The Black Collar: Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

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“I don’t want to go to the market, Kirra.”

Alvaranox lay on warm grass, his vast green wings outstretched in the golden morning sunshine. All around him stretched a blanket of soft green. The sun-warmed grasses were interwoven with vast tapestries of vibrant color. The wildflowers that sprang up after the storms had nearly conquered the entire meadow. Clusters of cherry red flowers and tall stalks covered in tiny purple blossoms were the most recent additions to the rainbow of wild colors. A clear trail of flattened grass and crushed flowers marked the area walked from his home to the middle of the meadow every day. A wider area of meadow had long since rebounded from the trampling boots of the Council and their guards.

“Come along, Sling.” Kirra giggled. “You need the exercise before you get your stitches out.”

Alvaranox scrunched his muzzle and flared his spines. “Don’t you dare call me Sling.” His foreleg and paw were healing well and nearly ready to bear his weight. Yet Kirra wouldn’t let the dragon go without the sling until his stitches were removed.

“Very well,“ Kirra said, waving her hand. Then she smirked. “Hopalong it is. Now hobble after me, Hopalong. I’ll buy you some lunch and a treat.”

A growl crept up Alvaranox’s throat. He narrowed his eyes. In the sunlight they glowed gold. “You shall have to buy a tool to remove my teeth from your face if you call me that again.”

“That’s not very nice, Hobbles.”

Alvaranox hissed. He lashed his spined tail against the grass, tearing a few earthen ruts and tossing shredded green blades about. Time to try a new tactic. “Nylah! Kirra won’t stop calling me names.”

Nylah glanced up from the table she sat at, sorting the dragon’s herbal doses for the day. Though Alv was nearly healed, Nylah still worked full time alongside Kirra. She smirked, and shook her head. Frizzy gray hair swished around her face. “So tease her back.”

Alvaranox cocked his black-horned head, glaring at Kirra. “You’re ugly and you smell bad.”

“Hey!” Kirra wavered between offended and amused. Then she swatted the dragon on his gold-blotched nose. “That isn’t what she meant.”

Alvaranox yelped and yanked his head back, his green scaled neck curling into an S. The dragon sat up onto his haunches, glancing back at his former Handler. She may as well be his second handler, now. “Now she’s hitting me, Nylah.”

Nylah picked up a bundle of herbs with serrated, three-pronged leaves. She shook the herbs at the dragon. “If you keep acting like a bratty hatchling, I’m going to come over there and hit you, too. Now go with Kirra to the market. She’s right, you do need the exercise. You’re spending too much time sitting around on your scaly ass. You’ll end up as fat as Stupid Fish.”

“Who’s fault is that?” The dragon tossed his head, swiveling his frilled ears back. “I shall get plenty of exercise as soon as you two stop forbidding me to fly.”

“Once you can walk on this,” Kirra said, gently touching the dragon’s bandaged paw. “We’ll let you fly. But only slowly and carefully at first.”

“Yes, Mother,” Alvaranox said, snorting.

He twisted his serpentine neck and peered back at his foreleg. Damn thing was almost completely wrapped in the cloth sling bound around the base of his neck. By now he was used to wearing the humiliating device but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing to be seen in public with it. Both the sling and the bandages affixed to his scales with sticky resin made him itch, too. As did the stitches holding his healing wounds together. He stretched his neck, rubbing his muzzle against the bandage at the top of his shoulder. Thinking about the damn thing made it itch even more.

“Come along,” Kirra said, backing away from the dragon. She beckoned at him with her hands. “This way, Alv. And stop scratching.”

“I’m not scratching,” Alvaranox said, snorting. “I am gently rubbing.”

“You know if that was me trying to get you to the market, I’d use a lot more force.” Nylah cut the stems from a bundle of herbs with a single swift chop of her large knife. “If I were you, I’d follow her before she decides to start twisting your ears around.”

“Thank you for the advice, Old Lady.” Alvaranox sighed in frustration, and slowly pushed himself up to his three good paws. Nylah hadn’t given him as much worried grief about the attacks as he thought she would, so perhaps he should leave before she berated him for bashing down his own door. He folded his wings against his body, shaking himself. “When I am healed, I am flying to my island and lounging in the sun all day long just to spite you.”

“I’m not sure how that spites either of us, Alv,” Kirra said, giggling. “But once you’re healed you can lounge wherever you want. Now follow me. Let’s use your trail so you don’t flatten any more of the wildflowers.”

“You look like a wildflower,“ Alvaranox said, hobbling after her.

“Thank you,” Kirra said with a smile, shrugging off any perceived insult. “Wildflowers are beautiful.”

