The Dragon Prince

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. But business had been slow these past few months, and Nanna Hollden and grown desperate.

They all had.

Herebeth tore her eyes from a particularly small blue dragon to scan the faces of the patrons in the bar. About thirty of them sat around circular tables, nursing mugs of beer or wine, laughing and pointing as the miniature dragons swooped and soared around the room.

The dragons may have brought more business to the Valley Tavern, but they had also brought happiness to the people who needed it, a small light in the dark times. Herebeth stared at the smiling faces a while longer, committing them to memory. It made cleaning the dragon poo from the floor just a little bit easier.

‘Herebeth!’

She glanced over her shoulder at Nanna Hollden, who gestured to the bar, where trays of drinks were lined up, waiting to be delivered.

Despite her name, Nanna was only a few years older than Herebeth, with long thick dark hair and full lips always painted red. Nanna’s smile was wide as she handed change back to a customer, though the corners of her eyes were lined with the stress of keeping up the demand for food and drinks.

‘Stop gawking at the dragons and do your job,’ Nanna said, though her tone was warm.

‘Sorry,’ Herebeth murmured, heaving a tray bound for table four onto her arms.

Table four was occupied by three women, their tattered clothes smelling strongly of fish. Herebeth guessed they had just come from the docks.

‘Dragons in the Valley!’ one woman exclaimed, watching fondly as a little red dragon nibbled on her chips. ‘I’ve always loved this place but these creatures are just darling!’

‘Do you not worry about fire?’ another woman asked Herebeth as she accepted her mug of wine. ‘The tavern is practically made of wood.’

‘No ma’am,’ Herebeth replied. ‘We’ve got the ones that don’t breathe fire.’

The bell above the door tinkled behind her, and she turned to welcome the new patrons. But as she saw them, her heart leaped into her throat.

A large lone man had strode in, dressed in a long black travelling coat, the hood pulled up to shroud his face in shadow.

Oh Gods. The Snakefire Gang.

But no, it couldn’t be. Members of the Snakefire Gang never travelled alone. And from what Herebeth had heard, even if they did, they always wore their colours; sparking fear, parading power.

This man, who had now slid into a small table in the corner, had no identifying gang marks, and was already gesturing for her to take his order with a gentle flick of his hand. Herebeth relaxed her shoulder and pasted a customer-service-smile onto her face.

‘What can I get you?’ she chirped.

Though she couldn’t see the man’s eyes in detail, she caught the shine of them reflecting the light as he flicked them toward the little dragons circling the tables.

‘Had them long?’ he asked, his voice gruff.

‘A week or two, sir,’ Herebeth replied, following his gaze. They had five dragons; blue, white, red, and two green. They were the most harmless, most domestic of the species. Nothing like the ones that grew fifty feet, of course. She’d only ever heard stories of those ones, as they resided in the far mountains, and nowhere near the sleepy fishing village of Eventra.

‘Haven’t got a black one?’

‘No, sir.’

‘And you haven’t seen one? Only small, with gold rings around its eyes.’

Herebeth shook her head. ‘Not here, sir. Aren’t those ones incredibly rare?’

The man grunted. ‘And incredibly valuable.’

She gave a short nod. ‘What can I get for you?’

‘Just an ale, please.’

‘Coming right up.’ She bounced on her feet and made for the bar.

Nanna was still bustling behind the bar, but she nodded in the direction of the man in the corner. ‘Who’s that, then?’

‘Not the Snakefire Gang.’

Nanna nodded, her shoulders relaxing. ‘Thank goodness. What’ll he have?’

***

It was almost two a.m. when Herebeth finally shut and locked the Valley’s door. Patrons hadn’t wanted to leave, so enamoured were they by the dragons – and encouraged by the drink. As Herebeth turned back to the bar, it was to Nanna wiggling her fingers gleefully over the till.

‘Those dragons were the best things we ever bought.’

Herebeth glanced at the corner the hooded man had sat at hours before. She rubbed her arms against a sudden chill, though he’d been gone for ages. Haven’t got a black one? Only small, with gold rings around its eyes.

Nanna’s clicking fingers appeared in front of her face, startling her into the present. ‘Are you listening to me? The dragons need feeding and the floor needs a’cleaning.’

The five dragons had already retreated into their box behind the stage, curled around each other and purring softly. But when Herebeth lowered the bowl of fish they all gave little sleepy mewls and leapt for the bowl. She watched them for a moment. These common breeds were like cats, really. Small dogs, maybe. They were gorgeous and exotic, but not so fierce and impressive as the big dragons of the mountains.

With the tavern cleaned and Nanna in retreated to her room, Herebeth trudged up the stairs to her own small room. Furnished only with a bed, dresser, and mirror, the room was neat and clean but without personality. Herebeth had no possessions when she left her family’s farm, and while she was grateful to Nanna for the bed and the work, she didn’t plan on staying in Eventra forever.

Especially not with people sniffing about.

That hooded man was a hunter, Herebeth reflected as she pulled off her shoes. He had to be, if he was after the little black dragon with gold rings around its eyes.

She’d heard whispers, down near the docks. How the dragon king and queen of the mountains had lost their baby. That a prince had been born and stolen, how the dragon king and queen howled with rage and fear and grief. Bounty hunters and fortune seekers alike now searched for the baby. Whether or not it was returned, the dragon prince was worth a fortune.

Herebeth pulled off her beer-smelling shirt and slipped into her nightclothes as a chirp sounded from under her bed.

‘I hadn’t forgotten,’ she said, lowering herself to the ground. On her belly, she reached under the bed, fingers coming into contact with warm scales.

The little black dragon shuffled forward, half closing his eyes as Herebeth scratched under his chin. A thin stream of smoke furled from his nostrils, the gold rings around his eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

‘Get ready,’ she whispered. ‘Tomorrow, we leave.’