Thaddeus Whiskers and the Dragon

by H. L. Burke

  “Where is he?” she frowned. She zoomed the image in and out, revealing gold and gems galore. Then something great and green came into focus. Ambrosia and Hermes both gasped.

  “That kitten,” said Ambrosia, “is living with a dragon.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dragon Trouble

  Ambrosia tapped her fingernails against the crystal ball as they rode down the dusty, bumpy country road. She’d wanted to take her basket, but Uncle Hermes had insisted on coming. Her basket couldn’t carry two. Considering he’d set up the meeting with Josiah, she decided to be patient.

  They pulled up in front of Josiah’s unappealing shack just as the sun set behind the mountain. She winced at the possibility of spending the night there.

  The door opened, and two men stood framed in the light from inside. Ambrosia allowed Hermes to help her down from the wagon seat then went inside without him as he saw to the horses.

  “I am Josiah,” said the younger of the two men. He motioned to his companion. “This is Mayor Pendleton. He’s the one who let the kitten go in the first place.”

  Pendleton snorted. “You don’t keep cats in cages. They aren’t canaries, though I doubt canaries care much for cages either.”

  Ambrosia rolled her eyes at both men and brushed past them into the cottage. She took the best chair and stayed silent until Hermes arrived.

  “Josiah, why didn’t you tell me you had a dragon problem?” Hermes asked.

  “Because he is lazy and incompetent and doesn’t want to deal with it,” Pendleton answered.

  Josiah turned red. “Dragons aren’t in my job description.”

  Ambrosia pulled the hem of her skirt off the grimy floorboards. “So if I am understanding this correctly, you have allowed a dragon to settle unchallenged right at your back door? And said dragon has my kitten?”

  “That about sums it up. I’ve been trying to get him to deal with the beast for weeks now,” Pendleton said. “The blasted thing is eating the village livestock at a frightening rate.”

  “We need a knight,” Josiah said.

  “I’m not paying for a knight,” Pendleton mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Hermes turned to Ambrosia. “I can’t afford a knight, unless we can find one who works for cheap, and they generally don’t.”

  “Well, there is Sir Alaric,” Josiah said.

  Pendleton winced.

  “Sir Alaric?” Hermes asked.

  “Aye, the local knight, Pendleton’s nephew.” Josiah pointed at the mayor. “You want to get rid of the dragon so badly, but did you even consider asking your own nephew?”

  Ambrosia stood and stepped towards Pendleton. “Your nephew is a knight? Why didn’t you say so immediately?”

  Pendleton’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I, um, don’t like to talk about him much. He’s, er, not much of a knight.”

  “I will see for myself. Take me to him,” Ambrosia ordered. “Stay here, Uncle. I will deal with the knight.”

  “Before you go,” Hermes cleared his throat, “when I enchanted the kitten I wanted to make him extra fluffy–”

  “No time right now,” Ambrosia cut him off. “I have a knight to hire.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Knight for Hire

  As a boy, Alaric had wanted to be a knight in the worst way. Unfortunately, Alaric was one of those unfortunate people who do everything in the worst way.

  On his first day of training, he’d gotten lost, shown up late to class, and broken an ankle running across the field to catch up to the other squires. He spent the next several weeks on crutches, watching everyone else train.

  Things did not improve from there. He broke windows during archery practice (windows that weren’t even behind his target). He bent his sword in fencing class, and when it came to riding, well, the horses laughed at him.

  He graduated, but he suspected his uncle had bribed the instructors. That or they simply did not wish to see him again.

  Alaric had no misconceptions about his own skill, or lack thereof. He was a knight, but in the absolutely worst way. Because of this, it was not surprising that his uncle didn’t ask him to help with the dragon. Alaric did offer, of course, but Uncle Pendleton had raised his eyebrows and said, “Really, Alaric? Do you think that is wise?”

  Honestly, Alaric didn’t, but he still felt he should offer. After all, he was a knight. He had a certificate and everything.

  On this particular evening, Alaric sat before his fire with a good book. He expected no company, and no company expected him, so he was surprised when there came an insistent rapping on his door.

  He opened the door and found himself facing his uncle and a lovely lady.

