Chapter 37

Thirty-Seven

I staredat the dragon skeleton, which would fill a football stadium without too much trouble, then at the four eggs nestled together looking rather forlorn and abandoned, and had a mental huh moment.

Sidling up next to my sexy-as-hell fiancé, I commented, “I think in this round of Fae lore versus truth, truth won. It’s not a curse.”

Theon looked as bewildered as a child being told the tooth fairy was not, in fact, real. “How could this lie even get started?”

“Oh, trust me, I know how lies get started. Takes no effort for those to go around. But obviously, it’s a lie. Now my question is: What to do? How is that miasma even being made, so to speak? All I see is a skeleton and something shiny in its rib cage area.”

Grandma Haera glared in that direction. You know that look a woman has when someone dared to put a finger into her cookie dough? That level of aggravation. “It’s the dragon’s magic core. Still going strong after all these centuries.”

Really? An infinite power source? That was what I’d heard.

Look, I wasn’t saying I didn’t love Theon to pieces, I was just saying electricity and indoor plumbing would be nice.

My future father-in-law stared at the eggs, as if not hearing what his mother had said, expression pensive.

“I bet we could tame them.”

Everyone abruptly stopped and turned to look at him. Even I looked at him funny.

“Uhhh…correct me if I’m wrong, but the history I heard was that the dragons ravaged this area back in the day. It’s why the Fae and humans banded together to eradicate them.”

“Correct.” He still had that thoughtful look as he stared at the eggs, the wheels and cogs spinning in his eyes. “But I knew someone who had managed to find an unhatched egg. The dragonling imprinted on him instead and was tame as can be. It served as guardian for his village until it eventually died of old age.”

Something like how a duckling imprinted on the first animal it saw? I joined Ivaran in staring at the eggs with newfound interest. Four flying guard dogs that could breathe fire? Me likey.

Although feeding them was going to be a chore, not going to lie. If they grew to the size of their mother, a whole cow for every meal was the very least of what they’d eat. Definitely have to up my income to fill those bellies.

I looked up at Theon to find he was already looking at me, and in that second we had one of those amazing couple moments where we had a conversation without a single word passing between us. I never thought I’d have a moment like this, where I was so in tune with another person, and it felt like a lifelong wish had been granted.

“If we can get them to hatch,” Theon stated with a small smile, “then we’ll keep them.”

I leaned in, hugging him around the waist. He really would give me the world, wouldn’t he? If I didn’t give it to him first.

“Thanks, honey.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We have to figure out how to get them home first. Or even if we can. If that miasma is acting like a protective barrier, it might not let us take them from here.”

Erk. Good thought, that. All right, me, think. Felt a Pooh moment coming on: think, think, think.

Well, if the core powered the miasma, then… “Break the core?”

Every Fae in hearing distance protested “NO!” in unison.

“Eh? Uh, I take it that’s a bad idea.”

Shael earnestly explained, “The core has an incredible amount of energy in it. Even handling it wrong will set it off into an explosion strong enough to wipe out this mountain.”

Rather like finding an atomic bomb lying about and thinking it would be a good idea to drop kick it? “Got it, bad idea.”

Ara had her thinking cap on, and she knelt down to touch the egg with a bare hand. “Hear me out. If the eggs hatch, wouldn’t the barrier naturally dissipate?”

I couldn’t fault her logic. “I think so?”

“I certainly don’t see why it wouldn’t.” Grandpa Orym nudged the egg nearest him with a toe. “Although that shell’s hard as rock. Not sure how you’d get past it and force a hatching.”

Since I knew precisely nothing about dragons except that their magic cores could go explodey, I kept my mouth shut and listened. The Fae were the ones who’d fought the dragons, after all, and the older generation here actually remembered that crusade. If anyone could figure this out, surely it would be them.

Without any warning, Ara whipped her short sword out and smacked the egg. Sword bounced right off. I mean, the metal did that siiiing sound, but the sword bounced off like it was made of rubber.

In a flash of genius, I remembered a webtoon I’d read and offered, “What if it’s a holy sword? Something imbued with holy power?”

In a split second I was the center of attention. Theon didn’t even hesitate, just whipped his sword out and held it level in front of me.

“Do it.”

Do it, he says. I had no frickin’ clue how to…wait, what if I did this like I did the tonics? That was just intent and focus.

Putting out a hand so it hovered over the sword, I hummed a little for bardic inspiration, but mostly focused on putting holy power into the sword. It worked beautifully and within seconds the sword lit up on its own.

“Smack it,” I encouraged Theon.

He lifted the sword high overhead?—

“Not that hard!” Shael squawked.

I’d been a bit nervous about that myself. Theon underestimated his own strength sometimes. Glad Mom had said something.

Theon gave her an exasperated look but lowered the sword some before smacking the egg hard on the top.

Where it then bounced right off, much like Ara’s sword had.

“Can I hit it harder now?” Theon asked dryly.

Shael made a face, nose scrunched up. “Yes, fine, go ahead.”

This time he went with full force—and the sword still bounced off. Biiing!

Oh, wait, maybe this wasn’t a complete loss? I leaned in closer. “I think you scratched it.”