Kirra wore a soft looking red sundress that cascaded down her body in crimson layers. Though her long curly hair bore more of a copper tint like Alvaranox’s eyes, the dress matched it well nonetheless. It clashed a bit with her green eyes but no more so than her hair already did. The dress hung from her shoulders but had little in the way of sleeves. It was loose and comfortable, good for a warm summer’s day. Weeks spent tending a recovering dragon who enjoyed lounging in the sun had brought a tan to her fair skin. She had a simple leather coin purse cinched around her waist and a pair of cloth sandals.

“Well, you don’t look very official. Nylah always used to wear sturdier clothing when she was working.” The dragon flicked his tail, glancing back at his former handler. Even as he’d grown to trust Kirra, Nylah was still a steadying presence whenever she was around.

“I don’t need to wear a pair of breeches and a stuffy blouse to take care of you, Alv. Besides, you’ve been healing so well there hasn’t been much for me to do.” Kirra held up her hands to the dragon, grinning. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’d better not.” The dragon looked down at Kirra as she began to walk at his side, keeping an eye on his wounded limb. “But you hardly project an aura of authority when you’re wearing a sundress.”

“I don’t care what I project, Alv.” Kirra shrugged and put her hand on the dragon’s scales. “I can be comfortable and take care of you at the same time. I don’t really care what people think, anyway. They know I’m your Handler, and they know I’m in charge of you just as much as you do.”

Alvaranox tossed his head, flaring his spines. “That remains to be seen. Very well. You may continue to look like a red thistle.”

“Thistle?” Kirra slapped the dragon’s neck. “What happened to wildflower?

“You wilted. Besides, your hair looks like red thistle fluff.” He smirked at her.

Kirra folded her arms, still grinning. “Lucky for you, I happen to like thistles.”

“Good, because you’ve a tongue like a thorn.” Alvaranox glared down at her.

“Then you should compare me to a rose.”

“You’d have to do something about that smell, first.”

Alvaranox found himself laughing alongside Kirra. The more time she spent with the dragon the more her easygoing demeanor was starting to shine through, especially when Nylah wasn’t around. Kirra still tried to discover how far down her throat she could shove her own foot on a near-daily basis, but more and more she refused to let her mistakes rule her. She was certainly trying hard, Alvaranox had to give her that.

As their laughter faded, Alvaranox watched Kirra walk when she wasn’t looking his way. In his heart, he considered her a good friend now. He doubted he’d ever admit such a thing. He barely even admitted as much to Nylah. For a few days after the attempt on Alvaranox’s life, the dragon saw dark clouds behind Kirra’s eyes. He was thankful that they soon lifted. Whatever innocence she had lost as men died around her was not near enough to rot out her good nature. She had it in her to claw her way out of whatever dark hole life’s worst moments pushed her into her. She was a far stronger person than Alvaranox ever would have guessed before his injury, that was for sure.

Asterryl was relatively quiet as the dragon and his Handler made their way through town. It was mid-afternoon in the middle of the week, so many residents were busy working or caring for children. That was fine with Alvaranox. He wasn’t sure how many sweat-stinking gawkers he could bring himself to deal with today. Thankfully as his body healed the crowds that gathered for a look at him had diminished by the day. As the crowds lessened, the number of guards acting as barrier shrunk as well. Today a few armored men in blue and gold surcoats trailed them but kept a respectful distance that Alvaranox appreciated. He was used to it now anyway. After the attack he never went anywhere without guards keeping watch.

As usual, one of his personal guards was Davan. Davan was the man with the crossbow who helped fight off the assassins. After Alvaranox offered his name, the guard did the same. Alv wouldn’t consider him a friend, exactly, but thanks to his efforts he certainly trusted Davan more than the other guards. He dipped his horned head in a casual greeting, and Davan waved at the dragon, but maintained his respectful distance.

Alvaranox flicked his frills ears at the sound of hammers pounding against nails and men calling out orders in the distance. Set back a little ways from the cobblestone path they trod were a few framework buildings just under construction. Men scrabbled over the skeletal frames, lashing notched logs together and nailing wooden planks into place. If they noticed the dragon watching them from the road they paid him little heed. Alvaranox unsheathed a few claws and dragged them over the cobblestone, leaving little scratch marks.

“Your town is always growing, isn’t it.” The dragon licked his nose and gave a little sigh.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Kirra said, rubbing his shoulder.

“It is,” the dragon said, snorting. “At this rate you’ll be kicking me out of my home just when I’ve gotten settled in.” He tilted his head down to glare at Kirra, baring his fangs. “If I have to have yet another house built, I demand a tavern be included.”

“If you had a tavern inside your house we’d never get you out of it.” Kirra waved her hand at the ebony collar encircling the dragon’s green-scaled neck. Images of dragons in flight unleashing roaring flames encircled the collar. “That thing would ring the warning bell in your head, and you’d be so drunk you couldn’t even find your way to the door.”

