Little Dragon, page 1
LITTLE DRAGON
DRAGONS IN THE DARK
BOOK TWO
JADA FISHER
Copyright © 2024 Jada Fisher
All Rights Reserved
Except for review quotes, this book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the written consent of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. All people, places, names, and events are products of the author’s imagination and / or used fictitiously. Any similarities to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design by J Caleb Design
CONTENTS
Prelude
1. It Beckons, It Calls. A Siren’s Song
2. The Cover-up
3. Technicolor Dreams Make for Scaled Nightmares
4. Friends in High Places
5. No Time Like the Present
6. Rainy Day Preparations Means Cave Precipitation
7. Lessons Learned, Lessons Imparted
8. All In the Family
9. Look Who’s Coming to Dinner
10. Trip at the Finish Line
11. Falling Further
12. The Depths
13. What’s in a Name?
Thank You
PRELUDE
Open it.
Open it.
Her fingers went to the clasp. It was warm to the touch. Like it was actually her body. How could she resist such a thing?
Well, she couldn’t.
Giving way to the temptation, Lisbeth flicked open the clasp and pulled up the lid. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but it certainly wasn’t…
An egg!?
It wasn’t a chicken egg, or any other type of animal egg that Lisbeth recognized. It was far bigger, filling up the entirety of the small chest. There were strange ridges in the shell, and it was an iridescent design that reminded her of a tar-juice spill when light reflected off it.
She knew she should leave it alone. It wasn’t hers. She should just close the box and go back to her room. But she couldn’t. She had to touch it.
Using both hands, she gripped the egg and pulled it out of the box, studying it intently. It was like finding another part of herself that she never knew she had been missing, a part of her soul that had somehow gotten separated and sent somewhere else.
What did she do? Just take it to her room? No matter how she felt, the egg wasn’t hers. She didn’t even know what it was! What if it was something dangerous? Like an awful creature from the Void?
She needed to set it back, but she couldn’t. So, she just stared at it, the world shrinking down further and further until there was nothing but her and the egg.
And then it cracked.
1
IT BECKONS, IT CALLS. A SIREN’S SONG
It felt like Lisbeth’s soul jolted right out of her body. For a moment, time didn’t just slow around her but stopped completely, like it had been locked the moment the egg first cracked.
Some part of her mind, a very quiet and far away part, screamed that she needed to put the egg down and run away. To flee from sight and pretend she’d never been there. However, she knew she could no more do that than she could permanently stop breathing. Every fiber of Lisbeth’s being was locked into the egg within her hands.
It was insane, but she felt as if she was holding her own heart in her hands. Warm and beating between her fingers. Something so precious, so monumental.
It cracked again. Then again. Little lightning-like things that spread and spread, until a warm, sticky liquid oozed down between Lisbeth’s fingers. It was gross, if she was being quite honest, but it hardly registered over the rushing in her own ears. All of her mind and body was focused on the chunk that was moving off the top of the shattering egg, as if it was her entire future about to emerge.
All the caves, the entire dome, perhaps even the entire Void narrowed down to just a couple of scant inches, drawing Lisbeth into an inescapable hold. But she didn’t want to escape. No, she didn’t know the last time she’d experienced such excitement. Such anticipation. Her heart was thundering in her chest, her blood was rushing in her veins, and she was pretty sure that her palms were sweating underneath the eggy goop that was pouring between her fingers.
Then, when it seemed like it was working itself up into a frenzied crescendo, the entire thing fell apart, and there was something sitting in Lisbeth’s hands. Something living.
“Hey there,” Lisbeth whispered, voice barely audible. She hadn’t expected her words to be so tremulous, but some part of her soul was insisting that something completely life-altering was right there in front of her, wrapping everything around the little thing. “Who are you?”
The tiny critter shook its head, and Lisbeth’s already shallow breath froze right in her chest. She had expected some sort of strange creature from the Void, or perhaps an ancient animal from the before-times that had been somehow resurrected after thousands of years, but it wasn’t either of those things.
No, what was resting in her sticky palm was none other than a dragon.
…or, at least, Lisbeth was pretty sure it was a dragon. The great beasts that the barbarians had used to destroy old Kyer. Unstoppable, violent forces of nature that had broken through walls and defenses that even the grand creatures of the Void couldn’t defeat after generations.
And she was holding one!
“Are you real!?”
Although she was full of wonder, Lisbeth was doing her best to keep her voice low. She didn’t want to wake the stranger that was healing up. Although she didn’t know the woman, she got a pretty strong impression that the foreigner wouldn’t be too keen on her precious egg being in someone else’s hands.
“This can’t be real…” Lisbeth continued, leaning in to look more closely at the tiny critter. It was still very sticky and covered in yellowish-white and red goop, but there was a shimmer to the scales lining its sides that sometimes looked blue, purple, or green depending on how the light hit it. There were also little nubs all along its back that Lisbeth assumed would one day be spines, but they too shifted between red, pink, orange, and yellow, making a sort of kaleidoscope of color that reminded Lisbeth of the stained glass used in the buildings of the particularly wealthy or the grand palace in the very depths of Kyerchov.
