Let Sleeping Dragons Lie (The Modern Dragon Chronicles Book 1)

by Ty Burson

  In Santa Rosa, she bought a coffee from one of those drive-thru kiosks, a pecan torte. She didn’t need the caffeine, and she didn’t care much for the way the bitter liquid tasted, but the aroma, oh, she practically bathed her nose in the marvelous smells. She was so lost in the competing spices, in fact, that she started to drift into the other lane. A trucker honked, startling her. Shou waved an apology. Reluctantly, she put the cup in the drink holder, concentrating on controlling the automobile. Darned things had been around for a hundred years and she still couldn’t decide how she felt about them.

  It was a long drive—almost eight hours north along California’s Hwy 101. Several hours in, Shou’s coffee had become cold and its aroma stale, so she tossed the lifeless brew out the window. She put the cup in a trash bag on the passenger seat and focused back on the drive; marveling at the view. Her ancient eyes took in the gentle, rolling green hills, with their sturdy oaks, until that view transformed into craggy, rugged mountains peppered with slender pines. She would not even get a glimpse of the mighty Pacific for several hours, and still she felt the sort of satisfaction every living creature feels basking in nature. Of course, she could have taken the stunning coastal highway for part of the trip, but that took longer, and sometimes the ocean interfered with her sense of smell.

  Every few miles, Shou would pull over and roll down her window, inhaling deeply, just to make sure she was still on the right trail. Thus far, the dragon’s scent had grown steadily stronger the farther north she drove.

  At Klamath’s Trees of Mystery, Shou made a pit stop to visit some old friends and stretch her legs a bit. She wasn’t sure exactly when someone had slapped a sign up and decided to charge admission to view the unusually formed trees, but it had become a popular sightseeing spot in the years that followed. Though it was early, there were already quite a few cars in the parking lot waiting for the souvenir shop to open so they could buy their tickets. Shou entered the park without one; no one seemed to notice the elderly woman as she strolled on by. She hummed to herself, passing by the usual favorites: the Elephant Tree, the Candelabra Tree, the Cathedral Trees, all strangely and wonderfully shaped. The tour guides claimed that the trees were twisted by magic—if they only knew.

  Shou walked through one enormous tree, the space between its massive roots large enough to fit a car, and then stepped over the wooden rail that girded the path. With no one around, she moved easily, almost gracefully. Humming to herself, she snaked her way around, over boulders and moss-covered tree husks, venturing ever farther from the developed areas. At last, she stopped before a towering redwood. Its surface was covered with knots, a kind of wooden acne that had enveloped the entire tree. Continuing to warble to herself, Shou stepped up to the tree and slapped its bark several times. “Come on, Little Brother, wakey, wakey, get up!”

  Almost immediately, one of those knots fluttered, as if it wanted to open. A moment later it did. It lifted like an eyelid, blinked once at the old woman, then closed again. Shou huffed and tried once more, “Up, up, wake up!” The knot popped open, closed, and then dozens of other did the same. All up and down the tree, eyelids of knotted wood opened and closed. At last, half a dozen near the bottom stayed that way, staring at the old woman.

  Meanwhile, Shou was rocking back and forth to a new tune. In response to the sad melody, the bark near the bottom of the tree began to darken, and twist—eventually forming something that resembled a face. The tree spoke, “Elder Sister, is that you? It’s so good to see you.”

  Shou smiled, “Yes, Little Brother, look at you. You’ve grown so tall and strong. How are your brothers and sisters?”

  The tree’s bark shifted and the face appeared to be thinking. “We are all here, for now.”

  “For now? What has happened?” Shou asked.

  “Nothing, Elder Sister. It’s just the humans. They seem to be crowding us. I never used to see more than a few of them out here, but now? Almost every day they wander by. Some of us say that once humans arrive, it’s only a matter of time before the trees are cut down. But I’m not worried; you planted me way out here.”

  Shou nodded. “Yes, well—”

  “Oh, and the air stinks. The other trees think it’s getting worse. I don’t think it’s awful right now, but generally, it’s bad.”

  Shou unconsciously took a deep breath. “Yes,” she began, “you are right. The air is not sweet. But I think it’s better than a few years ago; at least the humans are trying.”

  The tree blinked a couple dozen times. Apparently, the other trees did not have an opinion about that. “Why are you here, Elder Sister?”

