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Alice's Dragon (The Challenge Series)

Page 2

by Stephanie Beck


  “Alice, wake up.”

  Something shook her, but her arm hurt too much to concentrate on whether it could be a threat or help.

  “Open your damn eyes, woman.”

  She lifted her eyelids and slammed them shut when the pain of the dream didn’t ebb.

  “Easy, easy.” A deep, honey-smooth male voice comforted her. “Your shoulder is injured and I’m so sorry for it. It’s stitched and covered as well as possible, but it will hurt. Do you have alcohol or pain medication?”

  “Wine.” Even the slight effort made her shoulder throb. “What happened?”

  Compassion filled his dark gaze for a moment before he glanced around and hurried to the shelf where she kept spirits. “Do you remember the dragon?”

  She frowned, wondering what Rusty had to with anything. The confrontation came back in a rush and her stomach rebelled. She hadn’t looked at her arm, despite the stranger’s mention of sewing and bandaging it. It must be damaged or hanging in a sling.

  It was gone.

  Her breaths came in harsh, wheezing gasps, her throat too narrow to grab air. Rusty had taken her arm, ripped it from the socket. She tried to move it like she had a million times and though she felt something, it didn’t magically reappear.

  “Calm down,” the stranger ordered.

  Through her blur of panic, she recognized the one from the field. He’d killed her dragon and saved her. But not all of her.

  “Have a sip.” The man in black held the cup to her lips. “Were I to wake up with parts missing, I’d need a stiff drink, too. How’s the discomfort?”

  She drank her wine, the good stuff she’d had Old Dan get for her last time he sailed to France. She’d stocked up, because he was too old to make the trip again. She hoped she had enough to get over the arm situation.

  “The pain.” She took another sip, much more fortifying than the first. “Is like I’ve never experienced.”

  “I’m sorry. I tried to intercede sooner—”

  “Not your fault.” She sat back against her pillow. “I’d noticed the crazy in Rusty’s eyes for years, but I’d been able to distract him. It was only a matter of time before he snapped. I hoped he’d do it alone in his cave and brain himself.”

  “Instead he took a bite of you with him.” The man winced. “I am sorry. Are you hungry? I made a stew.”

  “Out of what?”

  “This and that I found in your cupboards. I also bartered with the woman called Agnes from down the road for a few things.”

  “Ugh.”

  He cocked a brow. “Ugh? I’m afraid I don’t know that particular expression.”

  “It means she most likely sold you a rotten chicken or skunk. The old bat hates me.”

  He went back to stirring the stew, giving her a lovely view of his backside. Combined with the wine, she was able to ignore some of the throbbing.

  “I assure you I have encountered my fair share of hateful bats in my life,” he said. “I bought a live chicken and checked it over first.”

  Smart. She never assumed people would act in an intelligent fashion. Such optimism always led to disappointment. She took another sip of wine, the warmth spreading through her body and dulling the sting. “What’s your name?”

  He straightened and smiled at her. “I am called Bade Draco. I hail from Bulgaria.”

  The center of dragon territory. She sat up too fast and cringed. His slaying ability made more sense if he came from the mountains the legends called the dragons’ home. “Why are you here?”

  He shrugged. Fussing around the kitchen area, he took down bowls and utensils. “I heard it was a nice area.”

  “Yeah, and I’m six feet tall,” she muttered.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  She didn’t want him to go on the defensive or do something rational, like leave her alone to go on to his own business, at least not while he held stew that smelled like simmered root veggies and sautéed chicken.

  “Um, yes, I agreed with you. Isle Aden is quite lovely.”

  He sat beside her and crinkled his nose before handing her a spoon. She frowned from the bowl to the utensil and figured she could make it work. She ate with her right hand all the time. Though her muscles shook, she lifted the spoon to her mouth. ”How long was I asleep, anyway?”

  “You were out for three days,” Bade said, his accent giving the simple words a new flavor. “You’ll be weak, so eat slowly.”