“That would be delightful,” Alvaranox said, licking his muzzle again. “Now I’m thirsty.”

“Be a good dragon, and I’ll get you a little wine before we go home.” Kirra patted his cheek, smiling. “Now come along. I’m hungry, and I want to get something to eat at the market.”

Alvaranox flattened his spines out, watching the workers a moment longer. “Still think your town is getting too damn big.” In the back of his mind, the dragon heard a faint bell toll. “And the collar agrees with me!”

“Oh?” Kirra started walking again, her crimson skirt swishing around her ankles. “Does it? Are you sure it’s not just telling you you’re not allowed to think you have too many people to protect?”

“Probably,” the dragon said, padding along after her. At least his uninjured foreleg didn’t ache as badly from extended travel anymore. Nor did the dragon’s wounds throb from the motion the way they once did. “But I like my idea better.”

Alvaranox followed Kirra deeper into the city. Despite all the years the collar had bound him to Asterryl’s protection, Alvaranox still didn’t know the city as well as Kirra. Kirra led Alvaranox onto an unfamiliar side street to avoid the crowd of people milling about some traveling peddler. Alvaranox appreciated the gesture. He didn’t like being surrounded by crowds when he was healthy, let alone when he was limping. Yet the fact he had passed the little street without ever really noticing it made him wonder how many other parts of the city he’d never seen.

Damn city was always growing. The bell chimed in the back of his mind, and Alvaranox snorted. Yes, yes, he thought. He’d protect Asterryl no matter how large it grew. Not like he was given a choice.

Alvaranox limped down the narrow path after Kirra. It seemed more an alley than a street, barely wide enough to allow the dragon to walk it without bumping his wings. It was quiet and peaceful, far more pleasant than the usual grimy and mysteriously damp alleyways he used as short cuts. Though narrow, the street had a warm, inviting quality to it. Between buildings, tall oaks sheltered benches beneath their boughs. A few colorful flags waved from rooftop corners. The taller buildings had overhanging eaves to shelter pedestrians from the sun and rain.

The walls enclosing the small side street were painted with colorful murals. They reminded the dragon of the way Nylah painted her house every spring. One wall was covered in green hills and silvery rain drops. Another had blue and purple butterflies across a white background, circling the open door of a little bakery. Delightful aromas of baking bread and sweet cakes wafted out. Alvaranox came to a stop, licking his muzzle.

“Kirra, you said you’d buy me treats, right?”

“I think I said one treat,” Kirra replied, turning around.

“It’s going to be a lot more than that,” Alvaranox said, grinning. He swished his tail, then cringed when his tail spines thumped loudly against a building. “Should make wider streets. This place smells good. Buy me something delicious.”

“I hope you haven’t put a hole in their wall, or they’re not going to want to sell us anything.” Kirra squeezed her way past the dragon to inspect the wall. “Luckily for you, you’ve only scratched it.”

“It would have been your fault anyway. You’re the one who brought me down here.”

Kirra came back around to the dragon’s head. “Very funny. What do you want to eat from here?”

“I’ve no idea,” Alvaranox said. “Give me a moment.”

Alvaranox dropped his head and pushed it through the open doorway of the bakery. There was a terrified scream from the woman within. Apparently she hadn’t expected to see a large green dragon’s head suddenly emerge from the street. Alvaranox grinned. It was nice to know he could still scare at least one human in this city. He’d probably only startled her but a scream was a scream. While the woman collected herself, Alvaranox glanced around.

The bakery was warm and the scents inside were magnified many times over. The aromas of sweet cakes and fruit tarts hung heavy in the air, along with the smells of fresh, hearty bread and a hint of cinnamon. The walls were lined with shelves displaying the day’s offerings, and towards the back large cases showcased all manner of desserts. The baker was a woman dressed in the purple shades of twilight who looked as though she’d been enjoying plenty of her wares over the years. Lucky woman, the dragon thought.

“Dragon!” The woman said when she caught her breath, clutching her chest. Her flour-caked hand left a white print on her lavender blouse. “You nearly scared me half to death.”

“Yes, I noticed.” Alvaranox grinned at her. “What have you got that’s delicious?”

The woman took a deep breath, and let it out in a slow sigh. Then she shook her finger at the dragon. “Everything’s delicious here, Dragon. But if you go around scaring people like that you won’t be getting any of it.”

Alvaranox ignored her attempts to reprimand him. “I should like some of your honey cakes, I think.” He withdrew his head before the baker could offer any further argument, and looked down at Kirra. “Well go on, pay the woman.”

