you. Do you think you’ll be able to help me?”

  As she repeated her request for the second time that day, her resolve grew, and her fear lessened. If he couldn’t help her, she would search the world over until she found answers or fetched a good price for the gadget.

  His eyes widened when he saw it, and gingerly taking it, he turned it over and over in his hands. Inspecting every detail, admiring the diamonds and emeralds and gold filigree. When he opened it, his jaw dropped, and he stood quite still for a moment, just staring at the dragon in the center.

  “This is quite the loveliest thing I have ever seen.”

  “Yes, ‘thing’ is quite right. Do you not know what it is either? Mr. Webster said it’s not a pocket watch.” She crossed her arms over her corseted top, diligently watching his every move.

  “Yes, well he was right in that respect,” he said, coming across as a little out of breath. “It’s quite magnificent. It looks like a constellation finder or some sort of dragon summoning device. Of course, that’s silly, though.”

  Dragon Summoner? The idea made her giggle, and he cast her an irritated glance.

  “I was just merely stating what it looked like. I wasn’t saying that’s what it is.”

  Oh, he’s a bit mad. That’s for sure.

  “Here, take this,” he placed it back in her hand and turned his back to her again. This time, she was able to watch his every move since his system of lights lit up the little gadget shop like a palace parade. He retrieved a book from a shelf full of books, and set it down on his worktable, flipping quickly through the pages. Not finding what he was looking for, he grabbed another.

  That book didn’t have what he needed either, and soon he was surrounded by books of all shapes and sizes. Passing over several more, Dr. Mullins ran his hand over their spines before he finally grabbed a rather worn leather-bound tome. It was larger than a normal size book with leather straps bundling it closed.

  She had never seen its equal, and it was her turn to be shocked into silence. He shoved several volumes out of the way and lay it down, unlatching the buckles and pulling out a piece of paper from the beginning of it that had been neatly folded and tucked inside the cover. He beckoned her to come over to him, and she complied. “Read this. I don’t care how long it takes you.” His eyes had taken on a crazed, half-cocked stare.

  His tone was more than just insistent, so not wanting to risk pushing him over the edge, she simply responded with a polite, “Yes, of course.” She stood next to him, pulling the book closer, as he walked away, disappearing into a back room.

  Her heart now beating rapidly, she worried about what she would find in its pages. As she opened it, the first rough page had nothing on it but a hand-written inscription.

  DRAGALETH

  Said to be a myth, Dragaleth refers to the race of dragons who are in charge of the balance of good and evil on Earth. The Dragaleth is a combination of two dragons, one of the order of Teselym and the other of Siapheg. Teselym protects humanity from evil and executes justice when necessary. The Teselym enacts the balance of good. Siapheg brings evil and ensures that humanity will never be entirely free from the sadness of death, betrayal, and lies.

  The Dragaleth are said to be controlled by the gods, but their existence has never been historically proven. The story of Dragaleth surfaced in the 1400s when a lone survivor of a ship carrying the black plague wrote his personal account of the events leading up to the darkest age in history.

  Perplexed, she flipped to the first page. An illustration there stopped her in her tracks. She knew now she needed to do as the Doctor had asked and read what was inside. There was no turning back now.

  Chapter Eight

  I, Thaddeus McCollum, being of sound mind, but not of sound body, do hereby state the following is the truth, to the best of my memory.

  As an adult born and raised on the water, I had only known the seas when the Black Death hit my family’s ship. The boils and puss and the smell of death were something that to this day, on my death bed, I have been unable to wipe from my memory.

  My mother would often retell the stories told to her of the time known as the Crusades, which started in the 11th century. The very first crusade was merely a cry for help from Pope Urban II to stop the spread of alternate religion, it sparked a series of crusades which the church demanded its followers support if they wished to be absolved of their sins and guaranteed a place in heaven.

  This crusade sparked the evil of men’s hearts, and soon it became clear to my grandparents that the Church wanted to suppress any opposition whatsoever. They, or at least the men at the head of the church, wanted to have full control. The evil they perpetrated ended thousands of innocent lives. None were spared, not men, women, or children. My grandparents, fearing for their lives, took their meager savings and my mother and left their home.

  Mother was a baby when her parents took her to sea with a small crew of friends and relatives in 1282. Aboard a large sailing transport known as an Usciere, with not much room
for any extra crew, my grandparents agreed to help care for the ship’s horses and muck out the stables. With the crusades on the rise, horses proved to be a desperate need that would not go away. All one had to do was to follow the route of the Crusades, and they would know where the next slew of horses was required. This was something the captain was very good at.

  After nearly a decade on the sea, my mother became old enough to join the crew and help care for the horses as well. It was during that time she remembers the night she saw the dragons rise. With no name for them at that moment, my mother referred to them as winged beasts.

  The skies had opened in a deluge of rain, much to the crew's delight, as water supplies were running low. The downpour would mean water for the horses and people aboard. As it stormed that evening, my mother stole out of her parent’s cabin and onto the starboard deck to look at the thundering skies as she huddled under the cover of a lifeboat to keep dry.

  Not long after, in the darkness, she saw the winged beasts for the first time. One as black as the night from whence it came, its horns like those of a Viking helmet. The other beast was of pure opalescent white. She compared the loveliness of it to an angel that embodied heaven itself. Suddenly it was as if the Earth had been rent in two, for the storm that followed their rising, was one like she had never seen. It woke everyone onboard though they didn’t see the beasts, and the ship nearly went under the waves more than once.

  My mother spent the next few days questioning friends and family about the strange creatures, but oddly, she had been the only one to see them. She soon came to believe they had been a hallucination due to her exhaustion and the storm.

  When they docked in port at Lisbon, Portugal to gather supplies and pick up another shipment of horses, my mother casually brought up the topic of the strange creatures to shopkeepers and children alike. No one seemed able to confirm her vision, and fearing she would be declared unstable and separated from her family, she tucked the vision of the scaled monsters away.