  Lovely ladies did not often call on Alaric. He wasn’t that sort of knight. Which is why, when he saw the lovely lady, his mouth dropped open.

  Uncle Pendleton rolled his eyes. “Don’t swallow a fly, boy.”

  Alaric shut his mouth.

  The lady glided inside and sat in Alaric’s chair. “I hear you are a knight.” She eyed him dubiously.

  “I have a certificate,” Alaric explained.

  She raised her eyebrows, sniffed, and shrugged. “Beggars can’t be choosers. You’ll have to do. Knight, I need you to fetch me a kitten.”

  Alaric mulled this over. That task did not sound particularly knightly. On the plus side, though, that meant he could probably do it.

  “All right,” he said.

  Pendleton stepped forward. “Lady Ambrosia, you have left out several essential details.”

  “We’ll get to those shortly.” Ambrosia waved him off. “I have a plan of sorts. Really, it is quite simple. You’ll just walk in, collect the kitten, and bring it back to me.”

  Alaric nodded, considering all the places he’d ever seen kittens: barns, fireside with bowls of cream, stuck in trees . . . none of those places seemed that intimidating. Though he wasn’t fond of barns, they aggravated his hay fever, but he could endure that for a few minutes, long enough to fetch a kitten.

  “All right.” He nodded again.

  “Good.” Ambrosia smiled. “There’s just the small matter of the dragon, but that shouldn’t be a problem for a sturdy knight such as yourself.”

  Alaric gaped. “Dragon? I thought you wanted a kitten?”

  “The dragon has adopted the kitten.” The lady shrugged as if such a detail mattered not at all.

  Alaric’s knees wobbled. He had long ago hoped to be the sort of knight who could defeat a dragon. However, years of experience had taught him he was the sort of knight who was eaten by dragons. Alaric did not want to be eaten. He opened his mouth to say as much but closed it when Ambrosia stood.

  “I’m certain a strong, capable knight like you will have no trouble at all,” she cooed. “Still, I can give you a little help. There is no need for you to fight the dragon. You must only claim the kitten. Sneak in and out unseen. I know a spell that will be just the thing.” She tapped his arm.

  Chills shot from her touch into his body. His skin grew cold, then numb, then weightless, as if his being were made of air.

  Uncle Pendleton gasped. “What did you do to him?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine,” Alaric assured him.

  Pendleton jumped and put out his hands as if feeling about in the dark. He found Alaric’s face. Alaric blinked and pulled back when his uncle squeezed his nose. He threw up his arms in defense. That was when Alaric realized his limbs were see-through.

  “The dragon won’t even know you are there.” Ambrosia patted his invisible head. “Waltz in, find the kitten, and bring him back.”

  Alaric grinned. Finally a knightly task he couldn’t possibly mess up.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sneezes in the Dark

  While Thaddeus loved to nap, he rarely chose to sleep at night. When the sun set, his energy rose, and wild moods would take him. Without even knowing why, he’d race about the cave, scattering coins like dried leaves.

  Usually Grandious sl
ept through such disturbances. Sometimes if Thaddeus grew too rambunctious, he’d open one eye and give a warning snort.

  When this happened, Thaddeus would freeze and watch him for a while, only to resume his mad circuit when Grandious’s snores rang out again. The dragon tolerated this. Like Thaddeus, he enjoyed a good nap and could make up for lost sleep the next afternoon.

  Tonight the moon lay just right in the sky for its beams to trickle over the mounds of gold. The silvery light created impish phantoms who taunted Thaddeus to catch them. He charged from one flitting ghost to the next, never able to get his paws on anything. Somewhere in his logical brain, Thaddeus knew he chased mere nothings. The hunter’s instinct, however, did not care. It compelled him to pounce and pursue. He planted his paws on an elusive shadow fiend and felt only cold gold.

  Another silhouette teased him from the corner. He sprang, twisting midair like an acrobat on a trapeze, and landed in a pile of gems. The jewels scattered with a sound similar to breaking glass.