Kirra muttered something incompressible under her breath. Alvaranox pretended to comprehend it anyway as Kirra vanished into the bakery. “You’re lucky I’ve only got one good forepaw or I’d swat you on your haunches for that.”

“Humans don’t have haunches, Alv.“ Kirra’s voice drifted back to him through the doorway. A few moments later, Kirra reemerged with a wooden tray and a few freshly baked honey cakes upon it. “Besides, it’d be the last time I ever bought you anything nice if you did.”

“No it wouldn’t,” Alvaranox said, lowering his head to take the first treat into his muzzle. The pastry was sweet, soft and still warm. It was dusted with cinnamon and slathered with sticky honey icing. The cake was so delightfully sweet it made Alvaranox shiver. His scales all clicked together, and a rumbling purr rattled in his chest before he could muffle it. “Oh, Gods that’s good,” he said as soon as he’d swallowed it.

Kirra offered him another honey cake, and then took one for herself while Alvaranox was still eating his. She trotted down the street to the guards keeping watch, offering the remaining cakes to Davan and his partner. Kirra then slipped back into the bakery to return the tray. Once she was back, Alvaranox lowered his head to peer into the bakery again. He called out to the woman inside, licking icing from his nose.

“Those were delightful!”

“Thank you dragon!” The baker beamed, proud to have the town’s guardian beast enjoying her wares. “I hope they helped cheer you up after that dreadful episode with those terrible men.”

Alvaranox grunted. He hated having the whole town know people had come here to kill him. Perhaps he could use it to his advantage, though. “They helped a little. Feel free to send all you have to my home. I’m sure Kirra will cover it.”

“Think again, Dragon,” Kirra said around a mouthful of pastry. Then she began to walk down the street once more before the dragon could get her in any more trouble.

The little side street wound through a quiet district of Asterryl, passing a few more little shops and cafes tucked away where Alv had never noticed them. He paused to try and peer into a tavern, but it was dark inside and the place looked empty. The dragon flared his spines. What kind of tavern wasn’t open at…Alvaranox peered up at the sky. …Ten in the morning or so. Perhaps needing a drink at ten in the morning was more his problem than the tavern’s.

The dragon and his Handler followed the little street until it intersected one of the main thoroughfares again. It was still fairly quiet. From there it was an easy walk into the market. Though one of several, it was the largest and easiest market for the dragon to navigate. The others were all cramped lanes and confined spaces overstuffed with stalls and vendors. One was filled with all variety of livestock waiting to be sold or slaughtered.

The last time Alvaranox visited the cramped market he’d upended a cart selling milled flour and a carriage hawking fresh honey and sugar. Thankfully he hadn’t been made to clean up the mess. Instead he suggested they scrape it all up together and bake themselves some dirt cookies. Then when he visited the market with all the livestock and beasts of burden, he’d frightened a group of previously placid oxen so badly they’d broken through the walls of their pen and nearly tramped half the market goers in a terrified stampede. In the ensuing chaos Alvaranox had decided to help himself to a few cages worth of chickens and ducks.

Ever since then his handlers thought it best he visit the more spacious market occupying the village’s large central plaza.

Visiting the plaza market was always a strange experience for Alvaranox. When he was first brought to Asterryl, that plaza was nearly empty, and the city around it was half the size it was now. Over the years the market slowly blossomed. New permanent stalls and buildings were added year by year, and the layout of the place often changed. Though it had held its current configuration for at least ten years or so, it still seemed new to Alvaranox. It still held memories.

Alvaranox came to a stop. For a moment he saw the plaza empty again. The stone walls that surrounded it were bare and gray. No banners nor paint marked them, only patches of lichen and the wear of time. They ran around the plaza in rough, strangely geometric lines. The wall was not continuous, it was interrupted by roads and entryways into the market. Back then there were fewer buildings beyond the walls. The plaza and its walls seemed to sit in their own empty space in the center of Asterryl.

Though the plaza was nearly circular, the walls that surrounded it were not. Nor did they form an octagon or any other shape with evenly spaced and numbered sides. It always seemed a strange pattern to the dragon, but then again he never could make sense of the way humans constructed their towns.

He remembered those walls, though. And that empty plaza. And the cold, gray skies that day. And the chains that bound him. And the man with the collar, taken from the black box that spewed forth the waste…

“Alv?” Kirra’s voice drew the dragon from his thoughts.

Alvaranox blinked a few times, copper eyes unfocused. He collected himself, and gave a little snarl. He’d been mixing up memory and dream again.

“Are you alright?” Kirra gently stroked the golden blotch between his green nostrils.

“Yes,” Alvaranox murmured, pushing his muzzle against Kirra’s hand. “I was just remembering.”

