“Oh, Rory’s. I forgot,” I said, thinking of my friend. My only friend. I looked at the game course and turned to my mother, mouth opening to ask. One look and my mouth closed on its own.
“Aww, Declan. Ye know ye can’t show your friend your game. We’ve talked about it, right?”
“But Rory won’t tell,” I said.
“Maybe not on purpose, but your friend Rory has a tendency to get excited, now doesn’t he?” she asked. It was true; Rory got kind of wordy when he got excited. He liked to tell people how much he knew, and he knew a lot. If a regular person were to say that magic wasn’t real and Rory had seen me do magic, well, nothing would be able to stop him from correcting that person, even if they were an adult. Especially if they were an adult.
Mother led me out of the barn and toward the restaurant. “Now get ready for the party. I have to take a trip, so Aunt Ash will be taking ye and ye’ll behave for your aunt now, won’t ye?”
“Of course he will,” Aunt Ash said, standing in the doorway. “But I wish you would rethink this trip, Maeve. I don’t like it at all.”
“Mama, you should listen to Aunt Ash,” I said, suddenly worried. “She knows things.”
“Aye lad, she does. But she doesn’t know everything. This is an important trip. Now let’s get ready.”
We got me set for the party, wrapped present in hand, and Mama kissed and hugged me goodbye. I never saw her again.
***
“What are ye working on, lad?” my aunt asked.
“Nothing, Aunt Ash. Just got tired of flying my dragon and running my dirt dude at the same time. I’m trying to get Draco to do it on his own.”
“Draco, is it?” she asked absently, her eyes locked on the kitten-sized flying dragon that was circling above my game course. “How is he flying then?”
“I copied some of your spells onto his wings,” I said, smiling at my dragon. My aunt’s head whipped around, her expression shocked.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, worried I would be banned from my game.
“Make the wee devil land and show me what ye did,” she ordered.
“Draco, here!” I said, holding up my arm. The little dragon swooped in and alighted on my arm; his metal talons carefully locked around the skin instead of sinking into it. I held him up for her inspection.
She was silent as she studied the little model that sat frozen in place. She reached a finger out to touch a set of runes and the small draconian head turned to look at her, freezing her in place.
“He won’t hurt you, Aunt Ash. He only hunts dirt dudes,” I said.
She looked from the dragon to me, her expression worrying me. “He grinds them up with those claws then, does he?”
“Well, yes. Sometimes he burns them though,” I confessed.
“Burns, you say? Jest what are ye talking about here, boy?” That tone sounded like trouble.
“Um, nothing bad. But he’s a dragon… They have to breathe fire. I put the charcoal thing inside him.”
“Best show me, boy.” The continued use of boy was bad.
I walked over to my supply box and picked out a piece of charcoal briquet I had liberated from our grilling supply. It was the kind presoaked in lighter fluid. The piece I offered to Draco was marble-sized. The dragon turned his head and snapped the offering in a single quick motion that caused my aunt to suck in a sharp breath.
“Draco. Burn,” I said, pointing to the dirt dude I was currently using. The dragon launched from my arm and swept up into the rafters of the barn before banking tightly and racing toward the ground. I made the dirt person run, but he was too slow to escape Draco. A small but significant cone of fire streamed from the dragon’s tiny mouth, enveloping the dirt dude and turning his exterior black. The dragon swooped around and landed back on my still outstretched arm. The dirt dude kept running but clumps of blackened, dried-out dirt were cascading from his wire frame. He made it about a yard before he fell in a heap.
I watched my aunt’s face, awaiting her verdict. Somehow, I had overstepped myself, but I wasn’t sure how.
She was frowning as she bent down and poked at the charred dirt.
“Did you realize what you were making, boy?”
“Ah, you already knew I had a dragon. I just made him fly on his own. Can I keep playing?”
“No. At least not till I’ve looked over that… that thing ye made,” she said.
“Did I do bad, Aunt Ash? I was real careful with my Crafting,” I said.
She looked at me, surprised, then her face relaxed and she came over and hugged me. “Oh, lad, you’re gonna make me old before my time,” she said, which I didn’t understand at all, but a hug couldn’t be bad, right?
Fifteen minutes later, my aunt stepped back from her perusal of Draco’s spelled wings.
“It’s clean and crisp,” she said, almost talking to herself. “Every line perfect.”
“See. Which is why it works,” I said.
“But it shouldn’t work,” she said. “But it does, which means really just one thing,” Aunt Ash said. I wondered what the one thing was.
“And it’s combined with Fire,” she said.
“Was that wrong, Aunt Ash?”
“Wrong? No… just, it should not have worked, laddie.” Laddie was lots better than boy.
“Can I keep it?” I asked.
My aunt gave the dragon another look. After a second, she gave a little shrug. Finally, she pulled her eyes from Draco and looked at me. “For now. But you aren’t to use the fire unless I am around.”
I opened my mouth to protest but her hand came up with her index finger extended straight up. Aunt sign language for no buts.
I must have frowned or something because she frowned back. “I know you can handle fire, but this”—she waved at the dragon sitting on
