Chapter Thirty-Five – The Dragon’s Favorite Strays
Chapter Thirty-Five
DAKOTA
A dog.
I’m so relieved that I start laughing. It’s not a woman being held captive, but a dog. That takes things down a few notches from ‘absolutely dire’ to ‘just shitty’. I look over at Rabbit, though, and she’s got an absolutely devastated look on her face. I know she’s thinking of Kermit, who she’s become very attached to very quickly.
“I’m so sorry, Aggie,” my sweet daughter says.
“She’s the best dog.” Aggie gives a watery sniff. “She deserves better.”
It looks like we’re going to rescue a dog, somehow. “You should have told us what was going on.”
“Didn’t know if we could trust you,” Dottie points out. “And it’s a dog. A lot of people wouldn’t stick their necks out for an animal.”
“We will,” Rabbit says immediately. “Right, Mom?”
Some of my frustration with the two women ebbs away. I’m no longer seeing them as two shifty old ladies hiding all kinds of secrets. Instead, they look like two very tired women being blackmailed by a jerk over a beloved pet. “We’re going back to the bookstore,” I say. “And we’re going to find some paint somewhere to cover up all this graffiti. And you’re going to tell us everything so we can figure out how to move forward.”
“You’re going to help us get her back?”
I nod, even as a huge form circles overhead, blotting out the sun momentarily and casting us in a dragon-shaped shadow. “We’ve got a secret weapon. This guy doesn’t stand a chance.”
Aggie surges forward, her hands out as if she wants to clasp my face. “I could kiss you.”
I grab her hands before she can do just that. “I’d settle for you carrying your pack back to the bookstore.”
She makes a ‘pffft’ sound with her mouth. “Ain’t we got a dragon?”
“He’s not a pack mule,” I point out, turning her around and gently steering her back towards her waiting bag. “And you would need his permission. Besides, it’ll do you good.”
#
What seemed like a short distance earlier this morning feels very far away with a huge pack on my back. Aggie and Dottie don’t bitch about having to haul everything, though. They trudge grimly along behind Rabbit, who’s carrying a pack bigger than Dottie.
Murr continues to lazily circle overhead as we hike our way back to the bookstore. I wonder if it feels good for him to be in his dragon form for a while? I know he chooses to remain human when around us, but I’m not sure which form is his ‘real’ form, or if there even is such a thing. It might be that he’s just being overly protective, but it makes me curious. I wave up at him as we walk, because I don’t want him to think we don’t see him or we’re not thankful for his presence.
Frankly, Murr’s the biggest thing keeping us safe right now and I’m well aware of it. I want to thank him, but the usual ways don’t seem like they would work. He doesn’t strike me as the type to want ‘stuff’. I can’t feed him, because he is better at hunting than we are.
Maybe a more permanent kilt?
Maybe a kith, comes a little voice in my head.
Rabbit’s a bad influence because now I’m thinking about it, too (and I’m calling it a kith).
When we return to the bookstore, the cats immediately come running, no doubt hoping for food. Rabbit drops her pack and immediately sits on the ground, patting her chest, and the cats crawl all over her, rubbing against her hands and face. Aggie throws her pack down dramatically and flings herself onto my favorite lawn chair set near the fire. “Take me now, Jesus. I’ve got no strength left in my bones.”
“Oh be quiet,” Dottie tells her, but there’s affection in her tone. She sets down her pack carefully, with controlled movements. “You literally carried two pillows a block.”
“Was that only a block? Felt like twenty.” Aggie puts her hand to her forehead. “I need a handsome man to come and fan me so I can cool off. Where’s Big Meat?”
I’m not gonna laugh at her nickname for him. I’m not. It’ll just encourage her. I glance up at the sky and notice Murr settling on a distant rooftop, folding his wings in. “His name is Murr, and he’ll be here soon, I’m sure. Let him be a dragon for a while. It probably feels good to hang out in the sunlight.”
“I guess,” Aggie says dramatically. Dottie pulls up a chair next to her and sits down, too. She’s not as melodramatic as Aggie, but I can tell she looks tired, and I feel a hint of guilt at making them carry packs. Maybe it was too much after all?
I set down my pack next to theirs. “You three stay here. I’ll get the kettle and we’ll boil some water for tea.”
“Get some medicine for the cats,” Rabbit adds, rubbing the cheeks of a little sealpoint kitten. “This one’s still looking gunky.”
“Tea, and cat medicine,” I amend. “And then you can tell me all about Stella and what happened, and we can make plans to get her back.”
