by Walter G. Esselman
The young dragon, Pavataro, heard the crackling fire. Smoke rolled across the ceiling of the cave, illuminated by the glowrocks embedded in it, casting shafts of color throughout the grey. The dragon walked around the corner. Before a small fire was a young boy with dark unkempt hair and bright orange eyes. The boy, Gideon, stuck the end of a sharpened spear in the fire for a moment and then took it out.
“I read in a book that if you put a stick in a fire you can harden it,” said Gideon. “Make it harder to break.”
“Um, Lunchmeat,” said Pavataro. “What’re you doing down here?”
“What are you doing down here?” replied Gideon.
“We should go back,” said Pavataro looking around nervously. “This place is not safe.”
“Really?” asked Gideon.
“You know that this is a path down to the bug caves,” said Pavataro. “If one of them comes along…”
“Underneath Dragon’s Hearth is a warren of tunnels filled with bugs of all sizes,” said Gideon. “Some are big, but others are not-so-big. The trick is not biting off more than you can chew.”
“And I’ve chewed a lot of bugs. We need to go back,” said Pavataro. “Your mother’s going to be worried.”
“My adoptive mother is one of the best hunters in the Hearth,” said Gideon. “She always brings food home.”
Gideon had been adopted by the dragon Miravalla when he was a baby and nursed on her milk, which had had some unintended consequences.
“If this is about earlier…” started Pavataro.
Gideon held up his spear and blew out a small fire on it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Those guys are idiots,” said Pavataro.
“How many people have you told that you are afraid to fly?” asked Gideon.
“N…no one but you,” gulped Pavataro.
“Do you know how many people I’ve told?” asked Gideon.
Pavataro froze in place. His mouth started to open but he could not speak. If word got out that he was afraid to fly, he’d be a laughingstock. He’d get teased worse than Gideon.
“No one,” said Gideon slowly and Pavataro deflated as he breathed out.
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” asked Gideon. “To cover your butt.”
“No,” said Pavataro too quickly. “I…I was worried about you. Um, we should really go.”
“They said I was like a baby bird waiting for food,” said Gideon through gritted teeth.
“It was stupid…” started Pavataro.
“You laughed too,” said Gideon. “And you still call me by my schoolyard nickname.”
“Just for fun,” said Pavataro.
“It wasn’t fun when they were teasing me,” said Gideon. “So now I hunt.”
“Why do you have to hunt? Not everyone hunts,” said Pavataro.
“Right, me and the old dragons whose flames have turned to smoke,” said Gideon.
“It…you still can’t go down there,” said Pavataro. “You’ll get killed.”
“Miravalla risks her neck for me and the rest of the clan,” said Gideon. “The Clan of Embers. My clan. They gave me a name.”
Gideon stood up proud and strong, raising his spear.
“I am Miragideon,” he shouted, and then he looked at the odd look on Pavataro’s face. “What?”
“Do you mean to be standing in the fire?” asked Pavataro, looking at Gideon’s leg being consumed in flames.
“Yikes!” cried Gideon, ruining the heroic moment.
“My mom’s going to kill me,” said Gideon as he and Pavataro moved deeper into the bug caves.
“You’re just lucky that you didn’t get hurt,” said Pavataro. “Or I’d be dragging you back home like a lost kitten.”
“Oh that. Well, it is nice being immune to fire, especially when the potatoes are done” said Gideon, dismissively. “No, what I’m really worried about is these pants. Mom bought them special for me.”
“Maybe you’ll get lucky and die down here,” said Pavataro.
“Hopefully,” sighed Gideon.
A skittering noise came from the caves ahead and Gideon and Pavataro froze. Crouching low, Gideon pointed his spear toward the dimly lit cave. No sound followed the first one.
“I really think we should go,” said Pavataro, almost pleading.
Slowly, Gideon moved into the next part of the cave system.
“Fine, Lunchmeat,” grumbled Pavataro. “Ignore me.”
After vacillating for a moment, the young dragon followed with a sour expression. There were not many glowrocks set into the ceiling. And the few there were did not give off much light. Gideon stopped near the middle of the cave.
“Maybe it was underground water?” murmured Pavataro.
Something huge hit them, sending them sprawling in opposite directions. Gideon skidded across the floor and lost his spear. He dug his fingers in the dirt, stopping his momentum. Getting his feet underneath him, he dived for the spear. Picking it up, he barely had time to register the shape coming towards him. He held up the spear lengthwise and giant mandibles bit it in half.
Falling back, Gideon saw the bug before them as it reared up on fifty legs and hissed. The beast was nearly twelve feet long. The bug dived for him and Gideon jumped aside whacking it with one of the spear pieces. Turning, he jabbed with the spear end now only two feet long.
The bug suddenly cried out and turned to see Pavataro biting it in the tail. With a sharp stab of the spear, Gideon hit the bug in the thorax but the point just glanced off.
“It’s armored too!” cried out Gideon.
“You sure know how to pick them!” growled Pavataro.
The bug whipped around and twenty legs picked up Pavataro and threw him across the room. Gideon rushed in and, using the bug’s legs like a ladder, shot up the side of the monster. He stabbed at its neck and a sickly green ochre came from the wound. The bug swung its head and the side of its pincer caught Gideon, sending him sprawling.
