Dragonscouts, Chapter 1

There weren’t always dragons in the valley, and they didn’t keep a predictable schedule, either. At least, nothing that the hunters of Pindot could plan around. So it was up to the country’s most edible youth to search the valley for signs of dragons the night of every full moon.

Yes, you heard me right. Most edible. Able-to-be-eaten. The kids no one would miss if a few of them got scarfed down by the dragons they were searching for. They were orphans, miscreants, thieves; Those who skipped school and would never amount to much anyway. Those with gangly frames, sour attitudes, bent backs.

And then there are those like Ianic, who was none-of-the-above.

When the soldiers found Ianic, he was tugging his four-year-old sister Clara through the crowded market district at the center of Pindot. With one hand he held her wrist, so none of the other boys could tease him about holding hands with a girl, even his baby sister. With his other hand, he clenched 25 copper coins — money they’d earned mopping floors for wealthy families that morning.

“Stop dragging!” he said, and he pulled her along. “With a crowd this big you’d think it was the Day of Jupiter or something. We’ve got to move.”

Clara tugged back against Ianic’s grip.

“Then let me hold the money!” she shouted over the noisy street.

“Like I said, you can hand it to the jeweler, but I’m holding it till then,” Ianic said. “Mama’s present costs the whole 25 pieces and we can’t afford to lose even one.”

Just then, Ianic caught the sight of something flying nearby. He jerked backward, and a raw egg splattered on the cobblestone just ahead of his feet. Somewhere in the crowd, young voices whooped and older voices growled. Ianic tightened his grip on Clara’s wrist and the coins.

“Eggers.” Ianic rolled his eyes and stepped over the cracked egg. He pulled Clara forward but, of course, one foot stepped right in the yolk, which pushed up through her toes. Ianic’s stomach lurched but he kept moving.

“Let me hold one piece, I promise I won’t let go,” Clara said, as though she didn’t have yellow gunk stuck in her toes.

“When we get there, you can hold every last piece. And then you can wear Mama’s new hair pin until we get home, got it?”

The crowd ahead of them suddenly parted, and Ianic saw a boy plowing his way through. His face was flushed white and sweat poured down his forehead. Behind him, three other boys bounded forward, their fists clenched. These had to be the eggers.

The pale-faced boy dodged around Clara, but his pursuers seemed rougher and less likely to care about anything in their path. Ianic snatched Clara off her feet and out of the way just before they ran past. They would have run her over!

“Watch your step!” Ianic shouted, shaking his money-holding fist.

One of the boys turned to sneer at Ianic. He had ruddy cheeks and tangled, dark-red hair. He looked to be 11 or 12, about Ianic’s age, and entirely too busy to care about bowling down little girls. Ianic shook his head and turned away, still holding Clara.

Then he felt a thud on his back and heard the sound of a crack.

Ianic froze. Clara burst into manic laughter.

“They got you!” she said. She buried her giggles into Ianic’s shoulder.

Ianic spun around with fire in his brown eyes, which followed the red-headed egger until he disappeared into the crowd. Ianic gritted his teeth and grunted. He let the laughing Clara slide down from his hip to the ground and pulled her back through the crowd. He felt the sticky egg bleeding through his shirt.

A moment later Ianic heard a gruff voice shout, “I see him!” He didn’t need to look; he knew the voices of soldiers out looking for dragon scouts. It was, after all, a full moon tonight, time to send the edible youth out to search for the dragons. The rowdy eggers who had burst their way through the crowd would be the perfect recruits.

“It’s this way!” Clara said as they came to a cross street, pointing to her left.

“No, it’s the next street,” Ianic said.

“No! It’s on the street with the big rooster!” Clara pointed to the large bird statue perched on the side of a shop. It wasn’t a rooster.

“That’s a peacock,” Ianic said. “You’re right about the rooster, but that’s on the next street.”

“No, that’s a rooster!” Clara said, jabbing her finger toward the giant peacock. “Mama’s present is this way!”

“No it isn’t, now come on!” Ianic said. “We’ve got to buy the hairpin before someone else does. And get home in time to help Papa make the cake!” He pressed forward into the crowd, but his arm jerked backward. He looked, and Clara glared. Her feet were planted on the cobblestone street.

“It’s this way!” she said, stomping one foot.

Ianic rolled his eyes. Girls! He gave her hand a tug again and turned toward the street where they really had found the hairpin.

But then he felt Clara’s other hand on top of his, prying his fingers off. Before he could clench his fingers tighter on hers, her hand was out, and she had slipped between two passersby. Ianic shook his head and threw his hands up in the air.

