The Lost Dragon

As we herd the sheep to the barn, my heart is racing. Grandpa Peter's dragon, Precious, is missing and there is no trace of where she went. Grandpa and I went to the back pasture to find her, but she was gone and the sheep were all scared. Now we have to get them back to safety.

As we run behind the sheep, I can tell they are terrified, because they are baaing constantly and running off in all directions. I am helping by moving as fast as my eleven-year-old legs can take me to try to head off the stragglers. But the sheep are disordered and they keep going in the wrong direction. Grandpa Peter is huffing and puffing and his face is red from trying to keep the sheep together.

"You have to understand why they are scared. Every one of these sheep grew up with Precious as their guard dragon. They have never been without her," says Grandpa.

Finally, we can see the barn. The sight of the barn focuses the sheep, and now they are all running to get back through the gate. Grandpa and I are both relieved when we finally close the barn door and lock the sheep in.

This was not how I expected my first day on the farm in many years would go, but it sure is exciting. I just hope we can find Precious.

“Grandpa! Now can we go look for Precious?” I say.

“Yes! That is exactly what we will do!”

"Where do we look first?"

"I don’t know how we would even begin to look for her. She has never left the sheep unattended in the ten years we have had her. Where could she have gone?"

Grandpa Peter borrows my phone to text Grandma Sarah. She needs to know. Maybe she’ll have some ideas of how to look. Grandma quickly texts back that she’ll put it out on social media that Precious is missing. Many of their friends and neighbors know and love their dragon.

“Jaycee. Let’s go walk the fenceline. Maybe we will find a clue.” And we are off.

We walk south from the barn to the barbed wire fence that separates the farm from the neighbor’s. The fence line goes through the oak woods and is easy to follow. Grandpa takes my hand, and for a while, I can imagine we are just out for a walk on this perfect fall day.

No clues yet. There are no breaks in the fence and we walk alongside it all the way to the back pasture, where the oaks give way to a green grassy hill.

As we climb the hill, we both scan the sky. Grandpa Peter says Precious likes to fly above the sheep while guarding, so maybe she is up there. We run through the options. Maybe she is injured somewhere and can’t move? Maybe she met a feral dragon and had to fight to protect the sheep? Maybe she flew too close to the Schmidt place and he shot at her?

With each possibility worse than the last one, I am getting more and more scared for Precious, and I squeeze Grandpa's hand because I can hear his voice cracking.

“We will find her. We have to! She needs us.” I tell him.

“Keep looking up, Jaycee. You have good eyes and I know you will be the first to see her.”

He texts Grandma Sarah to see if there is any news from her social media post. Nothing yet, except a lot of support from our neighbors, especially those who have sheep. Everyone knows Precious, and Grandma put a nice photo in the post. If only heart emojis could bring back our lost dragon.

“Let’s go back to the place where we found the sheep. Maybe there is something there.” I tell Grandpa.

“Ok, Jaycee.”

We walk into the middle of the pasture, where we both sit down by the lone oak tree.

---

The smell is getting stronger. All morning I have been smelling a hint of something new. I caught my first taste as I circled above the sheep at dawn this morning. It is a smell of fear, like when a lamb gets separated from its momma, but not quite.

As I circle, I think the smell is getting stronger. Either the source of the scent is moving closer, or the fear is growing.

I count my sheep and reassure myself that they are all there. “It isn’t my problem.” I keep telling myself this, as the smell keeps hitting me on the same part of my circle. “But if it isn’t my problem, then whose problem is it? And why aren’t they doing something about it? Why is that fear getting stronger?” My heart keeps telling me to make it my problem.

And besides, as much as I love guarding sheep, I can’t help but think that I am bored. It has been years since a predator last tried to take one of my lambs. I am due for a little adventure.

So I widen my circle and notice which direction the fear smell is coming from. I rise higher and higher and finally decide to leave my circle and follow the smell. As I fly straight away, I look back and see my sheep fade into the distance. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry!” I think. Then I turn my nose to the front and set about the business of finding the source of the smell.

As an experienced flyer, I know that if I turn into the wind, I can just hover in place. I stop midair and find the right direction to maintain the hover. I take a deep breath and calibrate how much fear scent enters into my right nostril versus my left. I can sense a slight preference for the right side and adjust my flight path accordingly.

I fly for a few minutes and then stop to take in the smell and recalibrate again. I do this several times.

Soon I am flying over an unknown forest that spans as far as my dragon eye can see, and it is dotted with little lakes and ponds. I know I am getting closer because the fear smell is beginning to overpower all other smells.

A thought hits me. “If I can smell it, perhaps there might be other dragons out here looking for the fear smell.” I have fought feral dragons before. They are the most dangerous predators I have to worry about, way worse than bears. I stop midair and look in all directions. I take a deep breath and try to separate the fear smell from all the other smells I am taking in.

