Page 3 of No Room at Dragon's Landing

I lost myself in the thoughts of what-ifs while fingering the dragon-scale necklace I wore. The imposter pendant was a replica, of course. No dragon on earth would give one of their scales for a silly necklace but also, as someone who had great reverence, respect, and knee-wobbling awe for dragons, I would never wear a real one.

That would be like worshipping wolves and wearing one of their skins.

I shuddered at the thought.

Dragons had been my obsession since I was a kid. My father was an avid book lover and read me a book every night without fail. With varying voices for each character, he brought stories to life. One night, he brought home a new book and, as he read about the dragon spreading his large, glimmering wings and using his fire and valor to rescue the princess from her keep, I slowly fell in love with the creatures.

That book and that night with my father was the beginning of a lifelong obsession that had, in the last year, turned into a career.

I didn’t have much hope for the book until I sent it to a few agents, trying my luck. I braced myself for negative feedback, or worse, no feedback at all but instead, received an offer from the first agent who read it. Months later, my first graphic novel about dragon lore and adventures with fire and treasures took flight.

And now, a few years later, number six held the top spot for middle-school books on the charts.

My book.

My love for dragons had hatched into something amazing.

If only my father had lived to see it.

The timer on my phone went off, letting me know it was time for the meeting. With no agenda or hint, I sat down at my desk nervously, gripping my cup of tea with more strength than necessary.

Zack was punctual so at least I could rely on that. The ringer for the video call began to resound and I answered immediately.

“Good afternoon!” he called out. Not surprising. Zack was one of those chipper, positive people. Lucky.

“Good afternoon,” I ground out, waiting for the punch line.

“Have you seen your rankings this morning? We could not have asked for a better response to your novel. It’s incredible.”

“It is. Thank you.” He had to have a different reason for calling me. Maybe the rankings weren’t good enough? Had I fumbled one of the interviews somehow? No. He said it was doing well. “What do you want?” I blurted out. Shit. I tended to do that. “I mean, what is this call regarding?”

Zack chuckled. He already knew about my shenanigans. This was why we had decided against in-person and live interviews and opted for written ones instead. My mouth haddirect access to my impulsive, intrusive thoughts and sometimes they didn’t allow me to intervene. “This is a good call, Boen. A really good one. You can relax. You’ve done nothing wrong, and the book is doing well.”

My shoulders relaxed. My jaw went slack. Sure, there were still unknowns about why he was calling me, but the reassurance did wonders. “Thanks.”

“The reason I wanted to talk to you was that since your newest book is doing so well and you’ve worked so hard on all the press and interviews, we wanted to present you with a gift. I wanted to give you something special.”

If it were flowers, surely they would already be here.

No packages had arrived.

“Thank you. It was a team effort. You, the publisher, we all made this happen.”

He nodded and pushed up his black-framed glasses. “But you wrote this masterpiece. I was wondering what I could get you that would mean something more than flowers or a new watch. So, I thought you might like what I decided on.” He reached over to his laptop and clicked a few times on his mouse. “There. I forwarded you the email. See what you think.”

I almost growled. He could just say the damned words. No need to dance around things. Cat and mouse was absolutely not my favorite game to play. Instead of complaining, I clicked on my email icon and saw his name at the top of my inbox.

Forward: Dragon’s Landing Festival Reservations Confirmation.

Sucking in a breath, I skimmed the body of the message. “You didn’t,” I murmured, clicking back to the ongoing video chat.

Zack’s grin lit up his face. “I did. It was actually perfect timing. The festival is this upcoming week. Everything is paid for.” My pause must’ve been longer than he expected. “Boen?You’ve talked about it so much. I can get a refund if you don’t want to attend.”

Holding up a hand for him to stop, I gathered my excitement. Visiting Dragon’s Landing was a dream of mine, but going to the annual festival where dragons and humans gathered together to celebrate and immerse themselves in the culture of winged shifters?

Zack couldn’t have picked a better gift.

“Zack, you’ve made my day, hell, maybe even my year and life. This is incredible. Bucket-list amazing. I’m speechless.”

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