  “I watched a great dragon, still quite young, leave its nest from the north, not far from here, and I need to know where it is. When it’s ready to fight for its egg, I should be there,” Shou explained.

  “A great dragon? That’s wonderful!” the tree replied. “Well,” it qualified, “it would be wonderful if it’s on our side. You sure it’s on our side? It wouldn’t do us much good if it wasn’t on our side—”

  “Little Brother—”

  “Oh, I should have sensed it if it was close, but I haven’t. Why is that, Elder Sister?”

  Shou frowned, “I don’t know. I only recently found out about it myself.”

  “Hmm,” the tree considered, “I have not heard any of the trees talk about a great dragon. You have seen it? Is it beautiful?”

  Shou stepped forward almost touching the tree, “Yes, beautiful—green and gold and potentially quite powerful—like the one who gave him life. I could tell that even from the brief time I saw it. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t sense it; maybe it is strong enough to shield itself. Who knows? Anyway, I caught the dragon’s scent when it left, so I can tell it’s almost time; its potency is growing. However, for some reason I’m finding it hard to pinpoint where it’s resting.” Shou added confidentially, “There will be others looking, so I need to find it in a hurry.”

  Understanding, the massive tree shook its uppermost limbs, creating a little wind with its leaves. They wafted up and down, grasping for the leaves of other nearby giants. The breeze magically jumped from tree to tree in all directions. Shou sat down on a rotting chunk of wood that was covered with a bright green moss and tiny spiral mushrooms, content to wait. She pulled a plastic baggie of mostly thawed shrimp from her large Coach bag—the height of fashion according to her niece—and, with two spindly, wrinkled fingers, reached in, plucked the tasty morsel, shell and all, and popped it into her mouth. When she finished her snack, she closed her eyes and relaxed, knowing this might take a while.

  The park had been open now for several hours, and tourists walked the meandering trail of mystical trees, some freakishly formed by nature, some trimmed over the years by ingenious humans, and a few twisted by magic. These were the brothers and sisters of Shou’s redwood, who, in their youth, had not been able to make up their minds if they really wanted to be trees, or something altogether different. Their restless spirits molded the trunks and limbs in unusual ways until they eventually settled in, committing to being permanent citizens of the forest. Once human beings had discovered they could profit by that uniqueness, however, the trees had lost all their anonymity.

  Around lunchtime, a visiting family barreled down the trail, within earshot of Shou, who was still lingering on the log. “Darn you, kids, get yourselves back here!” yelled an extremely overweight woman between gulps of her diet soda. Her husband, himself easily pushing 350 pounds, was busy playing a fishing game on his cell phone and not paying any attention to anything else. The two toddlers tethered to him with a kid leash pulled every which way, but could not break free of his gravity. Three elementary-aged kids were running in between the rest of the tourists, drawing more than a few scowls and the occasional “watch out”.

  One of the little rascals, a bony and agile boy of eight, jumped the simple wooden rail fence in order to avoid being tagged by his sister. “Gerald,” boomed the woman, “back on the path, right now! You’ll
catch poison ivy again.” The older sisters only hesitated for a fraction of a second before following their brother—sure, they risked getting in trouble, but after being cooped up in the motor home, they had to chance it.

  “Oh, those darn kids,” their mother mumbled. She stopped at the spot where they broke free and waited. Her husband, oblivious, bumped right into her. “Hey, what?” he exclaimed.

  She smacked him on the arm, “Darn it, Jimmie, those kids are off in the woods! Go track ‘em down,” she commanded.

  “Huh? I got these two little ones here. I can’t go chasing them all through the woods,” he complained before returning to the digital largemouth bass that he had almost reeled in.

  The mother looked at the fence, and the rocks and all those downed trees she might have to climb over and made a decision. Rather than step off into the wilderness, she opted to yell at them for the next 15 minutes. “Gerald, Tina, and Laveta, get yourselves back here right now!”

  Shou opened one eye and saw the boy. She’d heard him and the girls crashing through the forest; their mother yelling after them would have been hard to miss, besides. She sighed and looked over at her towering friend. Most of its eyes were now closed, but a few were blinking. “Little Brother, company!”

  A face briefly reappeared before her, and then all the eyes shut at once. Anyone stumbling upon them would see nothing but a wrinkled old woman reclining next to a towering redwood.

