A Dragon and Her Girl

by Max Florschutz

  She would have smiled, if her unicorn lips could bend that way. In order to drink, she had to drop the lamp. Where better than into the pool? The water was clear enough she could see the sand on the bottom, see the tiny fish darting away from her shadow. Jadwiga’s lamp could use a good wash. She opened her mouth, let it tumble into the pool, then carefully planted one hoof on top. It wouldn’t do to lose her best hope of becoming herself again.

  But what am I? All I can think of is four hooves, a horn, long tail. The longer I’m a unicorn, the more it feels natural. What was I before this morning?

  She watched her reflection for a minute, then dipped her head toward the water. Sand fountained up in a bubbling froth. She jerked her head back. The lamp slipped away in the sudden vortex of erupting water. Her hooves pawed frantically at the sand as she searched for it again. A plume of magenta water spread and dissipated across the pool. The air suddently smelled of roses. A spout hit Phaedra square in the face. She closed her eyes, shaking her head to clear the water away.

  “What have you done?” Jadwiga’s ear-splitting shriek echoed off the cliffs. She lay half in the water, large fish tail flopping behind her. “You flooded my house. And—Augh! I’m a mermaid?!”

  The sand settled. Phaedra quit panicking. The lamp was not far off, on its side in the clear water. The pink hue and the rose smell faded away.

  Serves you right for babbling so much. Now we’re matched. I’m a unicorn, a black unicorn in the desert heat, and you’re now an aquatic creature in a land with very little water.

  Jadwiga splashed water with furious fists. “I should have smelled the magic, but the stench of sweaty horse was too strong. I think this might be a shape-changing spring.” She narrowed her eyes, still half-hidden under the filmy head scarf and bead fringe. “Wait just one moment. You’ve been here before. You were changed into a unicorn, weren’t you?”

  Phaedra shook her head, paused in confusion, then nodded.

  Jadwiga backed away from the bobbing horn as rapidly as her fishy bottom half would allow. “Let me guess, you want me to use your first wish to turn you back.”

  Phaedra whinnied agreement.

  “Sorry, sweetheart, horse noises don’t count. You have to use words or I can’t grant the wish. Rules are rules, you know.” Jadwiga scooted backwards into a deeper puddle. “Besides, I’m a mermaid now, temporarily, not a djinn, so it’s a moot point. The change spell doesn’t feel very strong. Very temporary change. May as well get comfortable and enjoy it. Hey, I’ve got an idea. Take a nice long drink and we’ll see what you change into. Might be something useful, might be something not. These things are completely random. But at least it would be entertaining. And while you’re at it, you can fish out my lamp and set it on the shore to dry. Pour out the water first, otherwise the carpets might mildew.” She flopped onto her belly and slid into the deeper stretches of the oasis pool. With a flip of her tail, she disappeared under the water.

  This doesn’t seem to be your first transformation, sweetheart. What were you before you became a djinn?

  Phaedra eyed the water. She was beyond thirsty and it looked very cool and refreshing. She lowered her head, nostrils flared. It smelled like water, nothing more. With a mental shrug, she sucked in a long drink. The cool water slid down her throat, easing the dust of the sandy trek. When she didn’t change, she kept drinking until her thirst was satisfied.

  She stood, fetlock deep, and waited while the water cleared. The lamp lay a few steps away, submerged on its side. A thin stream of fuchsia smoke leaked from the spout to dissipate in the pool. Maybe she’d caused the change spell when she’d dropped the lamp. If something of Jadwiga’s had spilled and contaminated the oasis, it would explain a lot.

  How do I know so much about magic? Was I a sorceress?

  Phaedra closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself as a human. Two legs, two arms, hands, fingers, eyes facing forward. Her tail flicked a fly from her rump and broke her concentration. Try as she might, she couldn’t forget four legs and the horn on her head, although the idea of hands seemed strangely familiar. She pawed the sand with her front hoof. Definitely not a hand, but still useful.

  Blazes, but it’s hot out here. Strange, I don’t remember heat bothering me.

  She trotted toward the stand of palm trees and the promise of shade. She splashed through the water up to her knees, then kicked up more. The cool droplets rained across her back alleviating some of the heat.