The little reptile turned its head to the side and one of its brilliant, blazing green eyes met Lisbeth’s gaze. Instantly, a connection blazed within her chest. Foreign. Unlike anything she’d felt before. It was like someone had wrapped a rope around her and attached it straight to the strange little creature. Was that part of the magic of dragons? Was that why the barbarians were able to forge such intense bonds with them? And if that was the case, Lisbeth couldn’t help but wonder if that was happening to her as well. If she was experiencing the same phenomenon that had been locked away from her people.
Then, the little thing shrieked.
“Gavi no!” Lisbeth yelped, a phrase that Katyana would most certainly not approve of. Lisbeth tried not to use such language in front of the little ones, but there weren’t any little ones around to worry about. She tried to gently wrap her fingers around the tiny dragon, like gripping an unruly puppy, but it was so wet from the contents of its egg that it shot right out from between her fingers and crashed into one of the few shelves on the wall. A couple of old tomes and knick-knacks clattered to the floor.
Uh-oh.
Naturally, it caused a great racket. Lisbeth tried to lunge for the creature before it could make any more noise. At any moment, the stranger could wake up. Lisbeth would possibly be in more trouble than she’d ever faced before, and she’d certainly gotten into some snafus in her time.
“Come here!” she hissed, grabbing at it. The slippery little thing jumped on top of her hand and ran up her arm, launching off her shoulders onto the curtains. “No! Not those! They’re heirlooms!”
The creature didn’t care about that, however, because it started climbing higher along the fabric, leaving little pinprick tears that weren’t immediately evident but could always get worse.
“Come on, get down! Get down!”
Suddenly, Lisbeth found herself trying to jump after a creature that very much did not want to be caught while she was also trying to be stealthy. It wasn’t exactly the quietest affair, and by not quiet, Lisbeth was shocked that the entire house hadn’t come running in concern. There were crashes, and the little thing was shrieking its head off and hissing like the angriest cat. All the wonderful feelings that had been surging through her were gone, replaced by a blind panic.
“Why are you so slippery!?”
Jumping, diving, and even climbing on what little furniture was in the room didn’t help. Every time Lisbeth managed to get a hand on the multicolored thing, it would wiggle right out.
And it bit too. And scratched. And otherwise made the most accursed sounds Lisbeth had ever heard. Thankfully, whatever was in the medicine Mad Magdelyn had given the stranger was most definitely powerful, since she was still fast asleep.
Finally, Lisbeth grabbed for the sewing basket in the corner of the room, dumping its contents onto the ground. In a feat of athleticism she didn’t know she had in her, the young girl finally managed to corner the little beastie and dive forward once more.
Against all odds, Lisbeth managed to get the basket over it and flip it, slamming the cover shut before it could get out. She didn’t recall any legends about dragons being slipperier than a cave rat covered in butter, or being so incredibly tiny. If she could actually get a hand on the thing, it could fit comfortably in her pal
What to do… What to do!?
Lisbeth looked around at the wrecked room, knowing she absolutely had to fix it before the matriarch of the boardinghouse returned, but she was also completely out of her depth. It was quite possible she was holding an actual, completely real dragon in a sewing basket.
And even if it wasn’t a dragon, it was still something that Lisbeth absolutely shouldn’t have any sort of interaction with. It wasn’t hers, and it clearly wasn’t native to the caves.
At the same time, the egg had called to her. It had hatched for her. That had to mean something, right?
Right?
Lisbeth didn’t know. She didn’t think she was a very rash person, but she was suddenly very much feeling that way. It was like the entire world had cracked open, and Lisbeth was faced with a whole host of variables that had never existed before.
Panic bubbling over, Lisbeth hurried to her room and put the basket on her bed while her heart thundered impressively hard in her chest. Setting it on her bed, she threw all of her blankets over it before rushing back to Katyana’s room, trying to fix everything that was out of place as quickly as she could.
The entire time she was rushing around, she was sure that someone would come in and bust the entire situation wide open. What would Lisbeth even do if that happened? Say a stray wind had somehow burst through the window and managed to knock nearly everything off the shelf, the walls, and make all the other mess?
Thankfully, Lisbeth’s luck worked out, for once, and no one dropped in. The closest thing she had to a scare was when the unconscious woman’s breath hitched slightly, but it just ended up being a half-hearted snore. Hopefully, that was a sign that she was continuing to heal, as the woman had been largely soundless at first. It had been hard to tell if she was a corpse or only corpse-like.
With the room more or less back in order, minus the tiny scratches in the curtain, Lisbeth hurried out. Her mind was spinning so fast that it felt like it was zooming in a circle around her body in a frenzy.
She was possibly dealing with a tiny dragon. Despite all the larger ramifications, what was she supposed to do?
Well, it had just been born, right? It was probably hungry. Hungry babies should be fed, even if it had led her on a wild chase throughout Katyana’s room that left her sweaty and breathless.
Okay, she could do that. She could feed the baby mystery creature that was possibly, and quite probably, an ancient dragon of yore that just so happened to be exceptionally small.