  Weak didn’t quite cover how she felt, but after a few awkward bites she felt better than when she woke. She set the spoon down and shook her head when he offered it again.

  “You need more.” He frowned and tucked the wooden utensil between her fingers. “You’ve lost too much blood and not had enough nourishment to replace it.”

  Giving him an obscene gesture crossed her mind, but she figured he wouldn’t understand it anyway, so instead took another bite. “Did you know your accent gets thicker when you’re bossy?”

  “Did you know you’re always difficult? Even in your sleep, you kicked away blankets on the coolest nights. Tell me about your work with dragons.”

  Bade scooted his chair closer and settled, keeping the stew within her easy reach. He had a mouth on him, but she liked the way he used it.

  “Dragon charming is a way of life in my family. It has been for more generations than I can count. The women perfected it and, until very recently, it kept me in chicken and wine.”

  “Tell me about charming.”

  She shrugged, and the stew curdled in her stomach. The utensil dropped from her grasp. She didn’t have a job. She didn’t have an arm. She didn’t have a dragon.

  “There, there.” Bade’s deep voice offered comfort and a beacon through the storm brewing in her mind. “You’ve had a tough few days. You need to breathe and keep the food down so you can heal.”

  “Why heal? There’s nothing for me. Not anymore.” Tears gathered, burning her eyes. “No more Rusty to charm. No more money to make. Nothing. I don’t even have both arms to attempt a new occupation. I should have died.”

  He held her hand as he shushed her and muttered some gibberish. She tore her hand away from his and in her haste slammed her shoulder against the wall. Darkness closed in as pain overwhelmed her. At least she didn’t puke.

  Chapter Five

  The eggs rocked in his warm palms. They grew more playful every day. Bade covered them with a clean towel and patted each. They’d be wonderful creatures soon, maybe sooner than he’d thought. Isle Aden offered a future for the beasts in a world no longer made for them.

  On the bed across the room, another creature in similar straits stared off into the corner. He didn’t worry she’d peek in his box or ask questions. After their first conversation, she’d slipped into a state of shock. He liked her fire and wanted to know more about her experiences, but she didn’t respond to his questions.

  If they could work together, they could repopulate the dragon species, or at least give the line another generation. He could do it by himself, but preferred the idea of a partner after so many years alone.

  In his homeland, the beasts kept him busy in remote locations for months at a time. Women required more than he’d had to give. Besides, he’d been little more than a shepherd. Despite his noble blood, his passion for nature made him an abnormality. His parents didn’t understand, but since they had his several older brothers and a dozen younger sisters to deal with, they let him be.

  Alice already held affection for the flying creatures. That put her on a level beyond any woman he’d ever encountered. If she were able to get past her trauma and join him on his quest, he believed they’d do well. Their personalities might clash, but he found her attractive and challenging.

  “I need to find the lord of the island,” Bade said, sure she could hear him even if she no longer responded. “Do you need anything while I am out?”

  She turned her head toward him but didn’t speak. He thought he saw a spark of interest but couldn’t be sure. He would
hope.

  “I shall return shortly to make you dinner. You will eat it.”

  He’d fed her the night before, giving her bites of stew until he felt she’d eaten enough. The anger in her eyes then gave him hope she’d find her voice soon. He strove for patience, trying to put himself in her shoes. If he’d been disfigured, he would struggle. Alice still had much to learn and recover from. He’d help her, if she allowed him to.

  She didn’t acknowledge his announcement. He shrugged and grabbed his cloak, leaving his precious cargo near the fire. With Alice in bed, the eggs were plenty safe from curious hands shaking or handling them.

  Agnes had told him just the day before he should check in with Lord Henry, but advised him not to give the man a cent. Bade planned to pay a reasonable tax for moving to the island, but while walking down the knotty, rough path, he realized if tax was collected, it wasn’t put back into the island. The harbor had been a mess when the boat arrived, the city streets needed new rock and grating. He arrived at what served as government housing and figured the money wasn’t being used there either.

