Hydra (26 page)

Where’s Zilpha? What’s the rest of my family up to? I’m pondering these things as I creep, ever-so-silently, slowly, cautiously toward the yellow dragon eating the elk.

Before we learned about the dragon, we were visiting Siberia in an attempt to rid the world of water-dwelling dragon hunters, which live in a lake near this cave. The rest of my family is around here
somewhere
, trying to find the source of the creatures (which we’ve dubbed water yagi, after the yagi—dragon hunters—that live on land, which were created by our enemy Eudora for the express purpose of hunting down and killing dragons(another long, long story)).

My brother Ram is somewhere in the vicinity. He might well have seen the dragon as it flew overhead.

I’m drawing slowly closer to the dragon. It’s nearly finished off the elk now, and I’m close enough I could be heard if I tried to talk.

Should I say something? I’ve been trying to think what to say this whole time, but it’s difficult to know whether I should attempt to flirt when I’m not sure who I’m dealing with. Maybe I should change into a dragon? No, turning into a dragon might make the creature feel threatened. Wouldn’t it? And since it’s working for Eudora, it might attack…

Before I make up my mind, as I take another step, a twig snaps under my foot.

I freeze.

The dragon freezes, too, even though it was in the middle of ripping meat and chewing its meal, so I it might not have heard me, except that dragons tend to have excellent hearing, on top of keen eyesight.

The dragon stops suddenly and its eyes widen. It starts to turn its head.

Should I dive out of sight? Is that even possible?

It doesn’t matter. The dragon’s nostrils flare as it sniffs the air and peers into the darkened woods.

Like a rabbit, I stand completely still. If I don’t move, it won’t be able to see me, will it?

Suddenly, the creature’s eyes seem to lock on mine. Like all the other dragons I know, this dragon’s eyes are essentially the same color as its scales—in this case, a fiery gold.

Glorious.

And terrified.

The creature stretches out its wings and lifts up into the air, flying swiftly away into the vast Siberian night sky.

I kick off my shoes, shuck my pants, change into dragon form and fly after the flame-yellow dragon. Most of my attention is focused on keeping the dragon in sight, but in the back of my mind, something’s nagging me. This creature I’m chasing is a dragon—bigger than a truck—as big as a small house, even. It’s got armored scales and claws and horns, and can almost certainly breathe fire.

But instead of blowing a blast of fire my way or even taking a swipe at me with its claws, it fled.

Why?

A dragon shouldn’t be afraid of an unarmed human.

The dragon jets across the sky, but it’s either tired or having second thoughts about fleeing, because it slows and glances back, nearly somersaulting through the open air when it sees me flying after it.

The somersaulting clearly wasn’t intentional—probably a result of shock. The dragon recovers and glides another mile or so. It sheds speed until it comes to a stop and sets down in a rugged valley with its back to jagged cliffs that shoot up in rocky spurs—offering plenty of places to hide, should the dragon feel the need.

Since it’s still in dragon form, and glowing, it’s not hiding anywhere, in spite of the darkness. I land about forty yards away—close enough the dragon can see me clearly (since I, too, am roughly the size of a house and glowing scarlet-red), but not so close as to make it feel threatened. And then, just to prove to this creature that I’m not a threat, I switch back into human form.

The dragon trains its golden eyes on me and advances slowly, warily.

I stand my ground. This is somewhat uncomfortable because now that I’m in human form, I’m completely vulnerable. I don’t even have any of my usual swords or daggers with me. I’m unarmed and mostly naked, save for a pair of bright, scarlet-red boxer shorts, which match my scarlet-red scales when I’m a dragon, and which, thanks to their elastic waist, are the only clothing that survives my massive expansion into dragon form, leaving me something short of naked when I switch back to being human.

The dragon’s eyes are riveted on mine as it advances cautiously toward me.

Once it’s close enough to hear me clearly, I announce, “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a friend.”

The dragon narrows its eyes at the word
friend.
Okay, technically,
friend
implies that we know each other, which we don’t. Beyond the fact that I’m a dragon and this creature is a dragon, we have absolutely no baseline of familiarity. But given how few dragons there are on earth, I think our common dragon-ness should be enough to justify the word.

But the dragon’s response tells me something else: in spite of the fact that we’re deep in Siberian Russia, this creature seems to understand English.

Where did it come from? Where is its home—and are there more dragons there?