“Remembering what?” Kirra asked, though the moment the question fell from her lips she wished she could pull it right back in.

“This plaza,” Alvaranox said. He opened an emerald wing, gesturing with the black marked edge of it towards the market. “This is where they collared me.”

Kirra’s hand froze on Alvaranox’s muzzle. She sucked in a sharp breath. Alv’s claws may as well have squeezed her heart. She hadn’t even thought about that. “I’m sorry, Alv! I didn’t mean…”

“Nonsense, Kirra,” the dragon said. He snorted and hot breath washed across her palm. “It is hardly my first time visiting this place since then. Now buy me some damn treats already.”

Alvaranox took a few hobbling steps forward, and then curled his tail around Kirra’s midsection. She yelped in surprise and then laughed as the dragon tugged his tail, bringing her with him. For a few moments she walked along behind him. Kirra was glad the dragon was careful of his tail spines, and gladder still that he didn’t seem upset to have been brought to a place that held such painful memories for him.

“What are you going to want?” Kirra rubbed his tail.

“I seem to recall you promising me lunch, so I should like something filling.” The dragon looked back at her a moment, and slowly uncurled his tail from the woman. “But I should also like tarts, I think. With plenty of fruit.”

Though the market was not crowded this time of day it still rattled with the hum of many voices. The calls of vendors hawking their wares rose above the din. The delightful aromas of sizzling meats and roasted vegetables that hung in the air coaxed an ominous rumble from the dragon’s belly. He licked his nose, green nostrils flaring around the golden blotch. Alvaranox turned his head back and forth, tracking a few of the scents.

“I smell lamb,” the dragon said. He followed the wafting aroma, limping into the market plaza. “That is what we shall feast upon.”

“I hope they’ve got enough for a dragon,” Kirra said. She put a hand on Alvaranox’s side as she walked with him.

“If not they shall have to cook more immediately.”

The market was organized into several sets of rings. The outermost ring comprised a variety of permanent buildings and stalls built up against the old walls that surrounded the plaza. Most of them were shops selling various daily essentials such as clothing and tools, tack for horses and beasts of burden. Others offered services such as tailoring or smithing or construction and repair work. A wide line ran between the outer buildings and the next ring of vendors.

The second ring held less permanent structures that changed as often as the weather. There were large tents made of a variety of colorful canvases helpful for catching the eye. Between them were simple stalls built of wooden framework lashed together with tarps serving as makeshift roofs. Those vendors sold an ever changing variety of goods. Fresh fruits and vegetables were common, as were medicinal herbs, bolts of silk, cloth, canvas and other materials. Others sold wheat or barley or other grains, some offered pre-milled sacks of flour. Rare spices from other towns showed up now and then. Jewelry, trinkets and baubles both valuable and petty were often haggled over. When the lizard-like Va’chaak visited Asterryl, they usually found a place to set up shop in the second ring.

A few more increasingly small rings held a few pens for livestock such as sheep and goats, or cages to hold poultry. The smaller rings also had display booths set up for artisans, sculptors, and potters to show off their wares. Sloped, thatched roofs helped to shield artwork and pottery from inclement weather. Strings of colorful banners stretched between each ring of vendors, flapping in the light summer breeze. Some of the banners were low enough that Alvaranox had to duck his head to walk beneath them. The little flags tickled his wings.

Once Alvaranox honed in on the scent of roasting lamb, he followed it towards the center of the plaza. At that time of day there were more vendors in the market than shoppers, but a few people still had to get out of the dragon’s way. Calls of “Hello dragon!” quickly turned into “Watch out! Dragon!” Hobbled or not Alvaranox was not about to let some slow-witted human impede his quest for roasted lamb.

Alvaranox didn’t really want to talk to anyone anyway. Yes, he was feeling a little better. No, he couldn’t fly yet. Yes, he was still healing. No, he wasn’t ready to go fight monsters and bandits yet. Yes, they’d have to do that themselves for a while. No, he didn’t think a group of singing children would make him feel better. In fact, that would make the dragon feel worse.

A food court lay at the center of the plaza. Multiple large, stone hearths housed a variety of cooking fires. Some held spits for roasting whole animals, others burned beneath immense pots of stew and soup. Others were covered with wet wood, beneath racks of fish and meat for smoking. Ownership of each hearth was shared by a variety of cooks and merchants, and the offerings varied by the day. Towering wooden poles carved with fanciful images of dragons and eagles held aloft a set of shade canopies. Benches, tables and chairs were strewn haphazardly around the area.

Alvaranox wanted to stride through the food court, proud and fearsome. But with his foreleg in the sling, the best he could manage was a determined yet limping hop. He made up for it by swatting aside an offending chair some fool had left right in his path. The few patrons eating lunch in the food court quickly moved away from the dragon. Alvaranox grinned. At least he’d put a little fear into them. Even if it was just the fear of being struck by a flying chair.

