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A Tale of Two Dragons
G.A. Aiken
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“I don’t like this,” his brother told him as they walked down the stairs. “You don’t like anything. I’ve heard you complain about the air.” “It irritates me when it whistles.”
“She wasn’t part of it,” Addolgar cut in. “And she saved my life.” “Who cares about your life?” Bercelak demanded. Addolgar was silent for a moment before he replied, “I do.” Braith studied the dragon who sat next to her. “You had to think about that reply?” “Wanted to make sure it wasn’t a trick question, didn’t I?”
“Of course you don’t trust Braith. You don’t trust anybody,” Ghleanna reminded their brother. “You don’t trust the air.” “Because it tends to become unseasonably chilly when I’d prefer it to be warm. It’s as if it does it on purpose.”
“As soon as they grow that genitalia, intelligence goes right out the window and we’re left with this thing that just wants to stick it in any hole.”
“Braith opened her eyes and screamed at what hovered above her, “Gods! Death comes for me!” The horrifying face of death curled its lip at her and growled, “Well, that’s charmin’.” Death sat back in its chair, hands resting on its knees. “This face is not me fault, ya know?” Death looked off, thought a moment. Its finger traced one of the deep gouges across its jaw. “This one actually is kind of me fault.” She pointed at the other side of her face, where part of her chin was missing. “And this one. A bit of barney at the pub.” ... “That was not death,” he whispered. “That was our Great-Aunt Brigida.” “Brigida? Brigida the Foul?” He nodded. “I thought she was dead.” Addolgar shook his head and whispered, “She just won’t die.”
“Bercelak frowned. “Do we know you?” “I’m Bram,” the dragon said, appearing confused. “I stayed with your parents last summer.” “Oh.” Ghleanna glanced at them. “Right. Uh . . . Brogue.” “Bram.” “Right. Bram. Bram the . . . Friendly?” “Merciful.” “Of course!” Ghleanna smiled, patted his shoulder. “Bram the Merciful. My father speaks quite highly of you.” “Really? What did he say?” “Uh . . .”
“The fact that he still breathes offends me.”
“We’re not talking about you. You’re Braith of the Darkness. I’m Addolgar the Cheerful. I’ve earned this name, and you’re ruining it by being unreasonable.” “You throw me into a tree—” “That was for your own good.” “—have me attacked by your kin—” “You brought that on yourself.” “—and leave me alone with Brigida the Foul, of all She-dragons—” “She got away from us. Normally none of us would have done that. Not even to our worst enemy.” “—and I’m being unreasonable.” Addolgar nodded. “See? You do understand.”
“He shrugged. “You’re not going to like it, I’m afraid.” “Well . . . to be honest, I don’t like anything.”
“. “And I stole some oxen jerky out of Bercelak’s bag. He makes the best oxen jerky.” “Bercelak the Vengeful cooks?” “Aye. And he’s surprisingly good at it, too!”
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Book Keywords:
trust, humor, offended, forgetting-names, elderly, surprised, cooking, brothers, air, irritated, arguing, unreasonable, misunderstanding, dislike, untrusting, sibilings, awkward, ugly, easily-irritated, bad-news