  She passed from light to shade, then stopped dead. What was that smell? Strange, but familiar and not quite pleasant. She planted her legs and drew a deep breath through flared nostrils. Her ears twitched, alert for any sound. Something crouched under a bush, breath heaving though whatever it was tried to stifle it. She took one slow step toward the creature, teeth bared in threat.

  It bolted along the edge of the oasis. Her teeth clamped shut on a ragged robe that tasted of rancid goat.

  Delicious.

  She planted her feet, staring in shock. She wanted to eat rancid goat?

  The man she had caught shrieked, high and thin. He waved limbs so coated in dust he looked gray. He shimmied up and down in the robe trying to escape her hold.

  She shook him until he stopped shrieking and wiggling. He hung limp, too heavy for her teeth. She dropped him into the water.

  He screamed again, then stopped abruptly. He splashed as he sat in the shallow water, frowned, then splashed again. “No magic now? Where is the fish woman?” He glared at Phaedra.

  She blew air through her lips, huffing loudly. It was as close as she could come to laughing. His hair framed his face in a most comical way, long and shaggy on one side, looking like he’d been sheared on the other side by a drunken shepherd. She stamped one hoof, then kicked toward the far end of the pool.

  “Did I hear correctly that she is one of the all-powerful, mighty djinni of the desert?” His glare changed to an expectant look. “At least when she is not half-fish?”

  Phaedra rolled her eyes.

  The man rose to his feet. “If she is indeed a most magical djinn, then whoever holds her lamp is assured three wishes. Where is the lamp?”

  It was Phaedra’s turn to glare. She lowered her horn until it pointed at the man’s throat.

  He pushed it aside with an impatient brush of his hand. “You do not appreciate our opportunity, o most magnificent of stallions. I am Ach­mineedees, a scholar of no small renown. But alas, I have fallen on difficult times. The Sultan of Raisinetti did not approve of my sense of humor. And neither did his thirty-seven wives. He had me banished to the desert to perish of thirst. But fortunately, I carried a waterskin. I stumbled on this oasis not long ago but did not dare drink, especially not after seeing your companion transformed into a partial fish.”

  Phaedra tapped one foot in a most menacing manner. He thought she was a stallion and he still had the nerve to call himself a scholar? She lowered her horn again, letting the light gleam along its length, to sparkle off the end. It was a most pointed horn.

  “Yes,” Achmineedees continued after pushing the horn aside again, “as I was saying, we have an opportunity here. If you show me the lamp, once she turns back into a djinn, I shall be the one holding the lamp. I shall wish you to be human—”

  Phaedra snorted. Something about being human didn’t sit right.

  “—for my first wish,” Achmineedees continued as if she had not interrupted him. “Then I shall pass the lamp to you for your three wishes. But,” he held one finger in the air, “you must return the lamp to me for my remaining two wishes or you will revert back to this form. I will make that a condition of my first wish. You make a magnificent unicorn, but I sense it is not your true form.”

  What if I’m getting to enjoy it? If I could speak, it would be quite a nice form to keep. She swished her tail, enjoying the slide of hair across her back. Built in flyswatter, nice for traveling, a horn for menacing ­people. Really, what downside is there to being a unicorn? Aside from the penchant for virg
ins and the inability to speak. Why did unicorns want virgins anyway? They are rather tender and tend to be quite juicy with a nice crunch—

  “I said,” Achmineedees said quite loudly, “do we have a deal?”

  She hadn’t been listening, she’d been remembering the taste of virgins sliding down her throat, their screams still lingering. Or was that sheep? Same difference. What had the silly man proposed? Ah, yes. He’d make her human so she could have three wishes. If she were human, she could speak and make wishes. Then she’d give the lamp to him for his wishes. She smiled inside where he couldn’t see, not that unicorns could smile. They mostly stood in regal poses with the wind blowing their manes. Foolish beasts. That was the downside of being a unicorn, everyone else laughed at their boorish airs.

  She whinnied and lifted one hoof.

  “Close enough to a handshake,” Achmineedees said as he touched her hoof. “Now, where is that lamp?”

  Phaedra gave him her best “follow me” look, then turned to trot back across the oasis. The lamp lay on its side in the clear water, which had a decided pink tint again. The air smelled faintly of roses. Phaedra sneezed.