He bolted between other walkers on the street. Clara was causing a bit of commotion, never bothering to look anywhere before she stepped. For that matter, she was no better than the boys who’d been running around, who surely had been rounded up as dragonscouts by now. If she got lost for even a minute, she’d tell their parents when they got home and Ianic would never hear the end of it.

But people don’t make way for an 11 year old boy the way they do for a small girl. When you’re 11, you have to forge your own path through the crowd, asserting yourself every step of the way. In other words, you have to be bolder than Ianic.

Those other boys — the ones who almost ran roughshod over Clara — they knew how to step in front of someone, cutting them off, without feeling bad about it. They didn’t need to stop, not for a split second to apologize. Ianic, on the other hand, was more likely to let someone else pass, then step behind them, giving a polite nod to the next person who was still a step or two away. Clara was now out of sight.

Ianic took a deep breath and stepped in front of a business-looking man. “Excuse me,” he muttered, and then he shouted, “Clara, wait! Clara I’m coming!”

Ianic pushed his way through the crowd until he finally escaped onto the side street, which had hardly any traffic. There was Clara, rushing up the uneven cobblestones to the place where the jeweler would have been, if this were the right street.

Ianic took a deep breath and lunged forward into a run ― until something jerked him back.

“Got ‘em!” a voice shouted. A black glove held Ianic's left shoulder tight.

“Hands off!” he barked. He used both his hands to push against it, but another glove grabbed his hands and twisted him around.

“Let go!” Ianic shouted, but then he looked straight up into the face of a soldier.

The man towered over him. His crooked nose twitched, and his piercing green eyes stared out through bushy brown eyebrows.

“Got ‘em indeed!”

“Let go, I need to get my sister!” Ianic said, trying to pull away. The soldier barked a laugh. He hoisted Ianic up over his shoulder, facing behind him. Ianic kicked wildly and tried to swing his hands free.

“Put me down! What are you doing?”

“Shut your mouth and save your breath,” the soldier said, and he started walking.

Ianic felt numb. He knew that this could only mean he'd been picked up for a dragon scouting venture. He wasn't supposed to be chosen! He'd always gone to school, he obeyed the law, he worked hard! He was young and strong and had a sister to take care of and parents to help. He'd spent all morning cleaning houses, for Jupiter's sake! He kicked and screamed and beat his fists against the soldier's back.

That did nothing. The soldier marched on as though there was nothing but a mosquito buzzing on his back.

Ianic grabbed the cape that flowed from the man's shoulders and threw it over his face. The soldier shouted and tossed it back ― then he slapped Ianic's thighs so hard that they felt like they'd split open. Ianic winced from the pain.

"Don't try that again!" the soldier said.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Clara standing alone on the street and staring after him.

“Ianic!” she screamed. Her voice was mostly lost in the noise of the crowd. She started running toward him.

“Clara!” Ianic shouted. “Get Papa! Get Mama!”

He remembered that Clara would have no idea how to get home.

He shouted as loud as he could.

“Find a nice lady and tell her you live near the water mill!” he said. “You live near the water mill!”

“Ianic come back!” Clara said, a little closer this time.

Ianic noticed that his right hand was still gripped tight on 25 copper coins. He bit his lip, stared at Clara’s eyes as best as he could and reached out his hand. He dropped the coins. As they hit the ground, he waved goodbye.

Clara slowed to a stop. She looked at the coins at her feet, then looked back up at Ianic. Her bottom lip was stuck out the way she always held it when she was ready to cry.

“You live near the water mill!” Ianic screamed.

And then the soldier threw him into the door of an enclosed wagon. Ianic landed on top of someone who pulled away quick. Ianic stumbled backward in the dark, stepping on someone who let out a high-pitched scream.

Ianic jumped and stumbled about, trying to get his balance without stepping on anyone. Finally he turned and came face to face with the red-headed egger.

"You!" the egger said.

"You," Ianic mumbled.

They stared each other down, as though by staring they could burn a hole in the others' eyes.

"Only one of us deserves to be here," Ianic said.

The egger crinkled his nose and rose up taller. Ianic prepared to dodge back in case the boy swung a fist.

But then his blood grew thick at the sound of screaming coming toward the wagon's open door.

"Hold the door, I think this one wants to come!" a gruff voice shouted.

Ianic turned just in time to see Clara thrown through the door and roll across the floor. He ran to wrap his arms around her.

“That’s it!” someone said, and the door slammed shut.

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I wrote this for the Vocal + Fanasy Prologue Challenge ... I'm not a Vocal + member but decided to publish it anyway. If you'd like to read about what happens to Ianic and Clara and the red-headed egger, let me know!