They hunted another cow, did some flying around the countryside, and Shamira spent a lot of time projecting behaviors into the young one’s head, trying to impart some sense of what was acceptable and what was not. The other dragon showed itself to be a good learner, albeit easily distracted by sudden movements and shiny things.
When they returned to the barn after several hours of frolicking, they found a group waiting for them. Shane had sent most of the house back into the field, either to secure Lacroix’s lands, police his own, or to hunt down Jonas. He, Clara, Tabitha, and Renata were here, as well as the Representative and her entire contingent of bodyguards. Several of the surrounding lords sent personnel to help guard this new treasure. Clyde Pritchard of Huntsville had shown up personally. There were also a number of strange vampires who seemed to be guarding a new arrival.
He was a tall, thin man with a hawk-like nose and eyes that were equally as sharp, despite the librarian-style spectacles he wore. Shamira sniffed as she came in the door, and noticed the man did not smell like a vampire, a were, or . . . or like anything she had ever sensed before. She looked around and saw that the hay nest was now littered with what appeared to be gold and assorted jewels.
The young dragon seemed to find it all very fascinating, though he gazed at the little pink bipeds suspiciously. The newcomer stared back, mesmerized like a kid in a toy store. Shamira got the younger beast to realize that it needed to sleep and that she would continue to protect it, so it climbed back into the nest. It spent some time pushing the precious metals into a pile and then curled around it before going back to sleep. Shamira shifted back.
“Huh,” she muttered. “I guess that part is true. Weird.” She slipped on a robe than Shane handed her. “Dragons really dig treasure?”
“All the tales that I have studied indicated it to be such, so I arranged for this small donation to be brought here,” the new man said.
“Small donation? You could pay off the national debt with what’s in that nest.”
“But that would hardly be as interesting,” the man replied. “So you are the infamous Shamira Stapleton of the house of Stapleton, current incarnation of Shadow Wing.” The man bowed gracefully. “It is indeed an honor.” When his head came back up, his gaze was instantly drawn back to the slumbering dragon. “How long does it sleep? Is it true that it was born telepathic? How –”
“Woah! Hold on there a second. I just met it for the first time yesterday. I’m having a bit of trouble adjust to BEING a dragon some of the time. I don’t know much more about the little critter than you do.”
“Of course. My apologies,” the man said. “It is just that I have spent my whole life researching the ancient world, and to actually see a dragon . . . it is like a real-life version of Jurassic Park.” He kissed her hand. “My name is Archimedes, and I am the historian, archivist, and librarian for the Tribunal.”
“Uhm, aren’t you supposed to not tell me your name? Admittedly it would be weird to call you guys Representative One and Representative Two –”
“I hold no official power on the Tribunal and simply act as its collective memory. I have no ability to make decisions or influence law, so it does no good to try and influence me.”
“Wait, you said your name is Archimedes? As in –”
“Yes,” he said, holding his finger to his lips. “Not at all like the carvings, am I?”
“Nope,” she said. She opened her mouth to ask what he was, but realized that might be impolite.
He smiled at her. “I see that the wisdom attributed you by my colleague has been well-placed,” he said.
“If there is anyone who can help us understand the Greater Dragons, it is Archimedes,” the Representative said demurely. “He has been on the Tribunal longer than any other.”
“You are too kind.” He turned back to Shamira. “Please indulge me and tell me everything you have learned.”
Shamira sat down and started to explain the bits and pieces she had picked up, though she did not know much past what had already been explained. “I don’t think he’s that old. I kind of got the impression he’s only been there for a few months. Are they supposed to grow that fast?”
“Dragons were supposed to reach maturity very quickly, which was good because they bred very slowly. Because so much information can be passed via telepathy, they absorb knowledge at an exponential rate. I believe that this also means that the thought style of the parent unit . . . in this case, you . . . makes a greater impact in these types of situations, or at least it has in other telepathic species such as the aquatic races.”
“I once wrote a thesis about how the entire final dragon war came about because of two schools of thought that were literally just that . . . schools of thought. Two mindsets brought about because of the telepathic communications of the alpha dragons that slowly diverged, much like your American political parties but without all the backstabbing.”
“I guess that makes sense, though it kind of scares the crap out of me. Anyway, he doesn’t have many memories. He broke out of his shell, but could not sense a mother or father. Just some weird biped that stuck him in a cell. I think Lacroix lost track that this is an intelligent creature, because he and Jonas treated it like a dog. They punished it whenever it did something they didn’t like, which it did a lot because it wanted to escape. Finally they stuck that damn collar on, so it couldn’t escape when they wanted to punish it.” She growled, “I killed Lacroix way too quickly.”
“You did the right thing,” the Representative chided her.