  Achmineedees clapped his hands in delight then plunged them toward the lamp. He started shrieking as they dipped into the pinkish water. He kept shrieking while the spell wound up and around him, like a dancer teasing with her veils. The scent of roses waxed stronger until it became a cloying stench.

  Phaedra turned her head, backing away and trying not to breathe. She didn’t look back until the screaming subsided. It ended on a high and decidedly feminine note. Achmineedees was no longer a scrawny, unimpressive man. He was now a most buxom and shapely young woman. His, no her, hair was still a wild tangle sheared short on one side, long on the other. Even in the rancid goat rag of a tunic, she was quite becoming.

  “What villainy is this?” Achmineedees clapped hands over her voluptuous lips. “Is that my voice?” She sang a trilling melody, then giggled. Then clapped her hands over her mouth again.

  “Who is messing with my spells?” Jadwiga marched out of the deeper water, not quite back in her djinn form but much less of a fish and more of a human, albeit a male one now. She stopped short at the sight of Achmineedees. “You didn’t! How did you?”

  “I have no idea what you’re babbling about.” Achmineedees stamped her shapely foot, sending up a spray of pinkish rose-scented water.

  Phaedra backed away quickly. She had no desire to be caught in whatever shape-shifting, gender-swapping magic Jadwiga kept in her home.

  Achmineedees and Jadwiga dove for the lamp at the same time. Achmineedees held it triumphantly above her head. Her sleeves slid down to reveal slender arms. Jadwiga bellowed, deep and masculine, and reached for the lamp.

  Achmineedees clutched it to her large bosom. “I wish for everything to be as it was!”

  Phaedra ducked her head and charged forward, horn aimed for the loop of handle. She barreled between the two humans, knocking them both backwards into the water. The lamp clanged onto her horn just as everything slowed.

  It was as if the world had suddenly been coated in honey. Jadwiga’s bellow of rage dragged out as he tumbled in a spray of water. Ach­mineedees fell the other direction. Phaedra stumbled in the water on legs suddenly clumsy. The scent of roses thickened to an almost tangible level.

  The sandy bed of the oasis pool rose to meet her. Slowly. Oh, so slowly. Her legs tingled, an itch that spread rapidly until every inch of hide shivered. She reached forward with one forefoot to catch herself from her fall. What landed in the water was not a horse’s hoof. Not even close. Five very large clawed and scaled toes smashed into the sand.

  The honey cleared. The rose smell shifted to sun, sand, water, and date palms with a thick overlay of wet rancid goat. Phaedra’s second front foot smashed down. Five large claws dug into the bottom of the pool. Something metallic clanged against her forehead. She’d managed to catch the lamp on one of her horns.

  Horns? Yes, horns. Five of them in a crown across my skull.

  The weight of them was all too familiar. She whipped her massive tail and let loose a long bellow. She wasn’t surprised to see flames shooting from her mouth.

  “This is more like it.” She turned to find Achmineedees sprawled on the bank of the pool, looking like a fish gasping for breath. She plucked him up with one front claw. He hung from his tunic, too shocked to move while she inspected him. He was as grubby and unkempt as when she first startled him from the bushes. She snorted a smoke ring into his face, then dropped him in a coughing heap on the shore.

  “Your turn,” she said, rounding on the djinn.

  Jadwiga floated on her fuchsia smoke cloud at Phaedra’s eye level. “You wouldn’t dare hurt me. We have a treaty. Dragons don’t interfere with djinnis and we leave your hoards alone.” She folded her arms and tried to look defiant. Her nervous twitching destroyed the effect.

  “Oh, I don’t intend to interfere, but I’m still holding your lamp.”

  “Dragons don’t get wishes.” Jadwiga’s voice squeaked and her lips trembled but she held eye contact.

  “You offered me wishes when I was a unicorn. They are not allowed wishes, either, as part of the nonproliferation of magic treaty, unless my memory is false. Which it might be since someone turned me into a unicorn!” The last came out in a wreath of fire.

  Jadwiga waved her hand, turning the flames to a shower of rose ­petals. “I was bored. Unicorns can’t talk and so can’t make wishes. Nothing would have come from it. And besides, I wasn’t the one who turned you into a unicorn.”

