Children of the Gamma

chapter three || iii

[ word count : 2,847 ]

Dizzy grabs my jacket from the floor and rushes into the kitchen. She returns with it soaking wet, and drapes it over my shoulders.

"Is this supposed to keep me from igniting?" I say.

Dizzy makes a face at me, the kind mothers make to their children.

I go along with it, tucking it close around myself. Facing the doorway and the roiling flames, I take a deep breath. Plunge in.

The fires cluster closer to the walls now. Can the dragon extinguish its flames as easily as it can ignite them?

It must be trying to burn its way out of the building. I'm not sure how long this will take, but I don't intend to stick around to find out.

At first, I don't see the dragon.

Then, out of the flames, a streak of blue, crashing into the opposite wall. It screeches—not in pain, but in frustration. It flaps its wings to stay aloft, scraping thick claws against the wall. It lowers itself, tail lashing.

I can only watch in fascination for a few moments. Dizzy has always expressed interest and sympathy for the beasts of the Outermost, but never have I understood it until now.

It's a monster, but so much more than that. A creature limited in its power, and, maybe, its monstrousness.

I crouch, almost eye level with it, and whistle to get its attention.

Its diamond head swivels in my direction, pupils narrowing. A flick of its tail, a tentative rumble in its throat. The only motion, the only sound. My heart thunders in my chest.

"Hey, hey," I whisper. Because what else do I say? "You look upset. I get it."

The dragon turns its body in my direction, now fully facing me. Its shoulders are tense. It takes one cautious step toward me.

"You didn't want any of this," I say, keeping my voice low. I don't intend to be its next bonfire. The heat presses in on all sides. My hair is already damp with sweat, though most of it stems from utter terror. "You didn't ask to be brought here, did you?"

It comes a little closer, nostrils flaring. Sniffing me. Wondering if I'm flammable.

I talk through my nerves, try to calm myself. "Nobody asks to be born. Then again, if we knew what, you know, life was like...Earth would be a lot less crowded." I don't even know what I'm saying, and neither does the dragon. But the more I speak, the closer it gets...the stronger this feeling gets.

I have the distinct sensation of trying to open a door using only my voice. The door being the act of bringing the dragon closer.

I slide a step backward.

It shuffles two steps forward.

She.

Not it.

She.

Something in her face, maybe, convinces me that the dragon is female.

She creeps closer, her body low to the ground. It isn't as if she's stalking, but...exploring.

I am a mysterious new land, and she is a courageous European explorer from a thousand years ago.

She strengthens this comparison by coming even closer. So close I could reach out and touch her.