  Glad no one had witnessed this defeat, he sat and washed his paws. A moth fluttered in, perhaps drawn to the moonlight reflecting off the treasure. Thaddeus followed it, keeping his belly to the ground. His ears and tail twitched. The insect led him deeper into the cave. It lighted on the dragon’s nose and folded its dust gray wings. Thaddeus slipped closer and waited.

  He did not fear Grandious, but as much as he wanted to, leaping upon the dragon’s snout as he slept would be rude. Possibly dangerous as well. He had full faith that Grandious would not intentionally harm him, but people often acted instinctively when awakened from a deep sleep. The dragon might bite first and ask questions later.

  So Thaddeus melted into the carpet of coins and waited for the moth to move on.

  Clink.

  Thaddeus jerked to his paws and whipped his head towards the sound.

  Clink, clink, clink.

  Something disturbed the coins. Fearing Snickersnout and his rat minions had returned, Thaddeus considered waking Grandious. However, at that moment, the moth fluttered into the air, distracting the kitten. He bounced after the bug, delighted to have something real to chase.

  Thaddeus leaped and found himself floating. He wriggled, working his legs, clawing for a foothold and finding only air. He tried to meow, but an invisible hand clamped over his mouth. From what he could see, nobody held him, but nobody certainly had a good grip.

  His captor walked over the gold with quiet clinking. Thaddeus squirmed. Grandious slept on. The kitten wanted to cry. He’d lost his princess. Was he about to lose his dragon, too?

  The entrance to the cavern grew closer. Thaddeus squirmed but to no avail.

  All is lost, Thaddeus thought. I am lost. Again!

  His invisible captor froze, then shuddered, shaking poor Thaddeus ‘til his teeth rattled.

  “Ahchoo!”

  The forceful sneeze sent Thaddeus flying. He clattered into the coins and rolled. Again a sniff and a snort exploded in the air.

  Grandious’s head and neck rose.

  “Meow!” Thaddeus called out. “Grandious!”

  “Ah . . . ah . . . ah . . . kerchew!”

  “Who is in my cave?” Grandious roared. He flapped his wings, sending a gust of air across the cavern. Smoke snaked from his nostrils.

  “Eep!” With a shriek the invisible being leaped forward, scattering coins in his wake. Thaddeus scrambled out of the way.

  Flames shot across the cave. The intruder yelped and rushed from the dragon’s cavern, marked by a trail of smoke.

  Thaddeus bounded to Grandious and rubbed up against his scaly chest.

  Grandious bent to nuzzle the kitten. “Are you all right, little friend?”

  Thaddeus purred.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Into Her Own Hands

  Hermes winced as his niece paced from one side of Pendleton’s parlor to the other. The knight, Alaric, had returned a few hours before, alive but seared and kitten-less.

  “Fools! I’m surrounded by fools!” Ambrosia ranted.

  Lying on the couch, his bandaged behind elevated with pillows, Alaric blushed.

  “I’m sorry, my lady,” he called out. “I held my sneezing in for as long as I could, but something in that cave aggravated my hay fever.”

  “It was the kitten,” Hermes explained. “An unfortunate side effect of the fluffification spell.”

  Ambrosia turned on him, her eyes flashing. “Well, that would’ve been nice to know before I sent a knight after him.”

  Hermes’s mouth dropped open. He had tried to tell her. Not wishing to risk her further wrath, he nodded. He was beginning to regret inviting Ambrosia to the palace. Her quest to be queen was bringing out the worst in her. Perhaps when it was over she'd return to her usual, lovely self. Until then he'd humor her.

  “Of all the foolishness, a kitten who lives with a dragon and causes uncontrollable sneezing fits in idiots.”

  Alaric gaped at her.

  “I’m sorry,” Hermes mouthed.

  “Not in idiots, my dear,” he then said aloud, “just in those sensitive to such things. Myself and the princess were unaffected. Only the king and maybe a third of the court suffered the ill-effects.”

  “A fat lot of good that does me. Now that this fool has poked his big, dripping nose into the cave, the dragon will be on the watch. What interest does a dragon have in keeping a kitten?”

  “Maybe he likes the company,” Hermes suggested.

