Where Dragons Go to Die (The Commodore #1.2)
* This is the second installment for WHERE DRAGONS GO TO DIE, a serial that’s posted every Friday morning. You should read the first installment before this one. Please check back next week to find out what happens next!
“La lala la…” the Commodore loudly sang.
“Another hard day?” Iris asked.
“Aren’t they always?” She ran the pads of her fingers over the polished cherry wood. There was barely enough space for it, but it felt like a piece of her, like home. She’d have given it up, though, if they’d been able to find a larger cage for Iris. “What I wouldn’t give to be headed back to warm water. I’ve had more cold than I would have liked for a life time.”
“Then let us turn this boat around! Please!”
“You know we can’t do that,” she whispered, shoulders sinking. “Don’t you believe that I want to?” Her voice cracked on the words. “I want nothing more than to see the dragons out of their caves, you out of your cage, and to take this ship somewhere warm. Somewhere I can watch the sky, listen to the water lap against my ship, and only make decisions about where to head next. Nothing would be better than an end to my days of scratching skulls and terrorizing people. I’d like things to be simple.” She fell into her chair and closed her eyes, unable to stand looking at Iris. “If any of us want to see simple times again, we best hope that I acquire the bones needed for that asshole wizard.”
Iris rose from her perch. Her legs kicked forward awkwardly with each step; she’d never been much for walking. “How much time is left?”
“You know I don’t know. Not really.” The Commodore stroked a hand over the curves of her horns. She loved running her sharp nails lightly over the rough skin, but it was a comfort she rarely had the opportunity for. She couldn’t relax in front of the others, it was imperative that she remained in control of herself. “It can’t be much longer. You feel that, don’t you? The changing. It’s grown so intense I’d expect even the crew to notice it. I dread to think what they’d do if they discovered what they were fighting for.”
“Saving you?” Iris laughed.
“It’s not just me.”
“That’s how they’d see it. You know these people have no respect for the magical anymore, only fear. When they see magic, they see your scarred face.” She spit the words from her lips.
The Commodore winced. People had always feared her, but the scars had magnified their reactions. Cutting her face wasn’t exactly a choice she’d made, as much as a necessary part of her mission. The scars served their purpose well, gaining her respect among those she was dealing with in her quest for the bones. They had the added effect of paralyzing the average person with terror, which worked well enough for her cause. Fear would make a person jump to attention just as well as respect, often much faster.
“Their fear is of more than my face,” the Commodore said. “I know you prefer to blame me, but I’m keeping you safe, Iris. If they discovered how easily they could rid this world of magic they’d kill you and wear your purple feathers in their hair while they mounted your body to the front of this ship. They’d be perfectly content to be the only beings on this planet. You saw what happened when they captured you in the jungle.”
Iris turned her back to the Commodore and the memory of her imprisonment. Her pretty wings, awkward in the small space, pushed against the bars and tore free several of the dark feathers. They floated from the cage, like baby birds rushing to escape, but only made it as far as the polished cherry wood. The Commodore tucked them in her pocket and left the room, feeling more like a monster at her desk than on her throne.
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* This is the second installment for WHERE DRAGONS GO TO DIE, a serial that’s posted every Friday morning. You should read the first installment before this one. Please check back next week to find out what happens next!