A Dash of Dragon

by Heidi Lang

  “What? No, that’s not how it was at all,” Lailu said, unable to stop herself.

  “No?” Greg asked innocently. “You mean, you knew it would be bad? I thought you said it was just a chicken.”

  “You said it was just a chicken!” Lailu had been terrified, but in the face of Greg’s easy confidence she hadn’t been able to admit it. Even though the smell of charred feathers had clung to her nose, and there had been all those blackened bones scattered around the creature’s hut . . . Lailu shuddered. She didn’t like to think about that hunting trip. Why was Greg bringing it up now? This was no time to get distracted.

  She sped up, but Greg just quickened his own step, his longer legs keeping pace with her easily, Hannah huffing and puffing next to him. Lailu tried to ignore them both, instead examining the rocks ahead. Searching for . . . There! Blackened rocks, patches of soot-stained trees, and a few places where the dirt itself seemed to be melted and glassy. Clear evidence of a mountain dragon’s trail.

  “So then what happened?” Hannah asked.

  Lailu shot her a dark look.

  “What?” Hannah asked. “You’ve never told me this story.”

  “There’s a reason for that,” Lailu grumbled.

  Greg’s grin flashed wickedly. “So then I told Lailu, ‘If this doesn’t look so bad, then you grab the chicken while I collect the eggs.’ ”

  “That’s not what you said at all!” He’d actually said if she wasn’t chicken, she should face the chicken herself. She’d had no idea he would be using her as a distraction so he could get the eggs. And all the credit from their instructor, too. The only thing Lailu had gotten was a nice, sharp blast of fire to her—

  “Maybe you’d like to tell the rest of the story, then, hmm?” Greg was wearing that look again, the one that made her want to punch him.

  “No, I wouldn’t,” Lailu snapped. “Unlike some people, I’m actually trying to work here.”

  Greg shrugged, her words washing over him like steam from a kettle. “Well, just then the fyrian chicken came out,” he resumed, his voice as relentless as the chicken he was describing. “And you have to understand, this was no ordinary chicken. Just looking at its eyes, I could tell . . . it was evil.”

  Lailu closed her own eyes, momentarily picturing the fyrian chicken in all its ugly chicken glory. Coming up to her hip, it had a large orange beak, and blackened feathers that seemed to be molting, leaving red, irritated bald spots. Its black eyes seemed to focus on her, and her alone . . . but the worst part was the second chicken sneaking up from the side. She hadn’t even seen that one coming. Or the third one on the other side. Or the fourth one crouching down behind the others.

  She shook her head, trying to clear the image from her mind. And then she realized they were in the perfect place to set up their trap. Thank the gods. “This is the spot.” She dropped her bag.

  “It kind of cocked its head, gave a large ‘buckaw,’ and then its friend tiptoed out from the side.”

  “Its friend?” Hannah asked.

  “Oh yes. Apparently fyrian chickens flock together. Lailu and I should have known that, but we were busy, er, discussing our strategy when that little tidbit of information was shared with the class.”

  “You mean arguing.” Hannah grinned.

  “This is the spot,” Lailu repeated a little louder.

  “Arguing. Discussing. With Lailu it’s all the same. Anyhow, suddenly there was a flock of chickens, all charging right at us. I dove expertly out of the way, but Lailu . . . Lailu screamed like a six-year-old girl and took off running, arms waving and everything. No matter how fast she ran, the chickens were on her like flies on fruit, their little bucbucbucs echoing around the pen. And if that wasn’t funny enough, one of the chickens decided it liked its Lailu well-done. So it opened its—”

  “I said, this is the spot!” Lailu glared at both of them.

  Greg blinked and looked around. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure,” Lailu said. “I’ve actually been paying attention. Again, unlike certain people who are supposed to be helping me.”

  Hannah had the grace to look a little embarrassed, but Greg just grinned. “Don’t worry, Hannah, I’ll tell you the rest later,” he stage-whispered.

  “I’m counting on it.” Hannah dropped her pack on the ground and sat gratefully next to it.