Are there any other dragons nearby? There are. The smell is faint, but there is at least one other dragon in the vicinity, and it is an individual I have never smelled before. But the scent is far enough off that I think I will reach the source of the smell first if I fly fast. I can fight then if I need to.

I swoop down low to the treetops and circle a glittering lake. I am close! As I get nearer to the forest floor, the smell of the wet leaves threatens to overpower the fear smell. I see a dead tree sticking out above the forest and I perch to get my bearings. I see something. It looks like some humans have built a platform in a clearing nearby and made a nest of sticks and grass on it. The fear smell is definitely coming from there. I lift off and hover over the platform.

In the middle of the nest, there is a bundle. I focus my dragon eyes and see that the bundle is a small child, tied to the platform. The child is wrapped in a white blanket. She is crying. Her eyes are a color amber I have never seen before in a human.

In an instant, I am down on the nest, and I’m using my claws to untie the mewling young one. I wish I could make human sounds to calm her down. I try my best to coo and purr. She is flailing about, making it hard for me to work at the knots. As I work, I can smell human rage somewhere nearby and there is definitely that other dragon getting closer, from the same direction as the rage smell. I work faster, but the knots are tight.

My nose picks up the tang of the other dragon and I look up from the knot. Coming into the clearing are about a dozen humans and they have a silver male dragon on a leash. The dragon is straining against the leash and snarling and it is taking two men to hold him back.

I stop untying the child and pull myself up to my full size to face the group. Smoke is starting to curl out of my nostrils as I get ready to blow fire if needed.

“Get off of there!” Screams a big human with a white beard. I see he is holding a rifle and talking to me.

I don’t move. Instead, I open my wings up to look even bigger, lowering my head and looking as fierce as I can. The men stop about 20 feet away. Their dragon is looking me straight in the eyes.

“That child is an abomination! Yes demands that she stay right there!”

In that moment I look down into the child’s eyes and make a decision. She becomes one of my lost lambs. I stop trying to untie the knots and use my sharpest claw to cut the ropes in one swat.

But before I can grab the child, the other dragon is on me. He comes in strong with his claws out and knocks me off the platform. Soon we are both on the ground and I am giving as much as I’m getting. He has his teeth in my back leg and the pain is searing. But I have raked my claws down his side, and his scales and blood are flying everywhere.

I kick and get him to release my leg and I whirl to face him. We circle each other. And then I jump back up to the nest and he follows me up, limping and bleeding. We engage again on top of the platform right on top of the crying child. Teeth and claws everywhere.

“Shoot her!” I hear a human say.

“I don’t want to hit him!” The would-be shooter says.

“Damn you! Shoot HER!”

In one quick motion, I push him off and grab the child and fly off.

“BANG!” I hear the sharp report of the rifle and I sharply bank a turn as the bullet just misses.

I gain altitude and distance from the humans. My leg is burning with pain like I’ve never felt before.

---

“You need to see this” The text comes in from Grandma Sarah, followed by a link to a social media post.

Grandpa Peter and I are still out in the pasture, scanning the skies while he tells me more stories about Precious.

Grandpa takes my phone and opens the post but he won't show me. I can see from his face that something bad has happened.

"Show me, Grandpa! I know social media and I can tell you if it is fake." He reluctantly hands me the phone.

It is a short video posted by a group called the “Followers of Yes” showing two dragons in an awful fight, followed by one of the dragons flying away with a bundle in her claws. It is not a fake. The fleeing dragon is brown and about the same size as Precious. I can’t tell for sure.

"Is that Precious?"

"It looks a lot like her." Says Grandpa Peter. He continues, "I’ve heard stories about this group, all bad. Their leader calls himself 'Yes' and he has convinced all of his followers to stop saying 'no' to themselves and each other. He tells his people that they deserve everything and there is no one who should say 'no' to them.

"It sounds mystical and all, but in practice, it is a bunch of rich guys who go out into the woods and tell each other how great they are and how no man or woman should say 'no' to them."

I tell Grandpa Peter that it sounds like some of the boys from my school and he snorts a laugh.

“Let’s go back to the barn. That’s where she’ll go first,” says Grandpa.

As we start walking, we get another text from Grandma Sarah.

“This just came through on the same account…”

The video is a bearded guy in a ball cap talking to the camera.

“There are laws against dragon fighting for good reason. My dragon was brutally attacked today.”

He turns the camera to show a silver male dragon with big wounds all along his side and on his face. I'm no expert on dragon wounds, but judging by the amount of blood I see, he might not make it.