The scent the dragon followed emanated from a hearth where an older man was cooking an entire lamb upon a spit. The skin of it was crackling and lightly blackened, speckled with herbs and dusted with spices. He’d put a lot of care into it, roasted it for hours, and planned to spend the afternoon selling it to as many customers as possible.

Alvaranox walked up to the spit and pointed his muzzle towards the lamb. “I shall have that, now.”

“The…the whole thing?” The cook stammered a little, rubbing his hands on his black, grease-stained apron. “I was going to be serving it all day.”

“Then it sounds as though you’re going to get the afternoon off, aren’t you.” Alvaranox snorted, settling down upon his haunches. The dragon looked the cook over. His face was ruddy from the heat of the fire, and his scraggly gray beard looked stained by the wood smoke. Alvaranox hoped he hadn’t gotten any beard hair on the lamb. “Kirra, pay the man.”

“I don’t know that I have that much coin, Alv,” Kirra said, tugging at a red curl. She bit her lip. “I didn’t know you were going to want a whole lamb.”

“Surely you can haggle with the man about the price.” Alvaranox smirked at her, then flared his spines and gave the chef a hard look. “I’m certain he wants to keep his town’s guardian happy and satisfied, considering said guardian nearly died to protect this place. Twice.”

“Yes…well…” The man stammered a bit, rubbing the back of his head. From the greasy look of his thinning gray hair it wasn’t the first time he’d done so. “I suppose we could work out a deal.”

“Good.” Alvaranox snorted. He flared out a wing, flicking one of his wing-tip talons towards a patch of plaza that was as pleasantly sunny as it was pleasantly empty. “I shall be over there.”

Alvaranox rose back to his feet and hobbled to his chosen spot, leaving Kirra to negotiate the price. That was her job, after all. He hoped she’d remember to leave enough coin in her purse to buy them some tarts, too. Otherwise he’d just have to take them and leave the vendor to seek reimbursement from the city. Really, as far as he was concerned, they should all be offering him free food any time they saw him. He’d damn near died for their stupid town. Twice.

Come to think of it, Nylah said something about the permanent vendors in the market wanting to offer him treats and special meals in thanks for the blood he shed on their behalf. Food was hardly suitable recompense for blood. Better than nothing, though. Not that anyone here had offered him anything. Then again, those offers were made when he was still convalescing. They may have rescinded them by now. Perhaps if he’d stopped and chatted with some of them instead of just barging up and claiming their wares, they might be happier to fulfill his requests.

Still, the city would surely reimburse any coin the vendors lost. Come to think of it, perhaps he should tell Kirra to send the man to the city for payment instead. Thinking of the city made the dragon scowl. The Council had not returned to question him again, but the encounter left the bitter taste of fire bile lingering in his mouth. They’d called Nylah and Kirra to their offices since then though Alv couldn’t understand why. Perhaps they thought words held different meaning when they slipped from a dragon’s tongue.

Maybe Alvaranox should go visit their offices as well, and tell them where to stick their questions. They could all get mounted for all he cared.

As the dragon waited for Kirra to finish negotiating, he looked around the food court. In a blink, the place was burning. The hearths had toppled over, the tables were on fire. Smoke choked the air. The vendor stalls were all engulfed in flame. Screams rose from some of the burning tents. Alvaranox blinked again and the market was in ruins. The fires had long died out, but the stink of scorched flesh remained. The bones of crumbled buildings lay alongside those of men. The collar buzzed around the dragon’s neck.

Alvaranox growled and squeezed his eyes shut to block out the sight. Unlike the spectral bell that called him to action, the images did not linger in his mind. When he opened his eyes again, everything was normal and the collar was quiet. Kirra now stood in front of him, giving him a concerned look. Davan and the other guard had moved a little closer, watching the dragon in concern while eating some food they’d purchased. Alvaranox huffed a sigh, lowering spines he hadn’t realized he’d flared in sudden fear.

“I’m fine,” the dragon snapped before Kirra could ask the question. “Where is my food?”

“It’s coming,” Kirra said, concern still etched across her scowling face. “Are you sure…”

“Yes.” Alvaranox thumped his tail against the ground. He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to talk about it either. It was not just his dreams haunted by terrible glimpses of ruination anymore. “So don’t ask.”

“Alright, Alv,” Kirra said, reaching up to stroke the dragon’s muzzle. When he lowered his head, she slipped her hand beneath his jaw line to gently rub his chin. “He’s cutting all the meat off the bones, and I’m having him pack some up for us, so we can take lunch back to Nylah.”

