Wings of Renewal: A Solarpunk Dragon Anthology (47 page)

“Don't worry about it. I do the same to my pencils.” Ivy laughed, with just an edge of hysteria. Win's hands were rough but gentle as she smoothed the bandage around Ivy's arm. She swallowed. “So … these are your dragons?”

“Either that or really messed up cats.”
 

Ivy nodded, not registering the joke. “Is this a dream?” Win pulled the wand from her rifle and stuck Ivy with the tip. “Ow, hey! I'm injured!”

One corner of Win's lips twitched upwards. “Doesn't look like a dream to me.”

“You could've just said that,” Ivy groused, making a show of rubbing her bandaged arm.
 

Win raised an eyebrow. “And when have you ever actually listened to a word I said?”

“I—when …” Ivy opened her mouth and closed it, settling for crossing her arms and sticking out her chin indignantly.
 

“Oh right, I forgot about that time,” Win teased, but there was no edge to it.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, until Win cleared her throat and looked away. Ivy was about to take the hint and excuse herself when Win cut in.
 

“Since you're here, you might as well make yourself useful.” She moved to a cupboard, grabbing two pairs of gloves and walking towards the back door. “How are you with a table saw?”

“I …” Ivy blinked, then rushed to follow her. “I'm great with all standard power tools. I actually led a remedial carpentry workshop for seniors last year. We built birdhouses.”

Win snorted. “Grab a hammer before I change my mind.”

* * *

Over the next two weeks, Ivy and Win cut shelves for the broom shed, scraped the moss and algae from the greenhouse's glass panels, repainted the house (the same color, despite Ivy's many suggestions), and re-attached the warped roof. One afternoon, after a crash course in whittling ritual spoons, Ivy was spread out on a blanket on the grassy bluff behind the house. Two chipped mugs of cold tea sat beside her, and a half dozen dragons milled around, climbing over her legs and snapping at each other in between brief naps sprawled across her lap. “You're nothing like I thought,” Ivy whispered as she stroked down a knobby, ruby-ridged back. The dragon's forked tongue hung out of her mouth, vibrating with gentle snores.
 

Behind her, footsteps swished through the grass until something soft hit the back of her head.
 

“Here, you're getting your fancy clothes dirty.”

“Hey!” Ivy squawked, pulling the worn plaid work shirt off her shoulder. Win plucked two dragons from the blanket and sat down beside her, setting them back on her lap. They snuffled and yawned, but didn't bother waking up. “Thanks, but it's just an old t-shirt from the Center. I don't mind.”

Win looked down and read the print.
“Fourth Annual Gluten-Free Bake-Off for Fae Food Addiction Awareness
.”
 

“One of my first events,” Ivy grinned. “Still, not fancy.”

 
Looking over, Ivy watched as Win flicked a finger over her tea, tendrils of steam rising instantly.

“Whoa.” Ivy's eyes widened, shoving her mug into Win's space. “Can you do mine too?”

Win rolled her eyes good-naturedly, nodding to the spare shirt. “Put it on anyway so I can forget the only reason you're here is to brainwash me into your creepy togetherness cult. You're actually good at home repair. I'd rather not use a banishing spell on you just yet.”

Fighting back a smile, Ivy narrowed her eyes. “You know, most people would agree I have more reason to worry here, sitting with a witch, buried in dragons, out where no one can hear my screams.”

“Hmm, that gives me an idea …” Win tapped her chin thoughtfully. Ivy whacked her on the arm. “Hey, I was out here minding my own business until you showed up. And kept showing up. Again, and again, and
again
.”

“All right, I get it,” Ivy huffed. “But you can't blame all of Sunnydale for that.”

“No, but I
can
blame them for thinking their pumpkins' honor is worth assault charges.”

Ivy's shoulders slumped. “I should've never told you about
Squash the Competition
.”

“It's not like I was surprised. Disturbed, yes. Reaffirmed in my hermitude, absolutely. But not surprised.”
 

“What about all the good they do for each other though?” Ivy pressed. “Crop sharing so everyone gets balanced meals even if some of their plants didn't make it. Family dinners the whole town is invited to. That's what I love about Sunnydale and what we do at the Center. Nobody's left out, because everyone has something to offer. A person's … uniqueness just means there's more we can learn from them. Don't you think?”