  The lord’s manor wasn’t much, but it did boast a sagging and rusted front gate. Bade reached for the short, frayed cord and tugged it, surprised at the bright chime that rang in response. The main door of the stone building opened, and a pale young man in maroon robes emerged. He gazed left and then right. Bade looked, as well, but found nothing of note. Finally the fellow squished his face up and scowled at him.

  “What?”

  The servants back home possessed impeccable manners and were treated like family during and after their years of service. This fellow…embodied the attitudes he’d met on the island.

  “I’m in search of Lord Henry.”

  “I really don’t care.” The fellow spun on his heels and headed back for the holding. Bade pulled the ringer again. The servant whipped back, scowling, and snatched the cord.

  “Lord Henry is sleeping. If you knew anything about him, you’d leave before you woke him up.”

  “Tell him Sir Bade of Bulgaria requests an audience.”

  “Sir Who of What?” The young man’s mouth gaped. “That means nothing to me. You mean nothing to me. Get out of here before I release the alligators.”

  Bade didn’t know what sort of creature he referred to, but didn’t take it as much of a threat from the weakling guarding the door. Bade reached inside the gate and twisted the lock. He needed to speak to the lord of the island, get permission to carry out or at least inform him of his intentions, and then get back to Alice.

  “Hey, you can’t do that,” the miniscule man yelled.

  Bade strode past him.

  Strange animals crept from the surrounding waters, lowlying creatures on four legs with bumps on their backs and wicked teeth. Intriguing, but nothing to distract him from his mission. He slammed the holding door closed, leaving the lackey to play with the alligators. Perhaps he’d study their eating habits after the dragons were born and flourishing. They seemed reptilian in nature—maybe even a relative of the animals he loved.

  He stepped into a dank room, much smaller and darker than the outside led him to expect. Nothing shone with any sign of wealth. In fact, it paled in comparison to Alice’s modest home. The walls crumbled in several places with no show of even attempted repair. Perhaps he was wasting his time in the home of the island’s lord.

  “Stewart? Who was ringing? It wasn’t that filthy bitch Alice, was it? I owe her nothing. Well, I owe her, but since there’s no dragon for her to charm next month, there’s no need to pay her for services already rendered.”

  Bade followed the commentary to a cramped kitchen reeking of bacon fat. A rotund fellow in a night wrapper shoveled up pork from a large plate in front of him, grease dripping from his white beard. He shot to his feet, knife in hand.

  “Where’s Stewart?”

  “If you mean the sour fellow who wears his wrapper short, he’s currently occupied with the large-toothed creatures outside. You’re lord of this island?”

  “I am. Who are you?”

  “Sir Bade of Bulgaria. I am here at the behest of my family to increase our flock.”

  “Fine.” Lord Henry sat again and picked up a piece of bacon with the tip of his knife. “Taxes are fifteen percent, collected once a year.”

  “Used for what? The harbor is a mess and the roads deplorable.”

  The obese lordling scowled. “It’s for the dragon charmer. The bitch charges a fee. A fee I’m expected to pay.”

  “On an island no longer housing a dragon.” Bade lied, knowing full well it would soon support half a dozen more. But if Lord Henry wasn’t going to ask about his flock, Bade saw no need to tell him.

  “Fine, five percent of your yearly earnings,” Lord Henry muttered. “A man has to eat.”

  “Fair enough.” Bade pulled out a small bag and shook it. “Will you accept a lump sum in advance instead? Am I now a citizen of this fine place?”

  Henry poured the coins into his palm, greed and pleasure in his jowly face. “Yes, sure, whatever. Citizen, welcome.”

  Bade turned, satisfied his dragons would have the time they needed to reach maturity. Once they did, the ruler could try whatever he wanted. The old lord wouldn’t see a decade out anyway. Bade pulled out his sword then opened the front door. Stewart held tight to a limb of a tree to the left of the door. The beasts prowled around the trunk.