“This dragon must be found and put down.” He shows a close-up of Precious, looking fierce. “She also took something which is not hers. The followers of Yes demand that this dragon be brought to justice and our personal property returned.”

“If you know the identity of this dragon or her owners, please let Yes know. We will pay handsomely for any information leading to her capture.”

In my head, I say “No!” to “Yes,” and when I look at Grandpa I can see he is really scared.

---

Flying with my injured leg while I carry the child is taking everything I have. I can barely keep myself above the tree line and soaring is out of the question. The child has stopped crying. Perhaps she likes the warmth of my chest as I hold her tight. I keep purring and cooing the best I can.

When I leave the forested area I land in the first open field I see. The landing is rough because I can’t put any weight on my injured leg and I have one arm occupied trying to keep the child from falling. I land hard on my shoulder and then crawl to the shelter of a nearby tree.

My nose tells me that there are sheep nearby and also a dragon, likely their guard. I can smell curiosity from the dragon and a little nervousness from the sheep.

Soon there are dozens of sheep surrounding me and the tree, and a yellow female dragon is watching them and approaching me warily. I recognize her scent.

In my valley, all the dragons who guard sheep know each other. We feel like we are all on one team together against the predators. Sometimes at night when our sheep are safe in their barns, we fly to a meeting place to be in the company of other dragons and speak our own language. I have seen this dragon before, but we aren’t close.

“I’m Clarissa. You’re hurt.” She says matter-of-factly.

As the sheep gather around, I tell her of my fight with the silver dragon and how I came to be in possession of a human child. In fact, the child has fallen asleep on the grass and two lambs have come and cuddled with her. The yellow dragon inspects my wound and asks if I can walk. I try a little walk and immediately realize that my leg feels like it is on fire. It won’t take any weight.

“Can you fly?” She says.

I stretch out my wings. “I think so, but just barely.”

“We need to get you home so you can have that wound tended. And somebody needs to feed the young human. They can't survive long without care. Hop on my back and we will do a tandem flight. I’ll hold the human.”

---

Grandpa Peter and I are looking west from the barn when I see her.

“There!” I point, but all Grandpa can see is a speck on the horizon. Soon she comes into view enough for him to say, "yes" quietly. It looks like a small airplane coasting in. There are two dragons flying straight toward us, stacked up one on top of the other, both with wings out.

As they get closer I see the bottom one is yellow and carrying a bundle and the top one is our Precious, and she is holding onto the yellow one. The yellow dragon is clearly working hard, flapping wings twice as often as Precious.

They come to a landing on the cement behind the barn. Precious steps off and collapses to the ground. The yellow dragon dips her head and sets the bundle on the ground. I can see now that the “valuable possession" that the Yes men were talking about is a little girl who can’t be more than two years old. The girl is awake and looks at me with wide eyes. Her eyes are a bright amber color and, unless I am mistaken, her skin also seems to be glowing. She is wrapped tightly in cloth and ropes and I run to her and begin unwrapping, all while talking to her and telling her that she is safe now.

Grandpa Peter opens the gate and the sheep come to crowd around Precious, who is crumpled up against the fence. Grandpa joins them, talking to Precious and stroking a spot on her forehead.

The yellow dragon looks at Precious, looks at the little girl, and then jumps into the air to fly away.

---

I don't know how Clarissa did it, but I'm home. One of my humans is there with all of my sheep and there is a young human with them who runs to tend to the child Clarissa carried back. I want to tell her that the child likes it when you hum and purr, but my human is rubbing my forehead and I drop into the relaxed trance that always happens when he touches me there.

When I wake, there are other humans around me. They have slipped ropes under my belly. My human is in front talking to me. He says, "they are going to lift you up to carry you into the barn. The vet will be here soon to look at your leg. Hang in there Preshy."

I feel a surge of pain when they lift me. My hurt leg is dangling on the side, but the others can take some weight, so I help the humans a little. When we are in the barn, they set me down on fresh straw with my leg out.

I hear the piercing scream of a young human child.

---

Grandma Sarah is in the house with me holding the child who is screaming her head off. We try to give her some fresh buttered bread and some milk. We try changing her diaper, too, but nothing stops her from screaming.

Finally, I ask Grandma if we can bring her down to the barn to be with Precious.

As soon as we walk into the barn, the child starts moving in Grandma's arms until she finally sets her down. The child then toddles over to where Precious is lying down and throws herself at Precious's outstretched neck. Immediately, Precious wraps her wing around the child and I can hear her purring like a big cat. The child stops screaming and soon looks like she is going to go to sleep.

It has been both the best and worst day of my life. What will happen to Precious? Will the vet be able to save her? Will the Followers of Yes come to the farm? And who is this strange child asleep with our dragon?

I'm ready to help.

© Andrew Gaertner, 2022