(eng) Maryjanice Davidson, Anthony Alongi - Jennifer Scales 01 by The Ancient Furnace

Author:The Ancient Furnace [Furnace, The Ancient]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

By the time breakfast began, Jennifer had counted no fewer than thirty-two different dragons running through her grandfather’s pastures, or slinking through the trees, or sailing over the lake on tranquil wings. There were tramplers like Catherine, all some shade of green with large bodies, crimson eyes behind any number of nose horns, and not much in the way of wings; dashers like Alex, with small bright blue bodies, golden eyes, and brilliant patterns under their broad wings; and creepers like her father and grandfather, purple or black for the most part, horns or crests at the backs of their heads, and not often seen because of the way their scales seemed to shift color and texture at will.

It was odd, seeing her second home populated by completely foreign creatures. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized so much of what she thought familiar was changing€”the people back home, her friends, her family, herself, everything.

Sheep was on the menu, of course, and Jennifer took the time to catch and prepare her own. It made her feel more like she was blending in, and she had to admit the more she saw of these other dragons, the more the idea appealed to her. Besides, she realized as she watched them hunt, she hadn’t eaten solid food in days, and that seemed stupid in retrospect. What had she been thinking?

The dragons were a boisterous lot when they gathered. She couldn’t really tell anyone’s gender, nor their age, though if her parents were right, everyone would be at least a couple of years older than she. Dashers mingled with creepers, and creepers with tramplers€”no one seemed to care much who was who, and no dragon was alone. Even Jennifer, who was trying to sit back and observe everyone else over her own ketchup-splashed sheep bits, found herself laughing at jokes she overheard, and smiling back at those who passed her on the porch.

“Time for a story!” one of the dashers called out after most of them had finished eating. “Where’s old Crawford? Crawdad, tell us a tale!”

“I’m right here! But why doesn’t anyone ever write these things down when I tell them, so you don’t have to keep bugging me?” Her grandfather’s voice was boisterous, and made the others laugh. “Very well, a story. It is our tradition after all, especially when newer dragons are among us. This is how our people hand down history and legends€”around a meal, and under a crescent moon. We don’t keep much in the way of libraries or archives€”my sitting room has more fiction than fact, I’m afraid€”but I’ll tell you a story some say is true, and some say not.

“There was a time, centuries ago, when people accepted dragons, adapted to their presence, and even revered them in parts of the world. Civilizations believed dragons to bring luck, weather, or even life and death. People changed their crops, tactics in battle, and who they would marry, all on the whisper of a whim of a forked tongue.

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