Dragon's Song Read online

  Dragon’s Song

  by Emily Martha Sorensen

  Copyright © 2018 Emily Martha Sorensen

  Cover art by Eva Urbaníková

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: Sums

  Chapter 2: She

  Chapter 3: Schoolwork

  Chapter 4: Studying

  Chapter 5: Solved

  Chapter 6: Surprise

  Chapter 7: Suitable

  Chapter 8: Shrill

  Chapter 9: Specimens

  Chapter 10: Special

  Chapter 11: Son

  Chapter 1: Sums

  The newest dragon egg was now in a cage beside Violet’s. Rose eyed the silent egg as her son and the other Deinonychus antirrhopus child played together, leaping on top of each other and biting each other’s tails.

  A telepathic squabble broke out between the two.

  Violet’s tail looked like prey! Virgil would pounce on it!

  Violet’s tail was not prey! She was scared of Virgil’s pouncing! She would smack him in the face with it!

  Whack!

  Rose chuckled. It was amazing just how easily those two could be entertained by the simplest of games. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised; they were only five months old and three months old, after all.

  Whack! Virgil would hit Violet in the face with his tail, too!

  Wham! Violet liked playing tail face!

  Thwack! Virgil liked playing tail face, too!

  As the two merrily continued their game, Rose found her mind and her eyes wandering over to the mysterious silent egg.

  You woke up a few weeks ago, she thought, but unlike the other three who have awakened, you did not bond with a parent immediately, nor even seem that interested in doing so. Who are you? What sort of person are you?

  It was a question Rose had wondered many times while in the presence of the egg, but, as always, there was no response. The tiny female in the egg had woken up once while Rose had been here, but she had left behind only a feathery impression of hunger before her consciousness had drifted off again.

  Which was another fascinating question Rose badly wanted the answer to: Did dragons in the egg feel hunger? Theoretically they shouldn’t, since they should have all of the nutrients they needed until hatching, but Virgil had made vague references to hunger a few times while in the egg, which seemed to imply that eggbound fetuses might be familiar with the sensation.

  Then again, those references from him might have only been an echo of his ancestors’ memories. Such secondhand experiences might have taught him to remember how the sensation felt, even if he had not yet experienced it personally.

  That was one thing that was deeply confusing about raising a member of a telepathic species. Sometimes she wondered how much he had learned by himself, and how much he had learned from his ancestors’ memories.

  She hoped there weren’t essential pieces of knowledge that Deinonychus antirrhopus society had led parents to hide from their very young children until they were older.

  She hoped he wasn’t missing core memories that would be necessary for him developmentally.

  There were no adults left of his species. There were only a few hundred eggs scattered across the country, and it wasn’t even guaranteed that all of them would hatch in the same generation. While Virgil could pluck Rose’s memories out of her head, whether or not she wanted him to, that did not mean she’d have all the knowledge he would need as he grew into adulthood.

  There was a feathery impression of stirring, and a wispy impression of hunger. Rose’s head turned immediately to the egg in the cage beside Violet’s, but nothing more happened.

  She sighed.

  A terrible scream shrieked from Violet’s cage.

  Virgil had bitten Violet’s tail! Violet was very sad! Violet’s tail hurt! Violet’s tail had been bitten!

  Rose spun around in intense frustration. “Virgil! No biting!”

  But Violet’s tail had looked like prey. Virgil wanted to hunt prey. Virgil would pounce again!

  Violet let out another blood-curdling shriek.

  “Virgil!” Rose shouted. “Stop it!”

  Virgil sulked and drew back. His mother was thinking that if he didn’t stop, he’d have to go home right now. His mother was mean. He wanted to play tail face again.

  “Yes,” Rose said with annoyance. “Tail face is fine.”

  Virgil would hit Violet in the face with his tail! Virgil was hitting Violet in the face with his tail! Virgil thought it was funny!

  Violet thought Virgil was mean for biting her tail! Violet didn’t want to play anymore! Violet thought the tail in the face was funny. Violet was going to hit Virgil in the face with her tail, too! Violet was hitting Virgil in the face with her tail!

  Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The telepathic equivalent of mischievous giggles rose up as the infants went back to being amused with each other.

  Rose sighed and checked her wristwatch. She’d promised Henry they’d stay out of the apartment for at least two hours after he got home from class, which would hopefully give him enough time to study for the huge test he had next week. This had meant taking Virgil with her to her own classes, which had proven to be a disaster.

  My notes from today’s lectures were abominable, Rose thought in deep frustration. I scarcely managed to take in half of what the professor said. And I have two of my own tests the day after Henry’s. I understand that his grades represent our possible future income, while mine do not, but . . .

  Rose had always prided herself on her extraordinary grades. And more than that, she knew that having the best possible grades would be necessary for her to continue into graduate school to acquire the credentials she would need to go into paleontology.

  But Henry’s academic success was, unfortunately, even more important than that. If he failed any of his classes, it would take him longer to graduate, and the worse his grades were, the less likely it would become that he would find his way into a job that paid well. He had already failed two of his classes last semester, in fact, and was now retaking both of them.

