If you, like our scribe, live in the US, we hope you had a happy Fourth of July. In celebration of the holiday weekend, we present Dragonish Problems, part 9 without any commentary. I’ll have a lot to say about it next week, but this week, we wanted to give you a story. So here it is. We hope you enjoy it.
–Ran, son of Sarn, forever a thorn in our Newsletter’s Dragon’s side 😉
If you missed a part, there are links below to the earlier parts, or you could wait for the ebook version, which will have more of everything you love. Bye for now.
Dragonish Problems, Part 9
“Changes come in threes,” the metallic angel said as she rose from her crouch. Gears turned slowly in her chest, and her wings glowed a warm orangey-pink. They had little gears in them too, and they made whirring sounds when she moved.
Behind her, everything got really wavy and smeary like the world outside the hole in the wall was melting. It couldn’t really do that, so I didn’t worry overmuch. Besides, if things got too scary here, Papa, Uncle Miren and I could hop back through the handy portal in our Scribe’s apartment, which was just steps away from all the action.
We’d take her too of course. Then she could write our stories on location. How cool would that be? I lost a few moments there imagining how that would play out, and I probably had a silly grin on my face the whole time I was imagining that. I do smile a lot. But thankfully, no one noticed except maybe my uncle since he gave me a pointed look. He’s too observant for his own good. That must be a teenage thing.
Papa’s observant too, but he’s so tall, most of the time he just sees the top of my head unless I happen to look up at him, or we’re sitting down. That’s why he’s always picking me up, and why I always rest my head on his shoulder or bury my face in it. I’m putting my sweet little face out of his line of sight. 🙂
Right now though, I wanted to be in his arms for a whole other reason. A black spot had appeared dead center in that hole in the wall. Well, it wasn’t actually in the middle of that hole. Nor was it filling that hole up as it expanded. It just looked that way because I’m small and looking up at it over a mountain of debris held back by the helpful green-glowing bubble of Papa’s magic, which encased us.
That black circular thing must be floating in whatever was swirling those colors outside our Scribe’s apartment building. I hoped it wasn’t a giant finger. Papa and I had faced many dangers, but I drew the line at giant people. They could eat me and not notice, and that would make Papa sad.
I glanced over my shoulder at the door to the hallway where our Scribe’s apartment was and caught Melinda’s eye. She’d given up on corralling her curious neighbors. Either they didn’t understand the danger they were in, or they did and just didn’t care. Most of them were retirees. A few had led interesting lives with international exploits.
So, if it came to a fight, we might have help facing whatever that metallic angel had summoned. Quite a few of her neighbors had shown up armed with canes and other handy devices they could swing at whatever came through that hole. I really hoped it wasn’t a giant.
“Papa?” I tried again to get through, but when the magic was on him, as it was right now, he tended to lose all track of what was happening around him. But the hand he laid on top of my head made it clear he hadn’t forgotten about me. He just wasn’t hearing me, so I went back to figuring out what was happening since no one else had volunteered for that job.
“They’re not clouds because those rainbow-colored swirls aren’t transparent,” I said to get the conversation rolling. Between Auntie Sovvan, Uncle Miren and our Scribe, we should be able to come with an answer.
“How do you know they’re not clouds?” Auntie Sovvan asked. She was also staring at them. She didn’t have magic per se, but she did have some kind of powers because she could fall many feet while holding me and not get hurt. (That happened in Curse Breaker: Sundered.)
“They aren’t puffy like clouds usually are.”
“They don’t glow either, but something’s lighting them,” Uncle Mired added as he stroked his chin.
“Well, it’s not Papa’s magic because then it would be tinted green, and it’s not.” It had been a few minutes since my last attempt to rouse Papa, so I tugged his pant leg. “Do you know what’s happening?”
When he didn’t immediately answer me, I reached up and patted the hand resting on top of my head. His magic rolled over my hands and stopped me. It didn’t want me to disturb Papa. That wasn’t a good sign. Papa stared into that black hole with a fascinated kind of awe, and he leaned toward it as if he was thinking about running into it.
I put a stop to that real quick by wrapping my arms around his leg. “Papa? You’re scaring me.” I put extra tears into my voice because they never failed to bring him back to me.
“I don’t know what’s happening. Stay close to me,” Papa said in response to one of my earlier questions. It was probably the last thing he’d heard before his magic had dragged his mind off to look at something.
Before I could say anything else, Papa scooped me up, in one smooth move because he’s that big and that strong, and he’d heard my fear. I went happily into his embrace. Whatever that swelling dark spot was, it couldn’t hurt me as long he was right there to shelter and protect me.
“How did you get here?” Melinda asked the metallic angel from behind me. It was one question I should have asked a long time ago, and one we really needed an answer to. It might just help us survive what was to come.
Tune in next week for more. This is Ran, son of Sarn, AND his Scribe, Melinda, wishing you a great week. ❤
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