Much as Alvaranox wanted to eat the whole thing himself, that was a good idea. “She will like that,” he said, trying to push the unpleasant images from his mind. “I hope you did not have to spend too much money. Surely the city will reimburse you.”

“They will,” Kirra said, smiling again. “I got a pretty good deal with him, but I had to agree to get you to tell everyone you meet it’s the best lamb you’ve ever eaten.”

Alvaranox gave a growling laugh. “That isn’t going to happen.”

“I know that,” Kirra said, giggling. “But he doesn’t. So just play along.”

The dragon snorted, looking around the mostly empty food court. “I don’t know why he expects me to be talking to many people anyway. It’s not as if many people in this town wish to talk to their Guardian Slave.”

Kirra scowled as she pulled a scuffed table up in front of the dragon. Then she fetched a wooden chair that creaked when she settled into it. She reached over and stroked the dragon’s shoulder. “You might be surprised. About how many people would enjoy talking to you, I mean.”

“Be that as it may,” Alvaranox said, clattering his tail-spines against the cobblestone. “I would not enjoy talking to them.”

“It couldn’t hurt to try and make a few more friends, Alv,” Kirra said, softening her voice.

Alvaranox growled, tilting his wedge-shaped head back to watch a few misshapen clouds drift across the azure sky. “I do not need more friends. I have you, and Nylah.”

“So I’m your friend now, am I?” Kirra asked, giggling. She twisted a curl of red hair around her finger, smirking at the dragon. “I’m flattered, Alv.”

Alv’s spines flattened out against his head. He pinned his ears back, disgusted with himself. That hadn’t come out the way he’d meant it, but it wasn’t a lie either. “Don’t let it go to your head. My point is, I don’t need any other friends.”

“Why not?”

Alvaranox waved his paw in the air, hissing through sharp teeth. “What would I do with them? Invite them into my sleeping chamber to play games and roll dice?”

“Sure,” Kirra said, laughing. “I can just see you sitting there at a gaming table covered in treasure you’re all betting on.” She lowered her voice into a gruff approximation of a growl. “Oh damn! I rolled a two! Kiss my green stones!” Then she swept her hands through the air as if tossing an entire table aside in anger.

Alvaranox smirked down at her, tail tip flicking back and forth.

Kirra blinked, staring back up at him. “What are you smirking at?”

“Aside from your very poor impression of me?” The dragon inclined his head towards the food vendor bearing a massive wooden tray stacked high with roasted lamb. He’d arrived just in time to hear Kirra exclaim something about kissing her green stones, and was now giving her a very odd look. “Your audience.”

Kirra twisted in her chair, squeaking in alarm when she saw the vendor. “Oh! Sorry. I wasn’t telling you to kiss my green stones. I was…that is, I don’t have stones! And if I did, they certainly wouldn’t be green. But Alvaranox’s are green, and he often…” The vendor’s eyes grew wider and wider, and the dragon burst into growling laughter. Kirra grit her teeth as she realized she was only wading into deeper water. “Just give me the tray.”

Kirra took the heavy tray from the vendor, and set it upon the table. The air was quickly redolent with the delightfully rich aroma of roasted lamb and the sharp tang of sauce made with freshly picked mint. The smells made the dragon’s belly rumble loudly enough to back the vendor up a few steps. He nervously rubbed his hands together, and gave a stiff bow.

“I hope you enjoy it, uh, dragon,” he said, backing away another step.

“Yes, yes,” Alvaranox muttered. The man clearly didn’t want to be around the dragon. Alvaranox was happy to be rid of him. “I’ll be sure and tell everyone I talk to how delightful it was.” That brought a smile to the man’s ruddy face as he turned around and walked back to his cooking station. Alvaranox didn’t consider that a lie. He just didn’t plan to actually talk to anyone.

Kirra fetched the two of them some water. She got a wooden mug for herself, and a large bowl for the dragon to drink from. Alvaranox helped himself to the lamb without waiting for Kirra, though he wouldn’t eat it all without leaving her some. The meal was delicious. The skin was crispy and well seasoned with thyme, rosemary, and garlic. The meat itself was tender and moist. Many of the thicker chunks cut from deeper in the lamb were still quite red, just the way the dragon liked them. Kirra gathered up a few large slices that were cooked a little more completely, brightening from gray beneath the skin and smoky fat to pink along the inside edge.

“What are you doing?” Alvaranox asked her beneath mouthfuls of the wonderful meat.

“Collecting a few bits that won’t make me sick before you eat them all.”

“Nonsense,” Alvaranox said, licking red juices from his muzzle. “None of it will make you sick.”

“None of it will make you sick,” Kirra said, chuckling. She pointed to a piece of red meat. “That bit’s still raw. Normally he’d carve it from the outside as people order, and the inside portions would continue to cook.”

