Heatwave

Part 2

Wind whipped my tangled hair and brushed past my red cheeks damply. Cool, spring air filling my lungs as I huffed and plastered my jeans to the front of my legs as I raced forward.

A clan of dull colored leaf-dragons skittered off a rickety wooden handrail back into the trees as I ran past. My flat feet pounding the dry dirt left little clouds of brown haze around my ankles while I loped. Today is the day my older brother is coming home from his academy training and I had been jittery with excitement since my feet first hit the floor in the morning.

Pale green light flashed through the thick canopy of trees and gave way to unsettling shadows in the dark places of the timberland. Leaf-dragons are of the wild sort, too connected with the wildlife to care about the troubles of misunderstanding humans. Regardless of the fact they are roughly the size of a pillow and one of the moderately intelligent species of beast, they remain mostly disconnected.

There are, however, larger sorts deeper in the underbrush. Very rarely do dragons attack unprovoked because unlike dogs, cats and other companions of the previous centuries, dragons can communicate with humans as easily as humans can with each other. But the wild thumping of a running boy might sound briefly like an attacking predator, so I remained watchful of the shadows.

As the trees thinned and gave way to rolling hills of apartment complexes and suburb houses, I stumbled off the dirt path onto roughly paved sidewalks but continued to take dust with me for a few yards more.

I burst through the front door with the wind still in my hair and the sun still on my face. Dad was standing in the kitchen with a large mug of steaming tea in one hand and he smiled widely at me when I entered, "Why the hurry?" He asked, nodding his head sideways at me signaling to someone in the living room.

I sprinted the few feet down the entry hall and saw Darpik standing in the middle of the living room. He wore his school uniform, navy pants and a white dress shirt, but it was untucked and unkempt. I smiled ear to ear and slammed hard into my older brother, hugging him as we collided.

"I don't think he missed me very much." Darpik laughed.

"I only mailed you every day."

"And twice on Saturdays."

I laughed too, still holding tight to my brother.

Darpik peeled me off of him long enough for me to catch a glimpse of something bright orange ducking behind his back. I stepped back, "What's that?" I wondered excitedly, jealous of his lessons at the academy.

"Well little Eamon, meet Kip." Darpik introduced as the little orange dragon peaked around his shirt.

She was about the size of a loaf of bread; her scales were all dark, almost black but still mainly orange. She had huge, glossy red eyes and a little round jaw. Everything about her was entirely dull except the tip of her bright orange tail.

I struggled to contain a squeal.

"Hi Kip." I managed stupidly, beaming wildly.

Plenty of people aren't fazed a bit by dragons; they'll shrug like the creatures are hardly more than big lizards with wings, but not me. I'm completely enchanted by them, although I'll agree some are more exciting than others. Take Ironmark for example, the most I see of dragons in the everyday wildlife here are leaf-dragons and maybe a water-dragon or two if the tide is high enough.

But Kip is no leaf or water-dragon.

"She's a fire-dragon." Darpik explained, Kip blinked up at him.

"But she'll get roasted alive if a single thing in here gets charred." Mom warned hotly, raising her eye brows at the little beast.

"She's too young to sustain a flame, Mom," Darpik clarified, Kip hiccupped in argument but little more than white smoke filtered out of her nostrils.

Mom fidgeted and sighed unsettlingly, crossing her arms "If that's what they teach you at that school." One corner of her mouth smiled while the other remained stead-fast.

"How was it?" I demanded, my voice shrill and hyper.

"It was amazing," Darpik ruffled my wild blond hair, laughing through his nose. Kip climbed up the back of his white school shirt and watched me with her huge red eyes as we talked.

"Better have been, for what I gave them." Dad set his now empty mug on the counter, the damp tea tag sticking to the handle, and walked into the living room to sit, talking quietly with Mom.

"I got a scholarship," Darpik shrugged, brushing Kip's bright orange tail away from his nose as she clung to his raising shoulders.

"They got you." I interrupted, laughing at the struggling dance of Darpik's companion.

"You've always got me, Eamon."

"Got you for everything?" I asked slyly, beaming under the curious stare of my brother and the glossy stare of Kip.

"What's going on in your sinister little mind?" Darpik smiled, understanding. "Eamon and I are going out."