It’s drawing closer now, maybe fifteen yards away. Close enough it could blast me with fiery flames from its mouth, or even pounce in one leap and shred me with its talons. I’m more aware of this possibility than I’d like to be. I’ve never been afraid of a dragon before, not really. I mean, my parents raised us to be aware that Ion and Eudora weren’t to be trusted, but they were always distant threats. Not like this dragon—so close I can see danger in its eyes.

I can also see something else, something I missed in those short minutes as the dragon ate the elk in the woods. The dragon is wearing clothes. Like my boxer shorts, dyed scarlet red to match my scales, this dragon’s short skirt, stretched tight over its dragon hips, matches it’s fiery yellow scales.

While the skirt alone neither proves nor disproves that the dragon in question is female (after all, Wren’s water-dragon boyfriend wears a kilt) the garment between its shoulders is a bit more telling. Twin swaths of flame-yellow fabric cross-cross the dragon’s chest. Granted, it might be some type of baldric, like those we wear to keep our swords handy at our backs, but I don’t see any swords. And the drape of the cloth looks more like an improvised, adjustable bra top more than anything.

Which makes me think this is probably a girl dragon.

I can’t hide my smile.

The dragon pauses, immediately on its guard.

Chastened, I stop smiling, even though I still feel encouraged by the indications of the dragon’s clothes. I have to put this dragon at ease. Woo her!

But I can’t risk spooking her, or provoking her to attack. I’m far too vulnerable, standing here barefoot in my boxer shorts, close enough the dragon could grill me like a steak.

I don’t know what culture this dragon hails from, what gestures might have positive meanings, or what might send the wrong message.

Again, I summon the courage to speak. “I mean you no harm. I want—I want to be your friend.” Why are words so difficult? I know what I want to say—hey, we’re both dragons! And dragons are few in this world! We should hang out together and maybe make babies, if possible.

But I that feels too forward, and this dragon looks ever so wary.

The dragon dips its head toward me and takes another tentative step in my direction, before looking suddenly up at the sky with a startled expression.

I look, too.

Crap, crap, crap. No!

An indigo-blue dragon cuts through the sky, headed toward us. It’s Ram. My brother. He’s come after us—he wants to meet this dragon and woo her away from me, but little does he know he’s actually scaring the creature.

“It’s okay,” I rush to reassure her. “It’s okay! That’s my brother. He’s a friend, too. He won’t hurt you.”

To my surprise, the dragon bounds closer to me, and actually shuffles around behind me, as though my relatively small human body could somehow hide its glowing dragon body.

It’s the glowing yellow scales, I’m sure, that attract my brother’s attention from the sky. If the dragon behind me would change into human form, Ram wouldn’t be able to find us in the dark. He must have seen us fly past earlier, but in the time it took him to come after us, we’d already landed. But since the yellow dragon is glowing like a flaming beacon, we’re not so hard to find. He’s close enough now he can’t miss us.

Ram sets down in front of me, in about the same spot where the dragon first landed.

“Careful, Ram,” I call out. “You don’t want to scare…it.” I swallow the last word. I don’t want to offend the dragon, but neither do I want to guess and be wrong.

Ram takes a step closer to us and I can feel the dragon tensing behind me. This is not cool. I’m in human form, and both of these two are dragons. If the dragon behind me startles and blasts fire, Ram will be fine and I’ll be toast.

“Take your time, Ram,” I caution my brother, my voice deliberately soothing, like I’m trying to calm a frightened horse. While I could suggest to my brother that he might be less intimidating if he changes into human form, I’m also fully aware that my brother is insanely impressive in human form. I don’t know if it’s because he’s three years older than I am, or if he just won the genetic lottery, but while I’m fairly tall and strong, Ram is like some kind of bodybuilder—but not the veiny, gross kind of body builder. The kind of bodybuilder that girls notice. That girls
always
notice, even if moments before they’d noticed me.

Whenever Ram walks into a room, it’s like I’ve disappeared.

So I’m in no hurry for him to switch into his impressive human form and make me effectively invisible, especially since I haven’t had any opportunity to get a jump on wooing the dragon behind me and I don’t want to completely squander the advantage I bought with my long stakeout.

Ram advances slowly. He’s made eye contact with the yellow dragon, I’m pretty sure. But since that dragon is behind me, I can’t really see, so I sidestep and try to turn my head to get a better look, but the dragon shuffles along behind me, keeping me between it and Ram. While this is frustrating, since I can’t see the dragon’s face, it’s also slightly flattering.

The dragon feels safe with me.