Alvaranox cocked his head, peering at the large reddish hunk of lamb. “Yes, it is still raw.” He dropped his head, curled his tongue around the meat and pulled it into his muzzle. Then he purred as he chewed it a few times. “Delightful.”

“Don’t use your tongue, Alv,” Kirra said, laughing even as she chastised the dragon. “Or your teeth. Its fine when you’re the only one eating, but when you’re sharing a tray of food with someone else at least use your paws.”

Alvaranox fixed his copper eyes on the human woman, lifting his central crest. Then he made a show of grasping as much meat as he could in a single paw before trying to shove it all into his muzzle at once. A few bits fell out of his grasp, and a few more fell from his snout and splattered back onto the tray. He murmured something incomprehensible.

Kirra scrunched up her face, scooting her own selections of lamb as close to the edge of the tray as possible. “Going to have to teach you some table manners if you’re going to be out in public.”

When his mouth was nearly empty the dragon said, “I have every intention of avoiding public spaces as much as possible as soon as I’m healed.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t teach you to use a knife and fork.” Kirra picked up a slice of lamb in her fingers, nibbling on it. “Though I’m hardly the best example right now.”

“More an example of what humans could learn from dragons, I think.”

“We’d have to have a dragon sized knife and fork made.” Kirra ate another few bites of lamb, giggling to herself at the idea of Alvaranox acting dainty, using silverware to cut up all his meals.

When Kirra was finished with her portion of the meal, she returned to the vendor to pick up the extra portion for Nylah. She had it wrapped in parchment and packed away in a little basket so she could carry it with them. She also got a little more water and when she returned she used it to rinse off the dragon’s muzzle. Alvaranox glared at her, but did not stop her from cleaning the lamb juice from his scales. He was used to relying upon Nylah and Kirra to keep him clean.

“It’s going to be wonderful to be able to bath myself again,” the dragon muttered as Kirra dried his wet green scales with a cloth napkin.

“You say that like you’re not going to miss being waited on,” Kirra said, tucking away the napkin. “Are you ready to go?”

Alvaranox answered her question by rising up to his paws. He grunted a little as the movement sent twinges of pain rolling through his healing belly and paw. The dragon’s pain had lessened greatly over the last few weeks, but he was not sure it would ever disappear completely. He sniffed around, nostrils flaring as he honed in on the scents of fruit and pastry.

“I shall still expect you to do my bidding,” the dragon said as he began to limp along, following the scents. “But I shall be quite happy to get out of this foolish device you make me wear. And as joyous as I shall be to take to my wings once again, I shall be just as glad to be able to bathe myself in the lake and swim at my beach.”

Kirra blinked as she walked alongside the dragon. “Your beach?”

“Yes.” Alvaranox licked his nose, smiling at the thought of it. “Its on the shore of my island. Just a little beach, more fine pebble than sand. There was a dock there years ago, but I tore it up to help prevent humans from sullying my hideaway. On hot days in the summer I enjoy swimming out there, where it’s peaceful. On cooler days I just bathe myself quickly.”

A smile spread across Kirra’s face as they crossed the food court. By now a few more patrons had settled in at tables around the central area. “I didn’t know you liked to swim.”

“Nor did I expect you to.” The dragon rustled vast, black-mottled green wings against his sides. “I hardly go about paddling laps near the village boat docks. Gods, can you imagine the idiots calling out to me? Out for a swim, eh dragon? Of course I’m out for a swim you idiot. I’m in the water, and I haven’t drowned so I must be swimming!”

Kirra burst out laughing, shaking her head a little.

Alvaranox smirked at her for a moment. “Not sure what you’re laughing at. It’s your people who ask those obvious questions after all. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve been asked if I was out for a walk while I was going to see the old lady? Or, when lounging outside some tavern, having a barrel of wine, how many people do you think will ask me if I’m having a drink?”

“Having a barrel of wine?” Kirra blinked, incredulous. “No wonder you were hung over so much when I first became your handler.”

“A barrel isn’t that much,” Alvaranox said, huffing. “Not to me, anyway.”

Kirra just shook her head. As they were leaving the food court area, she noticed it had gotten a bit more crowded than before. The din of voices was still just a gentle hum but there were noticeably more people settled in around tables and browsing the various food vendors and fire pits. A few of them called out a greeting to Kirra, asked how the dragon was feeling.

A few more asked the dragon if he was out for a walk. Alvaranox growled. “Get-”

Kirra grinned at him. “Don’t say it, Alv.”

Alvaranox turned his head to the person who last asked the question. Instead of telling them to get mounted, he simply snapped, “Try the damn lamb.”