  The boy appeared first and abruptly skidded to a halt right in front of her. “Hey, who are you?” he boldly asked.

  Shou answered, “Just an old lady enjoying a little peace and quiet, or I was.” Before she could say more, two girls came flying around a large tree and crashed into their brother. All three rolled around in a melee of knees and elbows. The largest girl got up first, “Hey, Gerald, you stopped.” Then she noticed Shou, “Who’s she?”

  Not letting him answer, she swatted him hard on the arm, “Got you. You’re it!”

  “Wait. No fair, I stopped playing,” he complained.

  Suddenly, a strong wind whipped from the north and the massive tree began to sway. Shou looked up and then at the three children. “Is that your mother yelling for you? She sounds worried. Maybe you should get back to her.”

  The other sister had broken free of the tangle and was already climbing on the downed tree trunk next to Shou. “Naw, if we go back right now, we’ll just get in trouble again.” She stood up on the log, “Gerald, you’re it.”

  “I am not! You…”

  He was interrupted by the mass of eyelids that snapped open all at once. “Elder Sister,” the tree said, “I know where it is.” The girl fell off her log and the other one gasped aloud. She ran over and grabbed her sister close. Gerald snatched up a stick and was going for one of the wooden eyes when Granny swatted it out of his hand.

  “Thank you,” Shou replied and then she turned to the intruders. “Well, Gerald, Tina, and Laveta,” Shou huffed, “I think it’s time you got back to your parents.”

  “No way, hey, how’d you know our names?” Tina asked.

  “Yeah, we don’t know you,” Laveta said. “And what is that?” she said, pointing at the tree.

  “Oh, I know a lot of things,” Shou said pointing at Gerald. “I know you took your sister’s bag of river rocks.”

  “Huh? I did not!” Gerald lied.

  “So, you did do it! You turd!” Laveta yelled, “I knew you did. You lied to Daddy about it.”

  “Oh, now hold on, Laveta,” Shou interrupted. “Didn’t you use all of Tina’s lip gloss to finish that picture you were drawing yesterday?”

  Tina stomped over and grabbed her sister’s arm, “You did, didn’t you? You little brat!” She gave her a tug, “I’m going to tell Momma on you.”

  “Absolutely, dear,” Shou prompted, “you should go tell your mother right away. You too, Gerald, go tell your father how Laveta broke that necklace back at the souvenir shop and threw it back in the box.” Gerald nodded enthusiastically.

  The three kids pushed and yelled and hit each other all the way back to their parents, who were waiting for them on a bench. Their dad had given up his fishing game for a hunting game, and their mom was fussing at the toddlers when the trio emerged from the forest. “Hey,” their mother yelled, “Over here, right now. You’re in big trouble!”

  Even though she was a long way off, Shou could hear the mother dressing down the little hooligans. When Shou was certain that the trio had forgotten all about blinking trees, she turned her attention to her wooden friend. “Okay, Little Brother,” she said, placing her cheek against the furry bark, “show me.”

  Acknowledgements

  For the voices of youth, Megan, Taryn, and Kailey.

  For Cameron, who forgot it was his dad’s book.

  For Kerri, my partner in all things, especially this story.

  And special thanks to Susan, who slogged through the first draft, and asked a lot of questions.

  About the Author

  TY BURSON was born in Riverside, California. His mother and her family emigrated from Canada, while most of his father’s people hailed from Oklahoma. After completing an Associate’s Degree in general education, Ty joined the Air Force. Ty signed on to be a Russian Crypto-logic Linguist, went off to basic training, and eventually ended up in Monterey, California. It was there that Ty met his future wife, Kerri.

  Ty finished his Bachelor’s degree before leaving the Air Force. Eventually, four kids and a couple of career changes later, Ty went back to school, got his teaching certification, joined the Air National Guard, and began teaching middle school in Florissant, Missouri.

  It was at a conference for middle school teachers that Ty got the idea for a lucky dragon that protected a fishing village. A protagonist with a stutter and a demon came along much later. While the novel got shelved when Ty decided that he had to have a Doctorate in Education, it never entirely left his mind—as few wonderful ideas ever do.

  Currently, Ty and his family live in Maryland, where he continues to teach after completing his Doctorate and retiring from the Air National Guard in 2011. Ty is known for entertaining his students with funny poems and stories, and for wearing bizarre, entertaining ties.