Page 15 of Eliza's Cursed Dragon

Can you help him? My eyes pleaded.

The dragon lowered a wing and tilted to the right. He wanted me to climb on his back.

I swallowed.

Having cursed brothers had somewhat prepared me for magic, but I was still shocked by the creatures who had attacked us, my heart was bleeding for Caspian… Caspian.

He needed help and I was the only one who could give it to him. Me and the dragon it seemed.

He had saved us.

I needed to be brave now. Determinedly, I gathered my long cumbersome skirt, while still supporting Caspian’s weight in my arms and climbed onto the dragon’s back.

My other brothers were squawking in alarm, dancing around, flying, but they too must have sensed that this was our only chance to save Caspian.

The dragon waited until I was safely situated on his back. I slung Caspian’s still-lifeless long neck over my shoulder, shifted him so I held him pressed against my chest with one hand, while my other grabbed hold of one of the large scales, and my legs cramped around the dragon’s wide back.

The dragon’s head turned to me, green eyes questioned, Are you ready?

I nodded with all the bravery I didn’t feel and the giant wings began to flap up and down. Something shifted as we rose and I closed my eyes for a few seconds to calm my erratically beating heart.

I snuggled my chin against Caspian’s neck, sought the softness of his feathers, and prayed that the dragon knew what he was doing and that we would find help for my brother. I didn’t think I could bear losing him.

My other brothers flew beside us, calling to each other now and then and I hoped like I had done so many times before that they were at least able to communicate with each other that way.

Underneath us was the forest, so far below, it made me dizzy. But for just one second, I thought, This is what my brothers experience, every day, followed by a short rush of excitement that died very quickly in the presence of the injured Caspian in my arm. Still, just for that one moment, I felt free.

Soon the trees vanished and the small town being built came into view. The dragon banked and lowered, smoothly landing by a row of houses. His head nudged me to look at a large sign in a yard, Dr. Michael Pinkerton, DVM. Veterinarian.

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but doctor was pretty self-explanatory, the rest was gibberish to me, but for some reason I trusted the dragon and climbed off his back.

I hastened up the few steps to the door, not caring that it was in the middle of the night. While I rang the doorbell, a whooshing sound behind me stirred the air and my hair, telling me that the dragon was taking off.

The rest of my brothers gathered around me, as I pressed the bell for a second time.

“Yeah, yeah, hold your horses, I’m coming,” a grumpy male voice sounded out from within, followed by some stumping sounds making me think he had stumbled and tried to catch his balance.

“Do you know what time—” A man, clad in pajamas, ripped the door open. His breath was heavy from running down the stairs I noticed behind him. His words broke off abruptly when he saw me, pitifully holding out Caspian to him in my arms.

“Oh my, what do we have here?” he asked, producing a pair of round glasses from his pajama pockets and pushing them up high on his nose.

“Come on in, come in. Did you hit the poor fellow?”

Hesitantly, I followed over the threshold into a narrow hallway, and from there through another door on the right. He clicked a light on, illuminating a medical room with a silver examination table in the center. The table was too short for a human and I realized that this must be a doctor for animals. Many pictures of dogs, cats, horses, even a cow with thank-yous attached to them decorated one wall, bearing further evidence to my assumption.

“Put it on here.” He knocked on the metallic table once and my hackles rose because he was calling my brother it.

I tampered it down though, because I understood. I only had to take a look at his round features to see that he cared. He was a nice man and didn’t mean anything derogatory about Caspian. He just didn’t know any better.

“What—” The vet broke off when he realized ten more swans had followed us into the examination room, cramping the small space.

“Friends?” The vet smiled at me, but it was a bit uneasy.

“Michael, what is going on—” A lady, just as round as the doctor, appeared. Curlers decorated her gray hair. She too was dressed in pajamas, but wore a bathrobe over it.

“Oh my…” she repeated the doctor’s earlier words.

“You poor thing.” She came toward me, put a hand on my arm, “Come, let Mike work on the bird and I’ll get us some hot chocolate, okay?”

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