  They were in a small dip in the mountains with rock formations rising up on both sides, creating a narrow path. Dragons liked to walk the same trails, and the claw marks Lailu saw earlier proved they were in the right place. Once the dragon came through here attracted by the bait, they’d have it. It wouldn’t have enough room to maneuver its way out. Really, Lailu couldn’t have picked a better place if she’d designed it herself, and as much as she wanted to hate her former mentor, she had to admire Slipshod’s genius in finding it. The fact that he’d scouted out such a perfect spot made her wonder if he’d been planning on eventually taking her hunting here all along, before things got too rough for him.

  She pulled out a large hunk of half-frozen orc meat and plopped it on the ground.

  Hannah wrinkled her nose and inched away. The meat was a mottled grayish green, and even its long stint in Lailu’s freezer hadn’t taken away the smell.

  “What,” Greg said slowly, “is that?”

  “It’s orc meat.”

  “Okay. If you say so. But more important, why is it here?”

  Lailu scowled. “Bait. Obviously. Mountain dragons eat orcs.”

  “It looks a little . . . er, unappetizing. Sorry, Lailu!” Hannah added hurriedly. “Please don’t make me be the bait instead!”

  “Don’t worry, Hannah. I’d never make you into bait.” Lailu eyed Greg.

  “Is it just me, or is that orc meat suddenly looking better and better?” Greg prodded it with his boot.

  Lailu pulled a long coil of rope out of her bag, then a jar of super-sticky solution made from the honey of the legendary buzzard bees. “Let’s just get to work.”

  Wisely, Greg didn’t say anything more. Instead, he took one side of the rope and sat across from her, mirroring her as she tied knots to create a giant net. Hannah watched them, then began tying her own rather more creative knots.

  Lailu bit her lip. “Um, Hannah? Maybe you can coat the rope with this instead.” She held out the jar of buzzard bee honey. “Greg and I can take care of the knots.”

  “Oh.” Hannah looked crestfallen.

  “It’s just, it’s a really important part of the job, and with your eye for detail, I thought you should do it,” Lailu added.

  “Oh!” Hannah took the jar, looking much happier.

  Greg gave Lailu a small smile. She quickly turned back to the rope, her ears burning.

  As they worked, Lailu began to feel better and better about everything. So what if Master Slipshod had stabbed her in the back, taking all their earnings and abandoning her at the worst possible time? She didn’t need him. The sun was warm on her back, the smell of sage was all around her, and her plan was going to work, she just knew it.

  “Wow, Lailu, you sure are slow. I’m already on the next step here.” Greg grinned as he began staking his side of the net into the ground.

  Lailu’s jaw tightened. “Sorry if I don’t believe in rushing and doing a bad job.”

  “It’s a net, not a work of art.”

  “My nets are works of art,” Lailu snapped. “But obviously you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

  “You two really are competitive.” Hannah looked back and forth between them. “You sound like you must have been so fun at the academy.”

  “Well, I was fun,” Greg said. “But Lailu . . . did she ever tell you her nickname?”

  Lailu went hot, then cold. “Don’t you dare.” As if telling Hannah about the Incident wasn’t bad enough.

  “We used to call her—”

  “I said don’t, Greg!”

  “—Crabby Cakes,” he finished triumphantly. “You know, I’d almos
t forgotten about tha— Oof  !”

  Lailu tackled him, knocking him backward and into the stones piled on the side of the path.

  “Lailu!” Hannah gasped.

  “He swore he’d never call me that again,” Lailu snarled as Greg continued chuckling under her.

  “No, Lailu!” Hannah squeaked, so fearfully that Lailu stopped trying to punch Greg in his stupid face and turned.

  And found herself face-to-face with a mountain dragon, its yellow eyes narrowed into angry slits in the blue-gray of its rocky face.

  26

  THE KILL

  Lailu stared back at the dragon.

  It was huge, much bigger than she’d imagined, its head alone larger than she was, its body covered in dull slate-colored scales, good for blending in with its surroundings. Stony spikes ran down the dragon’s back, ending at the tip of its flattened tail, and smoke rose from its nostrils and through the gaps between its pointy teeth.

  Lailu was close enough to feel the heat radiating off it. How could she have been so foolish? Here she had a perfect ambush spot, and she was the one being ambushed. Trapped in her own trap!

