Princess Ahira (3 page)

             
“Huh?”
I said
. S
uddenly a giant silver claw swiped out at me and I found myself pr
essed against a solid, purple surface. I tipped my head up and saw the
purple dragon looking down at me, his
intelligent eyes watching me.
I tried shifting, but I was utterly trapped by the claw. No matter how I wri
ggled I couldn’t get out of
my captor’s grip
.

Slowly
,
one by one the pr
incesses were chosen by dragons. Predictably,
the
scary princess was chosen last
and her dragon was looking quite reserved as he dragged her out of the cave
—which
quickly emptied after
the ceremony was over
.

The purple dragon abruptly released me.
I stumbled forward and jumped as the dragon lowered his giant head to gaze at me. 

             
“My name is Azm
aveth,” h
e said
. H
is voice was a
smooth and musical sound.
He blinked as I
stared, too afraid to speak. “
You will be spending a bit of time with
me, until I get bored with you
that is,
so
you might as well tell me your name
,” h
e said helpfully.

             
“Ah-ah-
Ahira
,”
I said, barely able to spit out my name.

             
“Lovely name, Ahira,” h
e said it pleasantly as if this
all
was normal.
“Now climb
on my back and we’ll head home,” he instructed.

I didn’t move
.
If
I did my legs would give out in an instant.

Azmaveth the dragon
sighed,
picked me up with his claws
,
and deposited me on a ridge between his neck and his
shoulder blades
. 

             
He
exited
the cave,
unfolded
his wings, and
gracefu
l
l
y
launched us into flight
.
We flew over a huge forest, which
I recalled from the stories of I’ve heard of Tsol as being named the
Endless Forest
—not very original, I know—
for about ten minutes. W
e
suddenly banked and dove, landing in a huge meadow.
I stammered from in my notch and
rolled off, his scales
digging into
my skin.

             
“This is my home,” h
e explained as we stared
at a pair of huge doors that were
ne
stled into the side of a hill.
I couldn’t see the top of the hill in the darkness, nor could I see the ceili
ng when the dragon opened the doors, allowing us to enter his domain.

I heard Azmaveth hiss
,
and suddenly huge torches on t
he cave walls sputtered to life. The floor was made of marble
and the sides of limestone
.
The hallway slowly
sloped
down
into the earth. 

             
We entered the main chamber, which doubled as a sitting
room and a dining room of sorts.
“The
north
tun
nel goes to my room and the treasury.
The south tunnel leads to
the library and dragon washroom. The e
ast tunnel goes to the kitchen, a washroo
m for you, and your bedroom.  T
he w
est tunnel, which we just left, will take you back out of the den.” 

             
“Oh
,”
I carefully said before setting o
ut in the direction of my room.
(I was surprised he intended to house me so civily, but then again I still hadn’t quite gotten over my shock of hearing dragons
talk.
)
I heard him lumber after me as I navigated my way through the tunn
els.  I finally came to my room, which
Azmaveth could only peer into. H
is head was too b
ig to fit through the doorway.
It had a bed, a dresser, a broken mirror, and a dusty, empty bookshelf. 

             
I hopped on the bed and Azmaveth
blew out of his nostrils
.

             
“Night,” h
e
said
, heading back down the hallway.

             
I stared up at the ceiling and considered the irony of my situation. As a child I had always criticized the princesses who were kidnapped by dragons and never attempted an escape. Now that I was in the same mess as those damsels in distress, it occurred to me that zooming outside, head first, into a wild forest in the middle of the night did not sound like a brilliant plan.

             
Even so, I was half tempted to try running away, just to prove to Mother that I wasn’t a traditional princess. But I decided a near death experience wouldn’t be worth an “I told you so!” so I went
to sleep and cut my
losses, resolving to run away if
life with Azmaveth the dragon
really proved to be a terrible
.

Digging in Dishes

I
woke
up
the next mor
ning to a shaft of sunlight
playing on my
blankets
.

             
I stumbled out of bed, my dirt brown hair was swirli
ng around me in a frizzy mass.
I walked into the kitchens
, almost tripping on my torn dress with every step,
wher
e Azmaveth was waiting for me.
He
curiously
cocked his
head and watched
me
with no small amount of
amusement. 

