Alice's Dragon (The Challenge Series)

by Stephanie Beck

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Alice’s Dragon

  Copyright © 2013 by Stephanie Beck

  ISBN: 978-1-61333-536-9

  Cover art by Tibbs Design

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

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  Alice’s Dragon

  The Challenge Series

  By

  Stephanie Beck

  DEDICATION

  For my dragon-chasing friends.

  Chapter One

  Alice stepped up to the gate and shook her fist into the cool night air. “Henry, you dirty son of a bitch. Give me my money.”

  Their small cove community belonged only to itself, and though he had no real power, Lord Henry claimed jurisdiction, which meant he needed to pay her.

  For generations the residents of the Island of Aden had lived a sequestered existence, taking on the rugged, independent nature of their homeland. After the last few hurricanes, fewer and fewer ships came by for fear of getting marooned. More people left than were born. It was only a matter of time before the population died out entirely. Alice was happily stuck, as was Henry. Only, she would last longer than the cheap, decrepit fart.

  When the old man lumbered out of his stately stone home, a small satchel in his hand, Alice hid her sigh of relief. She’d expected him to balk, as he had the month before, with fairly justified cause. The dragon she distracted had seen more ferocious days. His scales flaked and he’d lost another two teeth. “Terrifying” didn’t quite describe him, but she’d done her job and the village remained unravaged. Therefore, she had earned her pay.

  Limping and holding his robes closed, Henry reached her, his scowl lit by the torch the young servant beside him carried. Neither appeared happy to see her.

  “You couldn’t come at a proper time, could you, Dragon Charmer?”

  “I never do,” she chirped, accepting the offered money sack.

  “I can’t wait for this to be done,” Henry muttered.

  “Done? Oh, my lord, this will never be done. As long as there are dragons, you’ll need a charmer, and I’m the last of my line.”

  Henry perked up. “Yes, and the dragon is the last of his. There hasn’t been a new one in decades. We won’t be needing you.”

  “You’ll always need me,” Alice snapped. “If he dies, another will take his place. Don’t expect me to come and help you for free when your shit is on fire.”

  The wicked sparkle in his eye gave her a bad feeling in her gut. “Whatever you say, Dragon Charmer, but if I were you I’d consider a new vocation. Charmers and slayers are no longer necessary in the modern world.”

  Henry turned on his heels his servant beside him. The short peon sneered at her over his shoulder.

  “Go ahead and be a bitch, Stewart,” Alice called. “I’d rather be an out of work dragon charmer than an ass wiper.”

  In the dead of night, her favorite time to wander, she took in the cool air and thanked everything good she made a living doing what she loved. Her family had worked the business for generations. The rare men tended to die young, taking the slaying route. The women, however, lived long enough to pass down tactics that made their livelihood sustainable.

  What good was a dead dragon? None at all. Kill a dragon one day, dig a ditch the next. Her foremothers saw a way to change things to their advantage and stay out of ditches. The beasts weren’t trained…exactly.

  So what if the secrets Alice held close were easily implemented? If the public wanted to learn them, they would have asked. Instead, she worked, the dragon stayed at bay, and the islanders prospered.

  She liked her part in the system and would maintain it until the dragon bit the dust. Henry was correct in one respect. No new beasts came. Isle Aden had drifted too far out into the ocean for most of them to fly. Even seagoing boat crews didn’t seem to enjoy the trip.

  Once Rusty, her trusty orange nemesis, died she’d be out of a job, without a purpose. Alice shook off the idea and focused on the path ahead of her. She passed Joseph and Amy’s cottage. Her schoolroom friends had hooked up upon maturity and seemed dead set on repopulating the island. She hurried past the shadows in the window, not wanting to get caught peeking into their happy, lusty home.

  Finally to her sanctuary, she stepped inside, enjoying the warmth from the low fire she’d left burning. Her pots and pans reflected the light around the room.

  She moved her heaviest copper kettle aside and added her pay to the pile of shimmering coins in the secret hatch underneath. The money she and her foremothers saved would serve her well should Rusty burst into flames. After putting the pot back in place, she proceeded with her evening routine. Her shield needed to be shined and waxed, floors swept, torch re-thatched.

  She burned the midnight oil far longer than planned, but with a clean cottage and her supplies ready for playing with Rusty, she fetched a glass of wine before stretching out on her bed. If life were all about cash, she’d be a lady of leisure. Too bad she needed constant occupation or trouble found her. She snuggled into her pillow. Trouble had been more fun when her mother and grandmother lived.

