Dragon's Lost Love — an excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

Mergle

MERGLE HADN’T SEEN one of these before. It was shorter and rounder than the others, almost squishy. He stared at it in wonder, never having encountered anything so ugly.

Its skin was a sickly cream pink, with a thatch of yellow weeds sprouting from its head. Two tiny eyes, the color of a frigid lake, were sunken on each side of a snail-like protuberance at the center of its face.

The sight of the creature lurking in his garden revolted him. He wanted to flame it, char it to a decent shade, and scorch its skin into pleasant ruffles and ridges.

But Mergle didn’t. He was afraid to blow burning gas. He usually burped and gagged, and then the other dragons laughed at him. The girls always made fun of him. Perdie had asked him in front of the whole clan if he’d like to light her fire. He couldn’t even get up a spark. Embarrassed, he had run away to sulk in his hideaway, where he had buried all his treasure.

The stones and things he’d found were the only things he had that the others didn’t. Of course, they would have shunned him if they knew about his collection. They didn’t like anything from across the river. He wasn’t old enough to understand why, so he kept everything buried beneath the banana bush in the garden. Whenever he was upset, he would go there and spread out all the shiny things to play with.

The garden was a quiet place, isolated from the clan because it was so near the river and what lay beyond. None of the other dragons went there; they didn’t like being that close to the things that lived in the valley. Instead, they perched in their caves, fathers puffing smoke rings while the girls let out sweet fumes, waiting to be lit.

Mergle’s garden was in a thicket close enough to the water to hear the monotonous splashing. It was a perfect place to loll in the sun during the lazy months. There, he could rest easy, watching the forest, river, and land beyond. He sat for days watching butterflies hatch from the banana bush above his head. He’d spend hours watching clouds come and go over the hills surrounding the narrow valley.

It was quite by accident that he stumbled upon the place. In a blind rage a year earlier, he’d fled from his father, down the mountain and unwarily across the river. His father had arranged for him to attend a flame-in with one of the clan’s hottest girls. The thought of burning with “hot lips” had disgusted Mergle into panic. He’d wandered stupefied in the strange land of the valley until dawn. Horrified by the realization of where he was, he’d hidden out for weeks, trying to find his way back to the river.

One night, while retreating from a band of strange creatures, Mergle had come across the treasure. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was pretty, so he’d stuffed it into his brood pouch under his belly. The next day, he relocated the river and crossed it just below where the thicket opened in the forest. Completely exhausted from his vigil of escape, he staggered into the open area and slept for a fortnight.

Later, Mergle saw the worth of having a personal sanctuary and buried his treasure there. Before heading home, he ate heartily from the purple banana bush that concealed his pretty baubles.

When he finally returned to his father after months of absence, his father gushed fire with happiness. He said he was proud of his son. Apparently, he thought Mergle had spent time scorching the hills with some girl. As usual, Mergle blushed a lurid green. From then on, though, his father didn’t force the girls on him, assuming Mergle was sparking his own relationships. That made things a little easier, but was the main reason Mergle was caught unaware by Perdie the following year.

He was drinking at the spring under the cliff when she sidled over to him. Several of her girlfriends clustered behind her sinuous tail. Her body was lushly thick and rough, the virgin scales glistening in the air. The pungent sweetness of methane hung around her like a cloak. Like an aphrodisiac, the scent watered Mergle’s eyes as he turned from the pool. Her swaggering torso made the scales of his spine stand erect. It was the first time any girl had made an open pass at him. He was speechless, scared silly, and stopped breathing for a second. The spark in his throat went out. She was so beautiful, and he knew he was such an awkward dragon.

The moments near her were a nightmare. Everyone was watching. Most of the clan had been at the pool, taking a morning drink, and others hurried over to see the virgin’s first fire. Even Mergle’s father was there, sternly waiting on a ledge.

CHAPTER TWO

Perdie

PERDIE’S SCALES SHIMMERED with potential, like unpolished gems waiting for their first light. She lounged by the clan’s spring, surrounded by her circle of still-unlit females. Though not yet aflame, Perdie was undeniably the most coveted young dragon in the clan. Her form was the most graceful, her scales the most lustrous, her potential flame promised to be the hottest. She exuded superiority as if only the right dragon could light her up!

As the young females chattered dreamily about flame-lighting, Perdie’s eyes darted to a solitary figure at the edge of the babbling water.

Mergle. The clan oddity. The dragon couldn’t even light his own flame.

“Watch this,” Perdie whispered to her friends, a mischievous glint in her eye. She rose, her movements fluid and purposeful, spread her satiny wings, and skip-flew across the lagoon towards Mergle. Her friends tittered in anticipation.

“Hey, Mergle,” Perdie called out, her voice syrupy. “Thinking about any flame-lighting soon? Oh, wait, you’d need a spark first, wouldn’t you?” She fluttered her eyescales mockingly, eliciting not just giggles but outright laughter that echoed across the water.

Mergle’s scales flushed a deep green as he looked up, his eyes wide with trepidation. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but only a weak sputter emerged. Perdie could hear the cackles as her friends erupted in laughter.

“Aww, your tongue twisted and tied? Or maybe you’re saving your voice for when you finally manage to light?” Perdie teased, but even as the words left her mouth, she felt the sting of her own cruelty, watching Mergle wither with shame. Because the truth was, every stammered word, every flustered look from Mergle sent a chill through her scales that no dragon should have caused. It made her angry, and she hated her reaction.

Perdie watched as Mergle struggled to escape, his face burnished with deep, unbearable humiliation. Her friends were still clucking raucously, congratulating her on another successful taunt, but Perdie barely heard them. Instead, she found herself wondering why Mergle’s put-down affected her so deeply. The thought of such a bungling dragon terrified her.