Everyone else leaned in with me before Ivaran reached out with a finger and rubbed over the line—which promptly disappeared.

“Nope, just a smudge.” He grunted as he straightened back up.

Well, there went all my hopes and dreams. I’d been so sure a holy sword would work, too.

Without any warning, Grandma Haera flung out a hand, barking something in the Fae tongue I didn’t have a prayer of understanding. She paused for dramatic effect.

Crickets.

Grandpa Orym turned his head by creaking degrees, eyes and mouth in flat lines. “An exorcism, Wife? Really?”

“It was worth a shot,” she grumbled, staring petulantly at the egg.

Welp. We had reached the point of desperation. That much was obvious.

Since I had no other ideas, I suggested, “How about we make camp here tonight? It’s getting late, and this area offers the only clear air to breathe.”

“We might as well.” Theon rammed his sword back into its sheath. “I don’t have any better ideas.”

“Besides,” Ara grumbled, “I’m hungry.”

I was too, honestly. Something hot and roasted over a campfire sounded grand to me.

Theon turned, calling out to the rest of our party to camp here for the night. People started off-loading the wagons, pulling out sleeping bags, firewood, cooking supplies, and whatnot.

We hadn’t any trust for this land, what with the miasma and all, so we’d brought everything in with us. Not only firewood, but also water. Turned out to have been a good decision, as there was no clean water anywhere to be found here. We were rather low on it compared to when we’d started out, but we had enough to get us back home. Assuming we didn’t spend more than two days figuring out how to get this miasma to stop and the eggs to hatch. I wasn’t going to worry about it just yet.

People put the wagons between us and the skeleton like it was a protective barrier. I mean, I didn’t blame them for not wanting to get too close—that did feel wrong on multiple levels—but the visual amused me.

I helped out with camp chores where I could, which mostly meant I set my bedroll and Theon’s side by side. I fed the wolves, too, as they were acting all whiny and needy. No matter how big and scary they were, puppies were just puppies.

That done, I settled in to eat dinner with my family. We had baked potatoes in the coals, smoked steaks, and flower wine. Easy things to make over a campfire, basically. The flower wine wasn’t particularly strong, but I was also tired after traveling over such rugged terrain the past few days. Not to mention all the using magic and singing. A cup in, I felt myself listing, fetching up against Theon’s shoulder.

He reached up with a hand, stroking my hair. “Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“I am too. But at least we found the source.”

“I’m really glad for that. I would have hated for this trip to be in vain.”

“Agreed. Although we now have a puzzle on our hands we must somehow solve.”

I sighed. I had not, needless to say, ever taken a dragonology course in my lifetime. College really had been a waste of time in many ways.

Gren came in closer to the fire to get another serving of potato, then lingered to smother it in butter, salt, pepper, and the smoked steak bits. He said without segue, “Heat will do it, I bet.”

Some part of my brain came more awake. “Heat? Like incubation?”

Turning just enough to glance my way, he nodded. “If you think about it, makes sense. Dragons live and die by fire, after all. Of course heat would be vital to hatch their offspring. There’s no heat to be had here. It’s why the eggs never hatched.”

Man had a really good point there. I mean, I knew chickens and birds all used heat to hatch their young. Farmers had those heat lamps too. I couldn’t see why a dragon egg would be treated any differently.

“You say heat,” Shael murmured, slowly sitting up so that her leg brushed mine, “but not only do we have the fire going, look at what the wolves are doing.”

I leaned around Theon to see what she meant. Oh. The wolves were all over the eggs. They were jam-packed, like this massive dogpile, literally cuddling the eggs. It was an incredibly cute sight, really.

“Is that instinct?” Ara leaned backward to see around her uncle. “Must be. Huh, I’ve never seen wolves act like that, though.”

“Okay, but the dragonlings must be alive inside the eggs if the wolves are acting like that, right?” I looked from face to face, not sure if I’d leapt to conclusions I shouldn’t have. I knew the Fae had keener senses than a human did, but I wasn’t sure if their senses were on par with the wolves’ or not. “They either hear or smell something.”

“They’re alive,” Theon agreed with a confused cock of his head. “I thought you knew.”

“Uhhh, I thought we were going under the assumption they were? ’Cause the miasma is still going?” I had a feeling someone hadn’t thought something through. “Theon, did you think I could pick up on it?”

“Well, yeah?”

Clearly I needed to ask more questions of this man. He assumed I knew more than I did. “Look, I just see a big egg-shaped rock when I look at them. I sense nothing.”

“Ah. Sorry. We all could hear and smell living dragonlings in their eggs.”

Fae senses. Gah!

Very faintly, I heard something like a cracking sound. You know that sound when you break an egg to scramble? Something like that.

I knew I hadn’t misheard as every single person in the vicinity whipped their heads in that direction. I sat up, hand on Theon’s shoulder for balance.

“Was that an egg cracking open?” I demanded of anyone and everyone.

Two of the dire wolves whined and started licking the egg closest to the fire.

“That was an egg—” Theon started.

A large crack formed, the sound more like concrete breaking this time.

Well, what do you know. Heat really was the answer.

Dragon babies incoooooming!