Chapter Eighteen

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A gentle wind blew across the garden, making the leaves on the saplings shudder and the fruit bob on the vines. Two more months had passed, and the greenery was flourishing under Peacemaker's care. Fat tomatoes were beginning to turn ripe, lettuce grew in great green bushels, and peppers swelled at the ends of their stems.

Between the time spent tending the plants, Peacemaker had also begun moving rocks and laying gravel between the garden beds, creating a walkway for any dragons who came by. There had already been a few visitors here and there, wanting to see how things were coming along. It wouldn't be much longer before the private, secluded space would be bustling with dragons, and Peacemaker didn't mind that at all.

In the meantime, he and his friends spent many of their breaks in the garden, enjoying the oasis of life and color among the dull gray stone of the mountain. At the moment, they were all clustered in a warm patch of sunlight, watching Auklet deftly hooking her claws through several loops of colorful yarn.

"See, you go over, under, and through. Over, under, and through. And then when you get to the end, you're all done," she said, removing the weaving from the small wooden loom and holding it up. It was a perfect little tapestry, layered with neat rows of blue, green, yellow, and orange, like the sun setting over the ocean.

Peacemaker stared down at the loom in his own claws, trying to mimic what she had done. The result wasn't ideal, as his finished project looked more like a particularly colorful spiderweb.

Seeker was more successful, as her weaving at least remotely resembled Auklet's example, albeit a little more lumpy and uneven.

Cliff's work was the most disastrous. When he finally managed to untangle his talons from the mess of yarn, he ended up with an impenetrable knot that he then promptly set on fire in frustration.

"Ugh, that's it!" he growled, sweeping the ashes of his project away with his tail. "I'm sorry, Auklet, but I don't think this is for me."

"Don't get discouraged," Auklet said, "it takes a lot of practice."

"No! Please, no more!" he burst out. "I tried making the fishing nets, I tried the needlepoint, and I tried the crocheting – but this is just a step too far! It's just tangles and loops and knots and tangles and loops and knots, and if I have to look at it for one second longer, I am going to lose my mind!" He then flopped to the ground in a heap and covered himself with his wings.

"Jeez Cliff, take a breath," Seeker said.

Auklet chuckled, unfazed. "I didn't think this would be your thing," she said, "but I appreciate you giving it a try."

"Anytime," Cliff's voice mumbled from under one wing.

"Hey, I'm just as terrible as you, but you don't see me complaining," Peacemaker said, holding up his tangled creation.

"Oh, it's not terrible," Auklet replied charitably.

Seeker snorted. "Well, it's not as bad as Cliff's, at least."

"I heard that," Cliff said.

"It's only your first try," said Auklet, rolling up her own tapestry and tucking it away into the satchel slung across her shoulders. "With a little more practice, you'll be able to make all the same things that I do."

"I don't know about that," Peacemaker replied, pointing to his misshapen masterpiece. "I'd settle for making something that's slightly less of a disaster. I can't even wrap my head around the idea of being as good as you are."

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