  The dragon’s snout opened wide, and it roared so loud Lailu’s teeth rattled. She couldn’t move, couldn’t look away as it charged at her and Greg.

  Greg’s arms wrapped around her as he rolled them both out of the way and onto their feet. “Move it!” he hollered.

  Lailu gasped, the world suddenly slamming back into focus, and she dove behind a column of rock. The tail she had been admiring a second before crashed behind her, missing by inches. She turned her dive into a roll, springing back to her feet and sprinting to the next boulder, Greg right on her heels.

  Flames filled the air behind them as they tumbled behind the large rock, and Lailu remembered with a pang so sharp she thought her heart would stop completely: “Hannah! Oh, gods, Hannah!” She darted out, but Greg caught her, pulling her back as another blast of fire scorched the air around them.

  She struggled to get away from him, but he tightened his hold. “It’s all right, Lailu. It’s all right,” he gasped. “She’s hiding. She’s okay.”

  Lailu stopped struggling. “She’s okay?”

  “I’m okay!” Hannah yelled behind them. Lailu looked around to see Hannah peeking out from behind her own boulder. Set back a little from the main path, it towered over her, reassuringly tall and bulky. Really, it was a great place to hide.

  Lailu wilted against the rock. Her hands and knees were scraped and bloody from the sharp stones, but she barely noticed as she forced herself to take deep, calming breaths. Hannah was fine, and they had found their mountain dragon. This was no time for panicking.

  “What’s the plan here?” Greg asked.

  “Er,” Lailu said, realizing her original plan was no longer going to work.

  “Well, that was informative.”

  “Hey, my orc meat worked, didn’t it?”

  “I notice the dragon isn’t eating it,” Greg said dryly.

  The dragon snorted, crunching rocks under its large taloned feet as it stepped deliberately around the discarded hunk of meat and approached them.

  “Maybe it’s saving it for later?” Lailu suggested.

  “Maybe it doesn’t like meat that’s clearly been stashed in a cellar for weeks?”

  “I didn’t have time to get a fresh orc, okay?”

  The dragon roared, filling the air with the strong rotten-egg odor of the gases in its throat, and Lailu knew it was just a matter of minutes before it could use its fire-breathing capabilities again. She racked her brain. They needed a new plan, one that didn’t involve their sadly half-finished net. Or . . . could it still be useful?

  “Personally, I think we need to reuse our fyrian chicken plan,” Greg said.

  Lailu almost fell over. “Why do you keep bringing that up? You are a sick, twisted—”

  The rest of Lailu’s words were drowned out by the sound of the dragon roaring as it slammed its tail into their rock pile. Lailu and Greg cowered, protecting their heads as stones and dirt showered them.

  “Are you two seriously arguing now?” Hannah called.

  “I just thought we could do the same thing we did with the chickens. Remember? You distract the dragon, and then I’ll sneak around and take it out from behind.”

  Lailu scowled. “Oh yes, I remember. How could I not, when you’re so intent on mentioning it. Over and over.”

  The dragon slammed its tail into their rock pile again. This time the rocks trembled violently before settling.

  “Fine, here’s the plan,” Lailu said. “Greg, you distract the dragon, and I’ll get it from behind. Got it?”

  Greg opened his mouth to object, but Lailu was already moving, diving out from behind the rock and running as fast as she could past the dragon and across the narrow valley. She dove to the side, and was rewarded by the sound of shattering rock as the dragon tried to use its tail to swat her again. Scrambling to her feet, she turned and zigzagged behind rocks and around boulders. Mountain dragons were vicious and deadly, but they weren’t particularly agile. Not like the river dragons Slipshod had told her about.

  Still, she’d never get behind it at this rate, not unless it was distracted enough to turn. “Come on, Greg,” Lailu panted as she rolled behind another pile of rocks. And then she saw him, running silently at the dragon from the other side. Sneaking up on it from behind . . . that jerk! That was supposed to be her!

  He was close to it now, close enough to leap, but as he crouched, the dragon seemed to sense him there. Its tail flicked out, the spikes tearing toward his head. Lailu knew he wasn’t going to be able to move fast enough, and she was running without even realizing it.