Beside her, Win stared at the dozing dragon in her lap and tucked it closer to her body. “I don't think everyone sees it that way.”

“Maybe they don't ramble on as much as I do, but—”

“No, Ivy,” Win cut in. “There are still weeds, still
pests
. Doesn't matter how long they've been there. If they're not what people want, they're intruders.”

Ivy blinked, remembering the stories of the vicious beasts of Bann Hill warding off visitors. She shook her head. “People just don't know you. It's not like they think you're evil or anything. They just think you're a lot more intimidating than you are.” Win's head shot up. “Not that you're not very scary when you want to be,” Ivy amended.
 

Smiling weakly, Win let her gaze fall back to her lap. “Yeah, well, that's the price of these guys.”

“What do you mean?”

Win shifted and squirmed until a sleeping dragon's disapproving chirp stilled her. Sighing, she leaned back in defeat. “I grew up in this tiny village over the next hill,” she said. “There were other witches besides me. A few actually, and they had a big influence in town. But they were all water witches, whereas I”—she gestured toward their still-steaming mugs—“am more inclined to fire.”

“That's why you get along so well with the dragons,” Ivy finished, eyes wide in wonder. “It's almost like you're one of them.”

On cue, the dragon in Ivy's lap hiccupped, spitting a tiny fireball into a lock of her hair. Win sighed and dunked it into Ivy's mug until it fizzled out, a fresh plume of steam rising.
 

“Couldn't you have done that with magic?”

“Probably,” Win conceded. “Anyway, people in my old village had this idea that dragons were really destructive and menacing.” She waved her hand like she was batting a fly. “They were hicks. They loved all those stupid stories where the dragons trapped princesses and hoarded gold, you know? Never mind they were hunted almost to extinction and those 'brave knights' bought their scales for armor.” She blew out a breath. “When they found out I had a 'connection' with them, as they called it, things got weird. Not that they would confront me, of course. Couldn't shatter the illusion of their perfect, harmonious community.” Win barked a hollow laugh. “Except that kid who found me out here after I moved and shattered my window. He must've missed that meeting.”

Ivy's eyes bugged. She whipped around to look at the house as if the vandal would still be there. “
That's
why your window's broken?”

Win nodded.
 

Anger swirling in her stomach, Ivy sputtered. “What was his name? Where does he live?”

“Ivy …”

“I will hunt him down, Win.” She leaned in close, pointing a finger at Win's nose. “I will hunt him down, and I will make him pay. I'm licensed to drive a backhoe and I know where to get a lot of goat manure.”

“Really? I would've guessed you'd go after their zoning permits.”

“I can do that too. Hit 'em from all angles.”

The corner of Win's mouth twitched. “Well that's … nice, but it was years ago.”

“Then why don't you get it fixed?”

Win shrugged. “Whenever I start thinking going into Sunnydale might be a good idea, it reminds me. I'll do whatever I need to protect these dragons.”

Ivy leaned back as it dawned on her. “You let the rumors fly on purpose,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief.
 

“Hey, it keeps people out.” Glancing sideways at Ivy, she smirked. “Well, people with any sense, at least.”

Bypassing that comment, Ivy picked the dragon off her lap, ignoring its sleepy protests to face Win. “Listen, you have nothing to worry about. I know the people of Sunnydale can seem a bit eccentric, but they're reasonable when they need to be. They're not hateful, and they certainly wouldn't hurt your dragons.”
 

Win looked up. “No?”

“Of course not.” Ivy laughed. “The only reason people were freaked out was because they thought there was some kind of giant monster dragon up here.”

 
Like a light had switched off, Win's eyes flickered down and out of focus. Ivy ducked, trying to meet her gaze, but Win turned and stared out towards the valley. Frowning, Ivy looked down to the dragon in Win's lap. Its wings were stretched wide as if to catch the sun, and Ivy watched in awe as light swirled lazily beneath the leathery skin. When Win spoke, Ivy startled as if caught seeing something she shouldn't.
 

“I just don't think it's in the cards for me right now.”