Bumping across the ground, Gideon came to a halt. He was still holding the shortened spear. Slowly, the boy started to rise but his legs buckled. His knees hit the ground painfully. Looking up, he did not see the bug. Grimacing in pain, he rose up slowly.
“Lunchmeat?” called out Pavataro from the far side of the cave. “You dead yet?”
“Not yet,” replied Gideon.
“Pity,” muttered Pavataro. “Where is it?”
“Dunno,” said Gideon, and then he saw Pavataro’s face turning to shock. “Pav?”
The bug erupted from the ground behind Gideon. Grabbing the boy with its pincers, the bug threw Gideon in the air. He spun until he began to fall right into the bug’s waiting mouth.
“Snailburgers,” said Gideon. He brought up the shortened spear in front of him holding it lengthwise with both hands. The bug snapped at Gideon as he dropped into its mouth. The pointy end of the spear dug in, wedging its mouth partially open and driving right through the bug’s brain pan. Gideon’s legs swung underneath him as he hung from the spear like it was branch on a tree.
A mad grin came across his face. He wasn’t dead.
Something grabbed his boot and tugged him downward quickly. Tentacles from inside the bug’s throat slithered around his boot. The boot started to smolder filling the bug’s mouth with the smell of burning leather.
“Ow, Ow, Ow!” cried Gideon. “Pav! Help!”
Pavataro ran over and looked through the bugs long, pointy teeth like bars on a cell. Inside its mouth, Gideon tried to pull his feet up but to no avail.
“Hey, the scrum is still alive,” said Pavataro, conversationally.
“Oh, you mean the tentacles that are trying to eat me?” demanded Gideon, sarcastically.
“Yeah, those. That’s the bit that helps digest the bug’s food, and it tastes delicious. Smooth and spicy going down!”
“And it’s trying to digest me!” cried out Gideon. “Get me outta here you big idiot!”
“Oh, sure,” said Pavataro as he walked off. “That would probably be a good thing.”
Gideon felt a burning sensation now inside his boot. He squirmed against it but the tentacles held him fast sending his heart rate soaring.
“Pav?” said Gideon but there was no answer. Oh-oh, he thought. “Just kidding about the idiot thing.” There was no sound. His ankle was really starting to hurt. “Pav?” Gideon tried to pull himself higher and there was a crackling noise from the stick. He dipped just a bit. “Snail burgers.”
A shadow shot toward the bug’s teeth and something hit it hard. The pieces of tooth shattered inward making Gideon flinch, and Pavataro pulled back the rock in his hand to hit the teeth again. Breaking a hole in the bug’s mouth, he reached in and grabbed Gideon. The boy came forward a little bit but then stopped.
“The tentacles,” said Gideon in a panicked voice.
“I know,” said Pavataro, thinking.
“Hurry!” said Gideon.
“You sure you’re resistant to fire?” asked Pavataro.
“Um, why?” asked Gideon.
Pavataro let out a bright flame that filled the inside of the bug’s mouth. The tentacles shriveled up and Pavataro pulled Gideon out of the fire. The boy hit the ground and rolled to smother out the flames. When the fire was out, he looked down at himself. The scraps of clothes that had survived the fire were now very dirty.
“My Mom’s going to kill me,” said Gideon.
Pavataro plucked a cooked tentacle off Gideon’s boot and ate it.
“Yum, victory never tasted so good,” grinned Pavataro.
“Miragideon!” cried out a panicked voice from the tunnels. “Gideon!”
“Mom!” called out Gideon.
Gideon’s adopted mother, Miravalla, ran into the cave. The large red dragon dropped next to Gideon nudging him with her nose.
“Are you okay?” asked Miravalla, desperately. She got up and practically danced around the boy checking for injuries.
“I’m fine, Mom,” said Gideon.
“Oh, thank the Goddess,” said Miravalla as she carefully picked up her boy. He struggled some but not too hard.
“Mom!” whined Gideon.
“He’s fine,” said Pavataro when Miravalla whirled on him.
“And you!” snapped Miravalla. “You should be ashamed of yourself. You and those boys teasing him and now see where he is.”
“Mom!” said Gideon with more force this time. He struggled out of Miravalla’s arms and she let him down. For a moment, he wobbled a bit but then he held his own. “Pav wasn’t one of the boys teasing me.”
“He wasn’t,” asked Miravalla, looking carefully at her son. Behind her, Pavataro looked at him in surprise.
“And look at the damn big bug we caught,” grinned Gideon, pointing at the bug. Miravalla took a moment to look over at the creature half out of the cave floor. The end of Gideon’s sharp stick stuck out of the top of its head. A little smoke wafted up out of its mouth.
“That is a big bug,” agreed Miravalla.
Gideon walked over to Pavataro and slapped him on the back.
“And we caught it,” grinned Gideon.
“You know I’m going to ground you until you’re eighty,” said Miravalla.
“I know, Mom,” said Gideon, but he did not lose his smile.
© 2010 Walter G. Esselman
Original fiction debuting at Residential Aliens.
Artwork © 2010 Lance Red
Tags: fantasy, short story, Walter G. Esselman
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