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   Chapter 41 No.41

The Book of Deacon By Joseph R. Lallo Characters: 4981

Updated: 2018-01-19 12:03

Myranda took out her canteen and took a long swig. The dragon smacked its tongue several times, making it clear that it too needed to wash down the excessively salty meal.

"I know, it makes you thirsty eating that stuff. Particularly if you eat twice your share. I've got water here, but. . . I don't know how to give it to you. Well. . . here, " she said, pouring a bit of it into her cupped hand.

With the limited mobility of her injured shoulder, she had a hard time of it, but the effort did not go unappreciated. In a flash, the tongue was out, writhing about as though it had a life of its own. It had a very slight rough feel to its top side, and a smooth bottom. The feeling was bizarre as it curled in her palm and between her fingers. She found the tongue sweeping with special interest over the slight abrasion the tooth had caused. As she refilled her palm once more, she found the dragon's interest lingering on the drops of blood that seeped from the cut here and there. It was time to put an end to this.

"We need to find a better way. Partially because my hand is freezing, but mostly because I am afraid you are getting to like the taste of me. Not that I don't trust you. It's just that the food will be running thin soon, and it is clear you have a healthy appetite. I do not want to give you any ideas about an alternate menu, " she said, as though the dragon could understand.

She looked for some vessel to pour the water into. Failing to find one, she decided

e night through on top of Myranda. When she awoke, the creature seemed deathly cold. The night had taken quite a toll. Myranda scolded herself for not realizing the danger Myn would have been in, exposed to the elements all night.

"Myn? Are you all right?" she asked desperately, nudging at the frighteningly cold neck of the dragon.

It slowly opened its eyes and yawned sluggishly. The little dragon stood and stretched stiffly. She seemed weak, her tail dragging the ground and her head sagging. Myranda was well and truly fearful for the dragon's health when, suddenly, it puffed out its chest. A moment later a surge of brilliant orange flame erupted from the creature's mouth. Instantly she seemed to perk up. Myranda was more than a bit startled, but the improvement in Myn relieved her.

"So, you can breathe fire, " she said, standing and placing a hand on the neck of the dragon. Myn was a good deal warmer, which reminded Myranda just how cold the air was. "I wish I could."

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