  This was a detail that Rose had only just learned last night. Henry had not felt the need to tell her about his two failed classes when he’d gotten the news. She’d had quite a struggle to control her temper when he’d finally informed her of that rather crucial detail last night.

  After all, for crying out loud! Rose thought, her indignation rising again. I was able to keep up my grades during our first few months of caring for Virgil! This despite the fact that I have a much longer walk to school, Henry insists that I do all the cooking, and we take equal turns with Virgil!

  Virgil was going to play leg face! Leg face would be fun!

  Rose barely spared a glance at the roughhousing in the cage beside her. Would it have killed him to at least inform me that he was struggling academically? I thought we had fixed this problem of him keeping secrets from me after he gave me control over the budget!

  Henry was, she had learned recently, appalling in his mathematical skill. She’d learned a few weeks ago that all the time she’d thought he was spending on the budget, he had actually been spending drawing.

  Which was fine as far as it went. The incomprehensible mess of their finance book had been resolved when she had offered to take control of the budget, a duty he had been more than glad to relinquish.

  But it turned out that her husband’s ghastly skill at sums was extending to two of his college classes, as well. According to Henry, he needed both of those classes to graduate with his degree in biology, which made them nonnegotiable nightmares for him to navigate. He had, apparently, decided it would be wise to take both of those classes at once to get them over with.

  And then Virgil had come in
to their lives early in the last semester, throwing their lives askew and disrupting everything.

  It wasn’t that Rose resented their son’s awakening . . . but the timing had hardly been ideal. Couldn’t the boy have waited until after Henry had finished his college education, at least?

  But then again, if Virgil had taken longer, Henry might have found somebody else he wanted to marry, and perhaps wound up with a human infant to disrupt his schoolwork. It was only due to Virgil’s timing that she and Henry had even met.

  Rose sighed. Life, it seemed, was hardly ever convenient. Even when one thought they had their life all planned out, there were always new wrinkles standing in one’s way.

  Ow ow OWWWW! Violet didn’t like claw face!

  Rose jerked out of her thoughts and saw the wicked hooked claw of her son’s back leg slashing at Violet’s cheek. One of the blue scales on her cheek looked loose, and there was a line of blood welling up from it.

  “VIRGIL!” she shouted, whamming the palm of her hand against the bars of the cage. “Stop that RIGHT NOW!”

  Violet was sad! Violet was hurting! Violet was going to cry!

  An unearthly, full-volume howl rose up from the cage. Virgil jerked back, releasing shock and startlement, and then he started screaming, as well.

  Rose balled her fists up and clenched them over her eyes. It was all she could do to keep from screaming herself.

  But she managed to control her temper, and focusing on soothing thoughts directed at the baby dragons caused them both to calm down again.

  Virgil rolled across the floor of the cage, whapping his tail back and forth. He looked up at his mother.

  That was a fun game. Virgil wanted to play claw face again.

  Rose stared at him in exasperation.

  We’re going home now, she decided. Henry can study at the library instead.

  Chapter 2: She

  On the way back from apologizing to an irate zookeeper over the state of Violet’s cheek, Rose pushed the pram back to the cage to allow her son the chance to say goodbye to his friend before they went home.

  This proved to be a mistake.

  Virgil wanted to go back in the cage! Virgil wanted to go back in the cage to play!

  “Say goodbye,” Rose said sternly. “That’s what you’re here for. You did not behave, so we’re going home early.”

  Virgil was very sad! Virgil wanted to cry!

  “Don’t cry,” Rose said sharply. “If you cry, we’re going to leave right now.”

  Virgil was sad. Virgil was sulking. Virgil wanted to stay. Virgil wanted to go in the cage. Virgil wanted to play!

  Another zookeeper was already in Violet’s cage, treating her wound. As he finished, he cut a strip of Band-Aid of the right size and affixed it to her loose scale to hold it in place.

  Rose watched with fascination. That brand of bandage had only just come out last year, and she’d never seen one in use before. The flesh-colored sticky disposable bandage looked silly on top of Violet’s bright blue scales, but she could imagine how useful it might be with human children.

  Virgil wriggled around in his pram and popped his head up through the blankets. Virgil had said hello to Violet. Could Virgil play with her now?

  Rose ignored the audacious request, having no interest in the brazen ploy to get his own way despite what she had just told him. “Say goodbye, Virgil. Then we’ll go home.”

  Virgil didn’t want to go home! Virgil wanted to play with Violet! Virgil wanted to plaaaaaaaaaay!

  “Your bucket is at home,” Rose reminded him.

  Oh. Virgil wanted to play with his bucket. Virgil wanted to play with his bucket now! Virgil wanted to go home!

  “Say goodbye,” Rose reminded him. “It’s polite.”

  Virgil was saying goodbye to Violet! Virgil hoped to play claw face again soon!

  “No!” the zookeeper and Rose said simultaneously.

  The little blue dragon seemed uninterested in the farewell. She was busy trying to pry the strip of Band-Aid off with her front claw.

  There was something funny on Violet’s face. Why was there something funny on Violet’s face? Violet didn’t like this thing on her face. Violet wanted to get it off! Off! Off!