“I will be staying here and observing,” Archimedes interjected. Please feel free to ask any question that comes to mind regardless of how insignificant you think it might be. This is a brave new world, Lady Shamira.”
“Could I get a copy of that thesis you were talking about? Unless you’d rather just give me the dummy version. And there are still Lesser Dragons, right? In South America and Africa? Can we get some of them to help?”
“The Lesser Dragons’ behaviors are well documented, and would probably be disinclined to help. They were effectively the lackeys for the Greater Dragons back in the day. Still, if we could convince some that this is an opportunity to bring back their larger ancestors without such negative behaviors, they might actually jump at the chance. It is worth a shot.”
“I shall ask the Tribunal to contact one of the flocks in South America,” the Representative said.
“Excellent,” interjected Tabitha. “Now ladies and gentlemen, I need to give Shamira a physical. Amongst the other miracles she has shown us, she is walking again after having her spine sawed in half, so I’m a little concerned about her physical state.”
Everyone gave them space, with Archimedes, Shane, and the Representative moving to examine the sleeping dragon (at a safe distance) while Tabitha and some of the members of the house moved into a trailer set up just inside the barn. It was full of all manner of gadgets and so forth.
“Some of it’s mine, some is Archimedes,” Tabitha explained. It’s to help monitor your health and the dragons’ health. Now strip and get up on the table.”
Shamira grinned. “Just like old times,” she said, then quickly complied. She got her back x-rayed, then she was gently poked and prodded. Then she was not-so-gently poked and prodded. There were still a few spots along her lower spine that were tender when pushed on directly, but Tabitha was not too concerned. Actually she was positively giddy.
“Hey, do you really need to still be feeling up my girl?” Clara asked as Tabitha traced the muscles of Shamira’s back.
“Hey, this is a lot more fun to do when she can actually feel it,” the redhead replied. “And yes, I’m seeing if the muscles have healed properly. I couldn’t do that very well when she couldn’t feel things down here,” she added, massaging the area just above the buttocks with her thumbs.
“Hey, leave her alone,” Shamira said happily. “She’s a doctor.”
Clara put her hands on Shamira’s shoulders and massaged them. “You’re just being a shameless hussie.”
“Mmmh hmm,” Shamira agreed. “Horrible me.” She looked up at Clara. “Hey, how’s Banshee anyway?”
Tabitha fielded that one. “Shane sent her down to Savannah to arrange cleanup and to get the house to be rebuilt for whoever the next lord is going to be. She wanted to go hunting for Jonas, but Shane seems to have other plans for that. Most of the house should be back in the next few days, ’cause Shane’s using the remote staff for most of the clean up. Oh, Bunny has taken over the prisoner transfer duties in your absence.”
“Good for her. Hey Clara, Bunny said something to me that would be kind of fun to arrange if the doms are up to it.”
“And that would be?”
“A rabbit hunt. Seems she’s got this idea about being chased through the woods, caught, and . . . well, you guess the rest.”
“Her twentieth birthday is coming up. I’ll bring it up with Shane, but I’m sure that talking him into it won’t be too difficult.” Clara smiled. “What about you? I mean,” she purred, “you ARE intact and capable of feeling . . . everything.”
“Of course, Mistress –” Shamira started to say, then the door came open and Archimedes poked his head inside.
“Miss Shamira, the dragon is waking up. It seems distressed.”
“Time to feed the baby,” she said irritably. She looked at Clara who had gotten that naughty-hungry look in her eyes, then forced a sigh from her lungs. Being a “mom” was going to suck.
——— ——————
A week later . . .
——— ——————
Turning into a dragon . . . cool, but complicated. Being the only one who can get a real dragon to eat, sleep, and not set the surrounding countryside on fire was complicated and annoying. Trying to corral one Greater Dragon who wanted to go play with a flock of Lesser Dragons? REALLY annoying.
*Everybody stop! * she projected in her most authoritarian voice. Apparently having the power of a full grown Moon Dragon had some advantages, because the dozen or so Lesser Dragons, each the size of large dog but smart as a human, all came to a complete stop and then tried to look inconspicuous. They had been playing what was quite possibly the noisiest, most destructive game of “tag” that she had ever seen played. There were paths through the woods around the farm where trees had literally been trampled by several tons of ancient reptile in pursuit of much nimbler prey.
There were a few saving graces that (mostly) overshadowed the proverbial headaches that the Lesser Dragons seemed to have a lot to contribute. First, they were able to discern that the young dragon was a boy, and he was slightly older physically than he seemed to be mentally due to his incarceration at the Lacroix estate, but was encouraged by his progress under Shamira’s care. It turned out that the Lesser Dragons had decided that after seven thousand years, it was okay to let bygones be bygones. They liked the idea of bringing back their larger cousins as long as it did not mean being a servant race. And the leader of the flock, a dragon named Katar, thought it best —