  Being a dragon charmer came with the sort of zaniness most people shied away from. Her mother had found a bed buddy by hanging out in pubs
on the mainland twenty-six years earlier. Alice groaned and demanded her mind stop already. If she didn’t do that, she thought. When thinking, she noticed the things missing from her life.

  Alice shoved her fingers in her ears to drown out the circuitous mental shouting. The noise didn’t come from outside, but inside. The trick still worked though, and after a few more minutes, she closed her eyes.

  Chapter Two

  The ship bobbed and swayed, but Bade maintained his footing on the poop deck and grinned when land came into sight. For months he’d traveled, the Isle of Aden in his mind.

  Through weeks on horseback, and entirely too much time at sea, the world of his books gave his heart hope he’d find success in his mission so far from home.

  “Master Bade, we’ve arrived,” the captain called.

  He should have learned the captain’s name, but the man didn’t encourage much conversation let alone the friendly sort.

  “Thank you.” Bade kept his eyes on the harbor, watching for magic and finding…sunken piers and dead fish.

  “It be the warm season,” the captain said. “Too hot in the coves and the fish cook themselves. It’s a might stinky.”

  “Might” didn’t cover the stench of rotting carcasses. So much for magic. Bade shored himself up and gathered his belongings. His father, the king of Bulgaria, had sent supplies to last years, but Bade only brought his most prized possessions, tucked close at all times.

  People milled about the dock, many scowling at the ship. The prevailing fashion resembled the practical slacks and sweaters of his homeland. One especially bearded fellow stepped forward when the hands lowered the gangplank.

  “Well,” he said. “Been a while since we had visitors, but I reckon my men still know how to unload. What’s your cargo?”

  The captain stepped forward. “This bloke’s junk. It’s below board. My men will get it ashore.”

  “Can’t interest you in a few days docked?”

  The captain scowled. “I’d sooner spend my coin where the lasses are lovely, the beer flows, and I won’t be set afire by a dragon.”

  The mention of dragons made Bade listen harder while the crew unloaded his cargo into the waiting hands of the stevedores.

  “Well now,” the oldster said. “We have ourselves a charmer, no sense worrying. The girl is working up on the hill with Rusty right now. He won’t bother you none.”

  Bade spun to face where the man pointed and his heart froze. A giant red beast with a wingspan at least five times his height towered on its four legs, circling a tiny woman. He grabbed his sword and ran for the hill.

  “For crying out loud,” the man said. “She has it handled. It’s what we pay her for.”

  Bade ignored him, racing over the rickety dock to a narrow, pitted main street which ran straight to the base of giant cliffs. He mounted a long set of crumbling stone stairs, the sounds of growling and giggling getting louder. He didn’t know what a dragon charmer did, but Bade recognized an animal ready to pounce. The one on the hill showed all the signs of losing control.

  He crested the hill and confronted the largest dragon he’d ever encountered. The pure magnificence of its size humbled him and brought tears to his eyes. How many times had he witnessed a young one cut down before it reached such wondrous proportions? To see this one alive and vibrant, even on the edge of homicide, heartened him. He’d chosen the right home.

  A small woman dressed in bright colors danced around with a shield on her arm. The metal shone in the sun. Bade cringed as clouds rolled in, his bad feeling amplifying. She knew her way around a dragon, but the clouds and serpent were about to join against her.

  “Girl, move away.” He set his pack down and pulled out his longsword.

  “Dumbass, get out of here,” she replied, still dancing and flashing her mirrored shield.

  “I beg you.” The enchanted glimmer in the dragon’s eye turned weary and blank, so like the young beasts he’d seen snap under pressure of hunger and loneliness.

  She gyrated and spun her shield. “I’m going to ask you once more and then put you on my kick list.”

  Though it went against the grain to deny a lady’s wishes, he stepped into the fray, meeting the dragon’s teeth with his blade as they descended.

  “Holy smokes.” Alice had never witnessed someone move so quickly.

  The man in black held a giant sword against Rusty’s teeth. Alice couldn’t remember the last time she’d caught a glimpse of those chompers up close, but reckoned she could have been premature in telling the stranger to go away. He’d noticed something she hadn’t, but she wasn’t helpless. She scrambled to her bag and pulled out her torch. With a few strikes, the spark lit.

  She waved it over her head and whistled. Just like always, Rusty looked up, but this time his eyes glazed over.

  “Woman, get the hell out of here,” the stranger hissed. “It’s gone past charming or whatever you call it.”

  “You don’t know,” Alice said in a singsong voice. “Come on, Rusty. Time to go out to sea for some lunch.”