  “Keep it on,” the zookeeper said, swatting her claws away and holding his hand over the Band-Aid. “Your scale is loose. If we don’t hold it on, it’ll hurt you a lot.”

  Violet held still from her wriggling. She would be good. She wouldn’t pull it off. She didn’t want to hurt.

  “Good,” the zookeeper said, releasing her.

  What was this sticky thing on Violet’s face? Violet wanted it off! Off! Off!

  Rose snorted with laughter as she turned the pram away from the cage. It seemed Virgil wasn’t the only infant who behaved so terribly irrationally.

  The flow of crowds was such that they always ebbed when one stopped at an exhibit and swelled when one most wanted to navigate through them, and such was the case as Rose sighed and waited for a stream of loud human children to walk past.

  Virgil poked his head out of the pram to watch the parade of unfamiliar minds, and two of the human children stopped to poke their fingers at Virgil.

  “Stop that!” Rose said sharply.

  Both of the children persisted, and Virgil playfully batted at one of them with his back leg with the hooked claw.

  “No!” Rose snapped, diving forward to seize the leg. All she needed was for someone’s human child to be injured by her son today. Goodness knew what might result from that. The last thing her son’s species needed was for humans to decide they were dangerous and force all Deinonychus antirrhopus infants to stay locked in cages.

  Her temper in a rather frayed state, Rose scolded the two human children soundly, and they ran off to their mother crying about the mean lady. Their mother looked unsympathetic and gave them both a scolding about poking other people’s pets.

  Rose tried very hard not to let the word “pet” bother her. But nevertheless, it was all she could do to restrain the metaphorical steam rising from her ears as she waited for that bothersome family to continue on their way.

  I did, at least, refrain from speaking, she told herself. The last time she had corrected a wrongheaded woman at the zoo, it had resulted in the woman deciding to adopt a dragon herself. Rose was still trying to convince herself that Bessie being a mother to a baby dragon wasn’t a large catastrophe.

  It wasn’t exactly that she was concerned that Bessie and her husband Frank would not treat their son as intelligent. They seemed to be eager to do that much, at least. And after hearing Bessie grandly lecture Director Campbell about dragon’s rights and the need for them, Rose had come to believe that the woman would be an asset to her son’s species. But the two times Rose had run into the woman since then had been so irritating.

  They had no human children. Philomel was still unhatched. And yet, Bessie had felt the need to give Rose very supercilious advice about taking care of Virgil.

  With that tone.

  That condescending, overbearing, patronizing, haughty, and imperious tone.

  Mere months ago, Rose had wanted desperately to not be the only mother to a baby dragon in New York City. Now, she wanted there to be another mother to a baby dragon whom she could stand to be around.

  Virgil peeked his head out of the pram, looking up at her with large and innocent eyes. It would have been adorable if his sharp teeth hadn’t glinted from within his open mouth.

  He wondered why his mother didn’t just talk to that other baby’s parents.

  “Violet only has a father, Virgil,” Rose told her son patiently. “Mr. Jones isn’t married. Unless he is planning to change that in the near future, Violet has no mother.”

  No, not Violet’s parents! That other baby’s parents!

  “I’m not fond of Philomel’s parents.”

  No, not Crimson’s parents! That other baby’s parents!

  “You mean the egg in the cage next to Violet?” Rose asked. “That
egg doesn’t have parents, Virgil. She hasn’t even woken up all the way.”

  Virgil was confused. Why was Virgil’s mother saying that? That baby had parents. They came to see her every day.

  Rose sucked in her breath. “What?”

  Virgil knew because Violet knew because Violet was there whenever they came. Violet knew, right?

  Virgil’s tail lashed confidently as he scrambled up on top of the pram and looked at Violet.

  Violet wriggled out of the zookeeper’s grip, rolled across the floor of the cage, and tried to claw at the Band-Aid on her cheek.

  Uh huh. Violet knew that baby’s parents. They had walked by Violet’s cage after meeting their daughter, so she’d seen their memories of meeting the egg then. They were really quiet people. Violet had thought everyone knew about them. They came every day.

  Rose’s head jerked up to look at the zookeeper.

  “That’s . . . news to me, too,” he said slowly. “When did this happen?”

  Violet didn’t remember. Oh, Violet remembered. Virgil was remembering for her. Virgil’s mother had been mad at Crimson’s mother while Violet had told Virgil about it happening.

  Rose swallowed. Weeks ago. That means it was weeks ago. Or one week, at the very least. The last time I saw Bessie was eight days ago.

  “Who in the world?” the zookeeper muttered.

  Rose shared the man’s sentiment. It was baffling.

  Who were the fourth baby’s parents, and why hadn’t they said anything?

  Chapter 3: Schoolwork

  Forty minutes later, Rose burst through the door with Virgil under one arm and the handle of the pram she had dragged upstairs hooked around her other.

  “Rose!” Henry protested, glancing at his wristwatch and looking up from a notebook he had been writing in. “You weren’t supposed to be back for another hour!”

  It was hardly a delightful welcome, but Rose wrestled the pram through the door and released Virgil without complaining at the words. Henry was, after all, justified in being cranky at his study time being interrupted.