  “What did you call those things?” Bade asked.

  “Alligators. They are exotics the island has hosted for years. Toss them some grub from that bucket over there so they’ll let me down.”

  Bade wrinkled his nose and drew the bucket of stinking, rotten flesh down from a branch. Fish heads and fat swam together in a horrible mixture. At the creaking of the pulley, the animals turned and stared at him with predatory eyes.

  He dipped out some slop and tossed it well away from him. The alligators waddled over and bent to gobble their meal. Similar to dragons, but without the wings for balance and grace, they interested him nonetheless. Stewart shimmied down the tree, glaring at the clumsy beasts.

  “Wish me good day,” Bade said, ignoring his scowl and feeling grand in success. “I’m now an Aden Island citizen.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that,” Stewart muttered, brushing past him. “You’re going to need it. Shut the gate before you leave, if you don’t want them following you.” He disappeared into the holding.

  Bade hurried out onto the street, but spent another long moment observing the alligators through the gate. If such large beasts did well on land with limited water and space to roam, it meant good things for dragons. He headed back to the cottage. The island’s occupants weren’t exactly welcoming, but he’d found home.

  Chapter Six

  Scratching and whining roused Alice from her stupor. She frowned toward the fire, wondering if Bade had left a chicken or some other little critter in her home. He seemed a good sort, maybe even the best sort, but she didn’t know what kind of crazy things Bulgarians did. She shifted her weight, careful of her healing stump and put her feet on the floor.

  Her head didn’t spin like it had the last few days when she’d stumbled to the outhouse. All the food Bade had shoved down her gob seemed to have increased her strength.

  Without her arm, dressing had become a challenge, but she wriggled until she had her wrapper over her night shift. If not for the chill, she might have gone without. Bade had seen her partially clothed often enough to not get all male and grunty. The scuffling from the box near the fire continued. She found her balance, an elusive thing she’d never considered until losing her arm. Her mother said she’d walked early and effortlessly.

  Maybe she’d underestimated herself.

  She continued toward the sound, grabbing her broom just in case something tried to take another chunk out of her. The handle felt awkward in her hand, and she didn’t know what she’d be able to do with it, but since she wasn’t dead, she needed to at least try to act like she was living. />
  Soft mewing made her think of a box of kittens, but when she kicked the kitchen towel away, her heart stuttered. Five shiny, green eggs rocked together, but the sixth shell lay in pieces around a tiny monster.

  She fell to her knees, holding her arm out to maintain balance when she veered left. This time she wasn’t sure if her injury screwed her up or if finding a baby dragon in her house sent her into shock again. She’d never seen one so small. Her grandmother had told stories of clutches of eggs found in the cliffs of Aden long before Alice’s time. Tales of Rusty as an egg and hatchling had been her favorites.

  Alice lifted the tiny, wiggling thing closer. It could be Rusty in miniature form. The wings stretched the length of her hand, the bones and veins outlined in intricate detail. Tiny squeals emerged as it stumbled around, as unbalanced as she sometimes felt. Beady eyes met hers, and the tiniest of puffs of smoke billowed from its mouth.

  Alice laughed, enchanted. She stroked the tiny body from head to tail. It shimmied away from her at first, but eventually curled up in her hand.

  Behind her, the door opened and heavy footfalls entered.

  “Ms. Alice, I hope you are hungry. I caught three squirrels on the way home and—what are you doing?”

  She turned and held out her hand. “Look who is here.”

  Bade dropped his catch and flew to her, sliding in on his knees to peer into the box. “Only one?”

  “The others are still in their shells.”

  “Let me see the newborn.”

  She held the little one close to her body, but turned for Bade to see better.

  “Ah, a male. Very good. The head and tale base are wide—but you probably know that. That means a boy. Give him to me.”

  “Nope.” Alice wished for her other hand to stroke the little one’s spiny back. “He’s resting. What does he eat? Is it true they subsist on blood for the first four years of their life?”

 

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