  She moved backward, waving the torch back and forth. She’d learned to use the fire on her twelfth birthday and sent Rusty out to sea hundreds of times when the marine mammals swam close. He liked a nice baby whale or dolphin. Seafood kept him from the cows and sheep.

  He blinked twice in quick succession, losing the hypnotic connection. When he blinked again, the whites of his eyes turned blood red. The stranger yelled and hurtled toward Rusty, but it was too late. The dragon’s teeth clamped on her arm, using it to lift her body from the ground.

  Her feet flipped over her head and the world spun. She blacked out but was jerked back awake when she landed hard on the ground. The man in black shoved his sword through Rusty’s eye, the old beast falling limp. Alice knew a dragon’s brain dwelled close to the front of their head and was grateful the stranger did as well.

  He turned to her and paled. Alice tried to push herself up and grew lightheaded once more. She’d once had two arms. She looked to her left side, a bloody stump. Now she had one.

  Chapter Three

  Bade pressed a cloth to the young woman’s forehead, her fever harsh and unrelenting. She’d fallen into a stupor shortly after he killed the dragon. Twenty hours later, she hadn’t come out of it.

  “Looks like she’s on her way out,” the crone who’d led him to the dragon charmer’s home said. “I figured if anyone could survive tangling with a dragon, it would be Alice. She’s from cranky stock. The cranky birds tend to live longer.”

  Soft blonde curls framed Alice’s face, and the high, full cheekbones spoke of youth—not a scowl line on her face to justify “cranky.” The freckles on her pert nose reminded him of sunshine. If she’d been in his homeland, she would have been pampered and adored—never put to pasture with danger.

  “Why did your lord allow her to fight the dragon?” Bade would demand the answer from the lord if necessary. Once the young one woke. He would not leave her side before then.

  “It’s her business. She’s a charmer. It’s in her line.” The old woman pushed to her feet. “I’m off. If she makes it through another night, she might wake up. She probably hit her head, though, so, who knows?”

  He shot to his feet. “You’re not staying? Does she have any family?”

  “Family? I don’t believe so. Alice is a loner, has been since her mother and gram died. Dragon charmers tend to be a solitary lot. You might as well stay here if you haven’t other lodging.”

  He didn’t know how he felt about staying in the strange cottage much longer. While clean, it wasn’t his space. The one who owned it lay near death. If she died, he didn’t know the first thing to do or who to contact.

  “You’ll be fine,” the old crone said. “I’ll come back in the morning. She’ll either be alive or dead then. No skin off my nose.”

  Was everyone so callous on Isle Aden? Back home, people didn’t bend backward for others, but they didn’t leave their fellow citizens to die either.
Not unless they’d stabbed them themselves.

  He needed to get to business, but young Alice needed help. He didn’t know if she would make it, but while he waited to find out, he’d have a place to stay and a warm location for the eggs.

  The old woman stepped out of the cottage, slamming the door behind her.

  In the bed, Alice jumped. Bade rushed to her side, hoping for another sign of life, but found none. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She was lovely, but appearances could be deceiving. The crone’s attitude toward her, combined with the confrontational attitude she’d shown during the fight, made him wonder over her true temperament.

  For now, it didn’t matter. He moved his pack closer to the fire and pulled out the heavy alabaster case. After aligning the lock pieces, he cracked it open. For creatures that grew so large, they started tiny. Slightly larger than doorknobs, the half dozen eggs in the box nestled close to each other, protected by the finest silk. His calculations said they could be born at any time, though they most likely needed another month.

  As the eggs warmed, they began to sway. Left chilled for too long, they lost their signs of life, but the hearts of the six in the box still beat. At least for the time being. He stroked them, remembering their mother well. The dragoness had been the last in her line, a fearsome red who flew to great lengths to survive long enough to have her young. He’d taken charge of the little ones after she passed.

  The great honor made him search out a land where all dragons in his care could grow like the fearsome red. The mountains of his land provided well for two, but even those flew for miles every day to get enough to eat. They needed to be where the sea life—large and plentiful—could be caught. The little ones had earned life by making it so far.

  He closed the box and gazed toward the bed. Was the brazen young woman like the dragons? Fragile at the moment, but capable of greatness when given the chance? He dipped a towel in the cool water and ran it along her warm forehead. Alice deserved a chance, too.

  Chapter Four

  The rolling meadow inspired her. She loved long walks in the grass with weeds tickling her ankles. The sun beat down, making her sweat. Alice frowned and rubbed her hands over her face, chasing a horrid itch to no avail. She stumbled over a log and fell on her shoulder, screaming in agony.