  Phaedra narrowed one of her giant green eyes. “Are you sure about that? You seem to have plenty of transformation spells inside your lamp.”

  Jadwiga’s face paled, color draining to leave even her smoke cloud white. “He made me do it!”

  “Who?” The water around Phaedra began to steam.

  “I have a theory,” Achmineedees spoke.

  “No one asked you.” Phaedra kept her glare focused on the djinn as she reached behind to pluck the scholar from the sand. She dangled him from his tunic. “Shut up, silly little man.”

  Achmineedees snapped his mouth shut.

  “He made me do it. I’m sorry I made you a unicorn. You were a very pretty one, too. I especially liked the black—”

  “Stop babbling and tell me his name!”

  “Wait,” Achmineedees said as he waved a finger at Phaedra. “You’re a mare, not a stallion?”

  Phaedra spat out a stream of fire. The oasis boiled energetically.

  Achmineedees let out a high-pitched scream as Jadwiga shouted a name.

  Phaedra snapped her mouth shut then dunked Achmineedees toward the boiling water until he shut up. She stopped just shy of the surface. He tried to climb up her claw away from the steam. She shook him off onto the sandy beach.

  “My own brother did that to me?” she said when it was finally quiet again.

  “He said he’d arrange a fate worse than death for me if I didn’t do it.” Jadwiga cringed away from the angry dragon, but not very far. Phaedra still held her lamp. “He was going to make me marry him.”

  “The traitor who turned himself human and declared himself the Sultan of Raisinetti?”

  Achmineedees gasped.

  Jadwiga blushed. “He used all three wishes. I didn’t have a choice!”

  Phaedra chuckled. “Oh, this is rich. He was going to make you wife thirty-eight if you didn’t turn me into a unicorn?”

  “He was going to smash my lamp first. And the Lord of the Djinn was going to allow it.” Jadwiga’s voice trailed off into a mumble.

  “What was that? I’m pretty good at smashing things, too.” Phaedra reached for the lamp with two very large talons.

  Jadwiga sagged into her pink cloud. “He said I’d overstepped my bounds and needed to be taught a lesson.”

  “You definitely need a lesson,” Phaedra said. “Do you have a love potion in your lamp, by any chance?”

  “What f
or?” Jadwiga lowered her eyebrows in a suspicious glare.

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.” The djinn’s shoulders slumped. “Your brother is horrid. I don’t want to marry him. Not even a love potion will make me want him.”

  “It isn’t for him. And I agree he’s a toad. He’s also about to be deposed.” Phaedra smiled the frightening and toothy smile of a dragon. “For my first wish, Achmineedees here needs to be young, handsome, and a lot more muscular. And he needs to smell like something other than a rancid goat.”

  Jadwiga screwed up her face, fighting the wish. She finally sighed. “Since I promised you wishes, I have to grant them, despite the treaty. Done.” She waved her hand.

  “Hey!” Achmineedees cut his protest short when he caught sight of his new, much improved profile and haircut. He used a large scale on Phaedra’s rump as a mirror, posing in front of it. She ignored him.

  “Now it’s time for that love potion.” Phaedra pinched the lamp off her horn, then carefully turned it upside-down and shook it.

  “Watch out for the china,” Jadwiga shrieked. “It’s Wedgwood. And probably smashed,” she finished as Phaedra gave the lamp an extra hearty shake.

  A small bottle of pink liquid tumbled to the sand.

  “What’s your third wish?” Jadwiga asked.

  “Second,” Phaedra corrected. “The love potion was not a wish. And don’t try arguing semantics with me.” She hissed a long streamer of smoke.

  “Second,” Jadwiga agreed.

  “Achmineedees, pick up the potion and drink half. Then give it to Jadwiga.” Phaedra smiled. “And when you have both drunk and looked deeply into each other’s eyes until the spell takes full effect, I wish for us to appear at the palace of the Sultan of Raisinetti.”

  The dragon watched as the human and the djinn drank the potion, gazed at each other, and became totally smitten. She had to interrupt the kissing with a loud harrumph.

  Jadwiga, enveloped in Achmineedees strong and muscular arms, waved her hand. “Done.”

  Air rushed past as they were whisked across the desert to the sumptuous palace of the Sultan of Raisinetti. They landed in the courtyard amid a screaming scatter of terrified guards.