             
I was silent for a minute or two before I realized that the purple dragon was apparently happy just to observe me, so I took the initiative to break the silence.

             
“So…
what happens now
?” I asked
.

             
Azmaveth shrugged. “I was hoping you would know,” he said with a strange dragon smile. It looked almost as
friendly as it did
predatorily
.

             
I
tried to restore order to my hair as I replied,
“Sorry
,
but I’ve never been kidnapped before.” 

             
“My apologies,”
the dragon
gravely said
,
as though it was my loss.
Obviously
my sarcasm was wasted on him.
“I thought
,
perhaps
,
you would
k
now because you’re a princess.
You
are my first princess after all,” h
e worriedly
said
, eyeing me as if I might bite him.

             
Meanwhile I was getting thoroughly
distracted
. There was a distinctly fou
l smell wafting through the kitchen
.
I
wrinkled my face
and covered my nose as an atr
ocious odor invaded my
olfactory
system.

“What is that
smell
?” I coughed as I stumbled across the large kitchen
and climbed
up a dusty ladder that was
p
laced near a huge counter top.
When I reached the top I nearly fell over f
rom the sight that greeted me.
Huge dirty dishes that
were almost as big as me
littered the countertop. 
They were fuzzy with mold.

“
This is
disgusting
! How can you live like this?” I
asked
as I hopped on top.  “
Don’t you have a standard of cleanliness?”
I
said
as I disappeared under a plate that was leaning against a bowl.

             
“What?” he asked, sounding a little sheepish. “It’s not that bad. If you wait long enough the mold dies because there’s nothing left for it to eat.”

             
“
You shouldn’t
even know that!” I said
as I p
opped out from the other side.
“
Well that settles it. Until we figure out what
exactly I’m supposed to do
I’m going to
make myself useful and clean this pigsty
,”
I said look
ing around the
colossal
kitchen.

This was great, if I worked as a maid for Azmaveth I would be violating all of those historical epics and ba
llads about captured princesses. That would afford
me the pleasure of both offending Mother and getting rid of my guilt of doing nothing so I wouldn’t feel compelled to go hurtling into the wild woods. It was the perfect set up!

There was just one problem
with my plan
. “
I have no idea how I’m going to
move all of these giant dishes,”
I muttered.

             
Azmaveth heard me—
apparently d
ragons have excellent hearing.
“What?”
he inquired
.

             
“
The plates, they’re as big as I am. How am I going to store them in their proper place
?”
I asked
while
p
oking around on the counter top, sometimes pausing to
glance at the purple dragon.
“
Um, also I would like to make a request for some more clothes, please. The one I’m wearing now isn’t going to be wearable for much longer
,”
I
abruptly said, changing the subject
.
“And a door,
could I please have a door and a new mirror? T
he one in my room is shot
.”

             
“So these clothes you speak of,” Azmaveth
said
, forgetting my original complaint
. “I assume you mean these?” h
e asked daintily picking me up by the collar of my dress.  “I thought th
ose were odd looking scales!” he exclaimed, looking
proud of himself as he set me back down on the counter. 

             
“
This is cloth, I have skin, not scales
,
”
I educated him
,
swatting his silver claws away.
“
Perhaps a more experienced dragon would be able to help you?”

             
“V
ery well, I shall go obtain these
clothes
,” he declared
as his wings
started to fan out around him.
I absent mindedly nodded as I ripped a string
of lace
off my
ugly
dress and used it to tie my hair back. 

             
“All of that kitchen experience is finally going to pay off! I knew cutting classes was the right choice
,”
I said with no small amount of satisfaction.

In previous years, before my mother learned my hiding patterns to a beat, I would hide in the kitchens, poorly disguised as a servant, and cut classes.
It was always easier to get to the kitchens to the stables, and the cooks and maids
would never
turn away help. As
I was one of many princess
es
the head cook
let me stay there without telling my mother
as long
as I was willing to assist her
.

             
I summoned up all my strength before poking around for soap.
And
hot water.
And
something to scrape off the mold
.