  Throwing herself forward, she slammed into Greg and knocked him out of the way as the tail crashed down next to them. Her momentum carried them forward and down a slope in a rolling shower of dirt and rocks until they finally came to a stop against a canyon wall.

  Lailu’s heart hammered painfully against her rib cage, Greg’s body crushing her into the ground. “You idiot,” she panted. “You forgot about the tail!”

  He gave her a weak smile. “I knew you’d save me.”

  Lailu growled and pushed at his chest. He rolled off her, pulling her to her feet. As he started back up, she caught his arm. “Look, this is my dragon, and I want to be the one to bring it down. Got it?”

  “Yeah, I got it. Sorry.” He looked down at his feet.

  She let him go. “Just as long as that’s settled. Now let’s get us a dragon.” Together she and Greg scrambled back up the slope, each running in a separate direction. Lailu hid behind a rock as Greg pulled a large butcher’s knife from the sheath at his waist and sprinted at the dragon.

  The dragon’s head whipped around on its short, stubby neck as it followed Greg’s movements. At the last moment, Greg turned and ran away. It chased after him, its talons flinging up chunks of rock and dirt from the path. Greg lurched to the side, moving straight toward the net, then leaping nimbly over it. The dragon moved too fast to change direction and lumbered right into the ropes staked up on the side. Just as Lailu had hoped, the honey painted on the ropes worked well, oozing in between the dragon’s scales and causing the ropes to tangle around its legs.

  The dragon roared and crashed onto its knees. It tore frantically at the ropes with its teeth as Lailu inched toward its blind side. Just a little closer, she told herself. She just needed to get a little bit closer.

  The dragon turned suddenly, its head drawn back to let out another blast of fire. Lailu was too close to it to do anything but stand there, her meat cleaver raised defensively in her hand.

  “Lailu!” Hannah shrieked, leaping forward and throwing something into the air.

  Bam! Pop! Pop! Pop! Bam!

  The clear sky lit up in a multitude of colors and shapes. A loud explosion accompanied each flowering, fiery blossom, and Lailu stared at the display in awe.

  She shook herself and saw she wasn’t the
only one distracted by the colors in the sky; the dragon was staring at them too. Drawing back her cleaver, Lailu ran and leaped high onto the dragon’s neck.

  It reared, snarling. Lailu slipped down its rough back, desperately searching for purchase. She finally managed to get a good grip on one of its stony spikes, but already the dragon was twisting, trying to get a shot at her, its tail flying dangerously close to her head. Lailu tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the sound of Hannah yelling, of Greg calling out to her, of her heart beating too fast. Instead, she just concentrated on being quiet, still, and centered as she searched for the dragon’s single weak spot.

  There. Carefully hidden behind one of its bony ridges was the spot, slightly lighter in color than the rest, almost like the scales hadn’t grown in right there. Lailu let out her breath, her body empty and light and her mind completely focused. The cleaver left her hand, its aim sure and steady.

  As the blade buried itself to the hilt, the dragon gave one last roar, then collapsed.

  Lailu tumbled off, rolling across the ground and coming to a stop up against a boulder as Hannah and Greg raced over to her.

  “That was amazing!” Hannah crouched down in front of her, grinning, her teeth strangely white against her soot-stained face.

  “Amazing is right,” Lailu said as Hannah pulled her to her feet. “What in the name of cutlery was that?”

  “What?” Hannah asked innocently.

  “You know, that bizarre fire all over the sky and everything.”

  “It was—”

  “Nice job, team.” Grinning, Greg put one arm around Lailu’s shoulders and the other around Hannah’s. “Look at you!” he said, staring at Lailu. “You’re actually smiling.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m feeling pretty happy right now. It won’t last long, though, I promise.”

  “Good. I’d hate to think we’d lost our normal grouchy Lailu.”

  “Who’s grouchy?” Lailu demanded, pulling away from him.

  “And she’s back,” Greg said, laughing. “But at least I said ‘grouchy,’ right? I could have called you—”

  “It’s called a firework,” Hannah said quickly.