  Ambrosia snorted. “And maybe I find young children adorable and pleasant.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Let’s not be ridiculous, Uncle.” She tapped one finger against her lips. “No, I see I shall have to take care of this myself. I will need to borrow your magical books. All of them.”

  Hermes nodded. “Of course, my dear. As soon as we get back to the palace.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The Best of Both Worlds

  For several days after the invisible invasion, Grandious paced about the cavern. He counted up gold coins and sorted his treasure. Finally, he admitted nothing was missing.

  “We must’ve chased him off before he grabbed anything.” He sniffed and settled back into the gold.

  Thaddeus wanted to tell Grandious that the thief hadn’t touched a single coin. He wanted to tell him that the whole thing had been a kidnapping attempt. He also wanted to point out that he was far more valuable than any of that cold, useless treasure.

  But he couldn’t talk, not to Grandious, so he just washed his paws and napped.

  Grandious reached out with a gigantic front talon and scooped up the tiny kitten. He placed Thaddeus in the crook of his elbow. Thaddeus purred.

  “I might try to negotiate with that skittish mayor.” Grandious yawned and curled himself around Thaddeus. “Cats like milk, don’t they? Perhaps some could be added into our weekly tribute. Maybe that is what you miss when the sadness comes into your eyes.”

  Thaddeus’s purr faltered. He missed Clarice, not milk. Still, he rarely dreamed of going home to the castle anymore. The thought of leaving Grandious was as miserable as the idea of never seeing the princess again. Perhaps Clarice could come and live at the cave, away from incompetent wizards and sneezing kings. That, indeed, would be the best of both worlds.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Magic

  Ambrosia picked through the contents of her uncle’s workbench, tossing aside dried up herbs and beetle shells and other useless items. Well, useless for her purposes, anyway. She needed specific ingredients, the fur of a blind cat, the bill of a lame duck, and the breath of a dead whale. She had found the first two items easily enough, but her uncle claimed to be all out of dead whale’s breath. Gathering more would take too long. She would have to use a reasonable substitution: bees' knees or essence of nightmare, something strong but subtle.

  Finally she found a bottle of gray smoke labeled “wolf’s howl.”

  “Perfect,” she murmured and tossed it into the cauldron. The glass shattered on impact and the vapo
r drifted out, mingling with the powdered duck bill and cat fur she’d placed there earlier. It snaked and twisted until the concoction resembled brown cotton candy.

  The hatch door to the tower room swung open, and Hermes poked his head in. He eyed the contents of the cauldron dubiously. “That looks . . . frightening.”

  She sniffed and slipped on a pair of leather gloves, specially coated to protect her from the fluffy looking magic. “It ought to be since it’s going to take out a dragon for me. It’s not as if those die easily.”

  Hermes’s mouth dropped open. “Die? You’re going to kill the dragon?”

  “Well, I’m certainly not going to adopt the blasted thing.” She scooped up the solid spell, crammed it into a tiny snuff box, and fastened the lid.

  “And what about the kitten?” her uncle asked, pulling himself the rest of the way into the room.

  “I’ve given that some thought.” She pulled a glass orb about the size of a cantaloupe from her sleeve. “This is an Orb of Containment. When thrown at a person or animal it surrounds them, shrinking them to fit if need be. Whatever causes the sneezes will be stuck inside the orb with the kitten.”

  Hermes nodded. “Clever, though it seems cruel to keep a creature in such a tiny case for too long, and I still haven’t found a cure for the–”

  “Not now, Uncle.” She slipped the orb back into her sleeve and fetched her flying basket. “I will be back shortly, with the kitten.” She climbed into her basket and shot out the window into the sky.

  Ambrosia preferred to fly at night. The dark suited her. She often took her basket out on jaunts beneath the cold stars, skimming tree tops and spooking bats and owls, enjoying the fresh air and the quiet. Tonight, however, was no pleasure stroll. Tonight she had a mission. She steered her basket towards the cavern and bumped to the ground.

  A line of yellow light crept out of the cave. Ambrosia reached into her pocket for the snuff box. She just needed to toss it at the dragon, and he would melt into a puddle of soup and scales. Opening the box, she twisted off a pinch and dropped it on the ground. The rocks hissed and steamed.