Just as I’m starting to think maybe I’m off to a good start, that maybe I’ve got some advantage over my brother, however small, Ram changes from a dragon into a human.

I can’t be sure, but I think he’s purposely showing off.

The dragon behind me has definitely noticed. The yellow head dips low, extending in my brother’s direction.

Ram takes a few steps closer. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

That was my line. He stole my line.

And as if to validate his personal charisma, the dragon steps closer to Ram. Now she’s beside me, almost in front of me.

Then she changes, too.

She is certainly a
she
, but I make that realization along with several other observations. She is tall, well-curved, her face delicate but strong, her posture impeccable, her skin dark as the night. Her dragon horns became twin braids as she changed, and the thick plaits now drape back over her shoulders, which are toned, statuesque, even regal. Like all dragons, she doesn’t look any older than twenty. She is the loveliest female I have ever seen, dragon or otherwise.

And she’s looking at Ram.

Okay, granted, Ram just got here, whereas I’ve been here for a few minutes, so maybe it makes sense she’d study the newcomer. But it’s the
way
she’s looking at him that spreads dread like goose bumps across my skin. The tension and fear that held her posture upright moments ago has now given way to a definite inclination in Ram’s direction. She has a half-smile on her lips, which are open ever-so-slightly, and her pupils have gone overly large in the midst of her flame-yellow irises. Perhaps that’s due to the dark night, but it gives me the distinct impression that she is attracted to Ram.

This is not getting off to a good start.

I was here first. I’ve just got to up my game. I turn to the female with what I hope is a winning smile. “Lovely Lady, may I introduce myself? My name is Felix.”

The dragon woman turns to me with a slightly startled look, as though she’d forgotten I was there.

So quickly.

But she smiles a polite smile, showing off her perfectly-matched white teeth, which brighten her face and make her look, if possible, even more enchanting. “My name is Nia.” She speaks loudly enough for my brother to hear, and turns her head in his direction.

“Nia.” Ram hurries toward her, grasps her hand, and
bows
. I’m not kidding. He bows and looks up at her with this imploring expression that makes me wish I’d slugged him more often when we were young. “What a pleasure to meet you. My name is Ram.”

“Ram,” she repeats, trying out the name, smiling at the sound of it on her lips.

She did not try out my name.

So, now what? Ultimately, I want to propose to the girl, but it seems soon for that, especially since we don’t know why she was working for Eudora, or if she’s only talking to us because she plans to turn us over to our old arch-enemy or possibly murder us on the spot and cart off our carcasses like a prize.

While I’m puzzling over what to say next, the woman speaks. “You are dragons—are there more like you?”

“We have three sisters,” my brother informs her.

“And parents. And a grandfather,” I add, though Nia is still looking at Ram, and not at me.

An expression like hope fills her face. “Are you from China?”

“No, Azerbaijan,” Ram answers, while I’m wondering what could have possibly caused her to think we’re Chinese. We’re clearly Azeri. We look Persian, Turkic, whatever you want to call it. Other than the Scottish blood we inherited from my grandmother, which makes my hair a deep auburn color and splashed a riot of freckles across my tanned nose, we’re all classically dark-haired and olive-skinned. I don’t think even the dark of the night could make us look Chinese.

I grasp at the only reason for her question that I can think of. “Do you know of dragons in China?”

Nia turns my way and gives a hesitant half nod. “I’ve heard…there may be.”

“I’ve heard the same.” Ram confirms.

He’s actually gone to China in search of more dragons, long journeys that occupied most of the last two summers. That vast, populous land is full of legends, and the people revere, even worship dragons, so it would make sense that, of all the places in the world where dragons might remain, China would be a top contender. But Ram never found any dragons there.

Nia’s smile grows. “I’ve been searching for dragons for many long years. I’d almost given up hope of finding any.”

“Are there more in your family?” I ask when she pauses. There’s every possibility she has a sister, after all.

But Nia shakes her head. “I have always been alone.”

The sadness in her voice quiets any further questions I might be tempted to ask.

“Would you like to meet our family?” Ram asks.

I feel a twinge of jealousy that he thought to make the offer before I could, but instead of looking excited by the prospect, Nia looks…afraid. Maybe even horrified, though I can’t imagine why.

She glances over her shoulders into the darkness. The rocks jut upward at harsh angles, deeply shadowed by the meager light of the moon and stars, an unnatural landscape that might well hide equally unnatural enemies. “I don’t want to endanger you.”