…what did dragons eat?
Besides innocent civilians running for their lives from barbarian attack. Lisbeth didn’t know if human flesh was a requirement of their diet, but she was certainly eager to avoid that.
Heading to the small kitchen, she looked to see if any food was left out. She was surprised to see that there was some stew left over from Solomiya’s earlier cooking sitting over the wood stove. Picking out some of the rooted vegetables, Lisbeth lifted the trapdoor that led down into the larder. She grabbed a couple eggs, some fruit, and one of the cave eels that Artem had likely caught a day or so before. They were meant to be cured, but with everything going on, it was clear that no one had had the time.
Also… Lisbeth wasn’t even certain they had enough salt. They had enough gold now, but things had been awfully tight after Lisbeth had been robbed.
It was strange to think that if that hadn’t happened, however, she never would have gone out when she did, never would have been able to save the strange woman, and ergo never would have somehow hatched a dragon.
Well, a probable dragon. Lisbeth wasn’t exactly an expert on enemy monsters. Even if it wasn’t a dragon, though, it was certainly something a bit…freaky, for lack of a better word. Not for the first time, Lisbeth wished that she had access to a library like Villy. If she did, maybe she’d have a better expanse of words and sound just as smart as all the nobles did.
But she didn’t have that. What she had was a creature who was about the size of a particularly starved lapdog that only the nobles of Kyerchov had, with the attitude of a child who was resisting being put down for a nap at all costs, and who had the acrobatic abilities of a hyperactive cat. She also didn’t know exactly what that meant for her, but she had all the food she could spare in her arms and was going to go see if that would help.
Hurrying back to her room, surprised that she’d somehow continued to be uninterrupted, Lisbeth closed her door firmly behind her and put her small stool in front of it. It wouldn’t block anyone from coming in, but hopefully, it would at least slow them down.
With that, she approached the thin pile of blankets on her bed, not missing how it shifted ever-so-slightly. She hoped the little thing hadn’t chewed out of its containment, because Lisbeth had no idea what she would do if it took a flying leap at her face. She’d already felt firsthand how sharp its claws were, and she wasn’t really looking for a repeat experience on her cheek. Or around her mouth. And certainly not her eye. She had enough problems without having to worry about possible blinding.
“Hey there, little friend. Are you gonna take it easy? I’d really like it if you did…”
The tiny reptile didn’t answer, and it was a bit unnerving that it had been so loud and shrieky before but now was completely silent. Not even any whines or sounds of sniffing. She… She hadn’t killed it, had she?
Lisbeth quickly set the food down and sat next to the basket, placing it between her crossed legs. Choosing a small shred of meat, perhaps chicken or cave rat, she cracked the lid just enough to slide it in.
Once again, the world went quiet as a narrow sliver of brilliant green eyes peeked out through the crack, meeting Lisbeth’s gaze. Its pupils were slits, like a cat’s, but they’d expanded so wide that they almost looked like full circles. Was it because the basket was dark? Was it because the thing was scared? Happy? Excited to see Lisbeth?
Its nostrils wiggled and then its jaws snapped forward almost too quickly to see, grabbing the piece of meat and pulling it into the basket.
Lisbeth knew that her first instinct should have been to slam the lid shut, but she was far too fascinated. Pushing it all the way off, she leaned over and looked in.
The creature ate like something between a reptile and the fancy birds she’d occasionally spotted in the nobles’ districts. Though Lisbeth couldn’t spot any teeth, the little critter managed to eat just fine, chomping and mashing the food against the edges of its mouth before tilting its entire head back and swallowing with several dramatic jerks.
“You liked that?” Lisbeth asked, feeling strangely fond. It wasn’t like she’d never seen cute things before. She’d interacted with kittens, puppies, baby livestock animals, even some of the bats that lived at the higher levels had an adorableness to them. But there was something different about the multicolored creature in her lap. Something…special.
Considerably calmer, the little thing stood on its hind legs, its head peeking out of the basket. Unlike how brightly colored the rest of it was, its tongue was pitch black as it came out to lick at where its lips would have been if it wasn’t a reptile, and then it licked one of its eyes.
Creepy.
“Here, why don’t you try this?”
Picking up a piece of tuber from the stew, Lisbeth offered that. She was fully braced for the thing to chomp her fingers along with the piece of food, but it was much gentler this time, slowly stretching its long, narrow neck forward and carefully extricating the scrap.
“There you go. How’s that?”
The moment the piece of food was clear of her fingers, however, the creature did snap its head back and proceeded to gobble it down just as voraciously as the meat.
It was messy too, little crumbs raining down into the basket. If things were going to continue, Lisbeth was going to need to teach it some table manners. Or something along those lines.
“Okay, let’s try the next one, shall we?”
One by one, Lisbeth fed the creature pieces of food. It certainly liked the meat and fruit more than the vegetables, but it seemed willing to swallow down any of them. Lisbeth hoped that she wasn’t feeding the little beastie anything that would make it sick, but she was doing her best.
