A Questionable Quest

Chapter 15... in which I give a potions lesson and jump off a tree

It wasn't the view -- though, in retrospect, I severely wished it had been -- that made me tear up. And it wasn't fear that had my heart beating fast, or my hands clenching.

It was anger.

Pure, white hot fury.

I might have popped the handle off my dagger, if Van hadn't carefully pulled it from my grip, and returned it to the sheath at my hip. He then placed a hand on my shoulder. "Are you..."

"I..." I wasn't quite sure what to say. One hand went to my rolling stomach. "I feel like I'm going to be sick."

SQUUEEEEEAAAAKKK. Dero scrabbled at the large, leathery wing that hung partially over the edge of the nest. I watched, unmoving, as he flapped and nudged the soft-scaled underbelly.

It was his quiet squeaks that unfroze me. I pulled myself from Van's grip and softly approached the baby dragon. He squeaked again, when I tried to pull him away, and dug in his claws. His little tongue lashed out and swiped at the other dragon's nose.

"Shhhhhh," I pulled harder, and the dragon went limp. His claws clung to my arms, and he buried his head into my shoulder, wings curled into his body like a protective wrap.

I turned to look at Van. He hadn't yet sheathed his sword, and was using it to poke at a sheet of... something. I joined him, as he crouched down for a closer look. One gloved hand reached out, and turned it over.

It was hard -- nearly hard as a rock -- and brown with speckles of yellow. And it was slightly curved.

I frowned. "That looks like a shell."

Van tightened his grip on his sword. "It does."

Dero's claws tightened on my arms. I winced, and shifted to relieve some of the pressure.

Without another word, Van looked up. Something in his gaze said "there's more". He pushed to his feet and strode to the large dragon's tail.

(If I were in my right mind, I might have wondered if Dero would someday grow to be as big as a large foal, like this dragon clearly was. As it went, I numbly recognized that this wasn't a very big dragon, and that was about it.)

Van dropped his sword, and hefted part of the dragon's limp wing to the side.

Underneath were three large eggs. Each was about the size of my head. Each was brown, speckled with a different color (red for one, blue for another, and yet green from another). Each was missing the top half of the shell, and a red-orangish goopy substance dripped slowly to the sticks on the floor of the nest.

I sucked in a breath. Van stood. His face showed no emotion other than intense focus, but his hands clenched so tightly they might have ripped his leather gloves in two.

"Who," his voice was controlled -- calm, even -- but I could see the fire flash in his eyes, "would do such a thing?"

I knew exactly who would do such a thing.

Well, not who. But I knew why.

And not really why. But I kne-

Let's just say I had an idea. And it didn't reassure me in the slightest. "It's the eggshell membrane."

"What?"

"The best way to emulate an aspect of a creature is to use something from their infants," I explained, my eyes glued to the dripping, dragonless eggs. Van, however, watched me. "Unicorn fur, for example, can help reverse poison if taken from a three-day-old foal. And... and you use newborn bloodhound fur in a stone guardian reanimation potion." I felt my ears redden. Then my cheeks. My hands, which still clenched around the baby dragon in my arms, tensed ever-so-slightly.