She wanted to ask. She wanted to ask a lot of things, but caught the words on her lips before she could undo any more of their progress. Instead, she settled for a nod, shifting back to sit side-by-side. “You're wrong about one thing, though.”

Win still didn't meet her eyes. “Oh yeah? What?”

“I'm not here just to brainwash you into a cult.” Win raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I'm not here to do that at all, obviously. But, even if it weren't for the Center—”

“You're saying you'd be bugging me no matter what?”

“'fraid so.”

Win sighed, sipping her cold-again tea. “We all have our burdens to bear.”

* * *

Win sat on her back stoop, savagely chewing the end of a yew wand, forehead creased in thought. On the horizon, dirty gray clouds crept across the skyline. Another day, Win might've scowled and chased them away, taking out her itchy-hot frustrations on the water droplets until they dissipated into the air. She probably should, but today they seemed too fitting for Win to remove them. Nearby, the
clack-clack
of tiny claws against the floor made her jump. She grabbed for the whittling knife and block of misshapen wood she'd abandoned, letting the wand disappear into the grass.
Just as well,
she thought.
It'd probably liquefy the bones in my arm if I tried using it now.

“What's up, Jules?” she asked the sapphire-blue dragon who stood at her knee, flicking his tongue curiously. “Enjoying the peace and quiet?”

She dragged the dull knife against the wood.

“Yeah, it feels like forever since we've had a day where that girl's not banging our door down, huh?”

The dragon blinked and tilted his head.

“I know,” she continued. “Finally, I can hear myself think without the incessant blabbering about … waffles made of kale, and everyone loving each other or whatever.”

Striking the block hard, she wedged the knife into the wood. She yanked at it to wriggle it loose.

“Bit out of practice, aren't I? That's okay. Perfect way to enjoy our peace and quiet.”

“
Ee ah eye-et
,” the dragon parroted, swishing his tail.

Win glared.

* * *

 
“The thing is, at this point it's just rude.”

Win paced back and forth from the kitchen to the living room, heavy boots clomping
against the floor.

“I was counting on her help with all these projects. I mean, she was practically throwing herself at me to help, and then she just up and disappears for days without a word?” She put her hands on her hips, scoffing. “I wouldn't even want her to come back now. If she does, I'm not letting her in, and no amount of moony eyes from you is going to stop me.” She stopped to point an accusing finger at Princess Emmie.

From the front of the house, a clatter sounded. Win whipped towards the door. However, instead of a girl with overly energetic hair, she saw two dragons standing around a broken flower pot, ducking their heads sheepishly. She turned back and caught Princess Emmie watching her. “Oh, shut up.”

* * *

Win looked down at her wood block, trying to remember what she'd been trying to carve.
 

“It looks like a depressed eggplant,” Win said, quite accurately. “Ivy'd probably love it.” She tossed it onto the pile of unfortunate wooden vegetables beside her.

The sky was overcast, hanging low and soppy, and Win felt listless under it.
 

Tiny grunts and rustling sounded behind her, and she cast a sidelong glance at the lanky, opal-scaled dragon dragging a worn plaid work shirt out to the edge of the step. She dropped it in a heap and circled over it several times, plucking it with her claws and curling up in the middle of the makeshift nest.
 

Win cleared her throat and looked away. “There's no need to be so melodramatic, Mistress Moonbeam.”
 

* * *

Early the next morning, Win crashed through the house, grabbing for spare amulets and digging through the cupboard for her second rubber boot. Around the house, dragons blinked open bleary eyes, some following her in groggy curiosity.
 

“All right, you all are driving me up the wall,” she announced, winding a chunky knit scarf around her neck until it hid half her face, “so I'm going down to find out what happened to that girl you got so attached to. Hopefully her Center hasn't taken her as a human sacrifice.” Stomping through the doorway, she stopped to poke her head back inside. “I hope that for
your
sake.”

Hunching like a turtle in its shell, Win trudged down the hill and onto the main road on the outskirts of town. It was drizzling in fits and starts like a leaky roof. Grimacing as the cool water slid down her hair, she already wondered what had possessed her to leave her house.

Looking up, she saw a figure bicycling towards her, a smudge of loud colors between the gray road and the grayer sky. An uninvited thrill danced in her stomach. “Ivy?”