The gods hate me. There is no other explanation for this level of bullshittery.
Utterly defeated, I waded into the water to rinse the piss and broken dreams off myself before trudging back to my tower. Today was an absolute wash. Nothing left to do but shrug it off and plan for the next time. Maybe I’d enjoy a ganja cookie and have a tall glass of mead.
Yep. As I started on the path back, the day was already sounding better. The only good thing about my captivity was the wide variety of plant life. So, food and… well… more entertaining plants were never in short supply.
In the early days of my island exploration, I almost couldn’t believe the copious number of caapi vines lining the edge of the cliffs on the west side of the island. Chacruna shrubs sat tall and proud in near perfect rows, while marijuana plants competed for sunlight among the tall grass. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost believe they’d been planted by the dragon himself. I’d never seen those kinds of plants grow together in harmony in the wild. Not that I was complaining. There wasn’t much else to do on the island. Maybe that’s why he hardly ever moved. The thought of my captor sneaking off to brew ayahuasca tea while I slept was laughable, but my grandma always said nothing was impossible.
A deep voice reverberated through the ground, making me freeze. “Gideon, you could at least acknowledge that you hear me.”
Without thinking, I dove off the trail and hid behind a bush. My hands trembled as I struggled to pull a branch out of the way to peek out at the stranger. Then I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out.
Screeching pumas, it’s another dragon. My mind whirled at seeing the massive creature maneuver its long serpent body, in front of my tower, to glower down at my dragon.
‘Gideon,’ he said. Could all dragons talk, or was the newcomer special in some way? If they could, why the hell didn’t that blue bastard say anything to me for the past five years?
The newcomer was smaller than my captor. One lone horn rose from the right side of his head. His silver scales glittered in the morning sun, casting rays of light on the surrounding grass. Smoke rose from his nostrils as he snorted, then grabbed hold of one of Gideon’s long sea-foam green horns and shook violently. “Hey!” the silver dragon snapped. “Don’t ignore me, you beached whale. Get up.”
Gideon let out a long sigh, but made no move to stand.
So, he was still alive then, and his name was Gideon. Damn.
Annoyed, the silver dragon shook him again, then sat down. “At least tell me you’ve eaten. You’ll wither away if you keep on like this.”
His only response was another long sigh.
The silver dragon shook his head and looked off into the distance. “You know, that damn lich is dead. The lot of us are no longer trapped behind Volsog’s gate and the lands beyond are completely free rein. You’ll miss out on all the excitement if you remain here. I understand your pain but—”
“You don’t,” Gideon interrupted.
So, he can talk. I was seething. Years of talking to the walls like a madwoman and that donkey’s ass could have chimed in at any time.
His harasser paused, then lowered his head. “You’re right. I don’t. But you were a friend to my father, and I owe it to him not to let you rot away. So, get up and go eat or I’m not leaving.” When the dragon on the ground didn’t move, sparkles of lightning erupted from the silver dragon’s body. They raced down his scales until they collected in a frantic dance at the tip of his tail. “I’m not asking, Gideon.”
When Gideon didn’t move, the silver dragon whipped its tail against the blue one’s hide, provoking a snarl. Undeterred by my captor’s refusal to budge, the silver dragon stared him down. “Go eat,” he said again, this time with a hint of a threat in his voice.
The blue dragon finally gave in, rising to his full height with a grunt. “Fine. You win, Dante. I’ll go eat. But I’m not leaving this place.”
Dante blew out a relieved breath, and the sparks died down. “Thank you.”
The blue dragon started off in the opposite direction to my hiding spot. Dante watched him go, not moving until Gideon’s blue scales receded into the ocean waves.
My heart was pounding in my chest as I mentally replayed what had happened. So, there were other dragons around. Some of whom were incredibly pushy. I waited, crouched down in my hiding spot to see what the newcomer would do next. A gust of wind blew behind me, sending loose strands of curls to brush against my face. Annoyed, I brushed them back and shifted to sit on my heels.
Dante’s head snapped up, making me freeze.
Crap, did he hear me move?
His nostrils flared. The mane running down his back, puffed up like an angry cat as he sniffed at the air. I didn’t breathe. Couldn’t even if I wanted to. After a few agonizing seconds, the silver dragon’s body relaxed. His mane lost its poof as he let out a breath. “I must be imagining things,” he muttered, before gray smoke engulfed his entire body.
In the blink of an eye, a tall man dressed in a simple blue tunic and gray pants stood in the silver dragon’s place. The only sign left of the monstrous creature was the long silver hair and the lone horn adoring the left side of his head. I bit back a gasp, never having seen a dragon transform before. The dragon-man-whatever turned and entered my tower, but not before giving the area one last sweeping glance.
I waited a few minutes, making sure he was gone before I dared move. When I could finally breathe again, I let out a shaky laugh. “Well, that was close.”
I slowly stood up, brushing the dirt and leaves off my wet clothes. “Alright, let’s not panic,” I said to myself. “There’s another dragon-man-thing on the island and my raft is smashed to bits.” My hands fiddled with the ends of my hair as my body brimmed with nervous energy. “Escape isn’t an option, nor do we know if this new guy is friendly or a total dick. Judging by Gideon’s weird abduction kink, that one is probably a dick too.”
I glanced at my tower then paced back and forth to gather my thoughts. Walking up to a strange man and asking for a ride home wasn’t the best plan, even if the man was human. Let alone a dragon big enough to swallow you whole. He could sooner kill me than just say no. But I was a desperate woman. Desperate women do desperate things.
Swirling leaves danced around my feet. I looked down to find a thin caapi vine entangling itself around my ankle. Smiling, I plucked it free and ran my thumb over the deep green leaves. The innocent-looking little plant could pack one hell of a punch when brewed into ayahuasca. A few sips in had me feeling euphoric even on my loneliest days. “Maybe the Fates don’t hate me after all.” A sober dragon might be a raging asshole, but perhaps a high one just might help me escape.