[stylist] Trials of an honorary Dragon chapter 29 (New chapter)

[helene ryles]

Chapter 29
By Liza Bronze.

"Here are a couple of things for you to read. Pyre transcribed them
into braille for you to practice on," finger spelt P. C. Rickshaw.
She had come a moment after Nadia was wheeled away to the operation
theatre, to have her cochlear implant removed.
“I wonder if I’ll ever see her alive again,” I lamented.
“Of course you will.   The doctor wouldn’t have operated on her if he
didn’t think she would pull though…”
“That was Pyre’s doing.  They wouldn’t operate on her until we agreed
to sign a form promising not to sue them if Nadia died under the
anaesthetic…”
“Oh that’s just standard procedure.  Anyway, do you want to read this
letter?  It’s from your father to your aunt Beria,” P.C. Rickshaw told
me.
I ungraciously snatched the letter from P.C. Rickshaw and slowly
struggled through the braille symbols at my fingertips.

"Dear Beria,
Yes I got your letters asking me to testify in your favour.  I told a
pack of lies to suit you and Madrella last time, but I'm not going to
repeat that.  You have a nerve asking anything of me after landing me
in this dump.  I would never have answered you at all but my prison
officer tells me it’s compulsory so here goes.
Yes, and you can stop blackmailing me.  I intend to let the whole
world know that it was I, and not Madrella, who killed my other three
daughters. I would have killed Liza too but you were around so I
thought I could try and capitalize on her miserable existence instead.
 I was hoping your dragon would eat her.   I used to let Madrella
watch me while I terminated the brats.  She was an attentive pupil. I
later got her animals to practice on, so when her daughters were born,
she knew exactly what to do.  I believe she used the same methods to
eradicate her mother-in-law and several sisters-in-laws too.  The
sickness they suffered from was only a diversion.  It wouldn’t have
killed them if Madrella hadn’t done so.
 I write this now since I'm confident that they won't kill me,
whatever I say or do.  They want me to produce enchanted prosthetic
wings for them, in the hope of making mankind airborne.  They tried to
make me share some of my trade secrets but I’m not stupid.  I know if
they could produce the wings themselves I would be dead in no time.
Must go,
Snyder Slyrake.

I was about to tear the letter up, but P.C. Rickshaw was faster.  She
snatched the letter back.
"I want your mother to read it now. She seems to think very highly of
your father.  Do you think she would still fancy him if she knew he
was the one to murder your sisters?" she asked.
“Mother doesn’t know braille,” I told her.
“Really, how strange; she has been deafblind for such a long time. How
could that happen?” P.C Rickshaw asked in surprise.
“No stranger then a deaf person not learning to sign…” I commented.
“That’s totally different. My parents wanted the best for me, so they
gave me an oral education.  My mother spent hours training me to speak
and listen…” P.C. Rickshaw told me.
“Well, you are only a little hard of hearing.  My sister was also
deprived of sign language and she still can’t talk…”
“I’d rather you didn’t compare my mother to a murderer like your
father,” P.C Rickshaw demanded in swift angry strokes.
I pulled my hand away.   I had always known my father was bad, so it
really   shouldn't have come as such a shock.
"You don’t have to take it out on me.  I just thought you would want
to know what really happened to your sisters. You won't have to put up
with me for much longer anyway.  I'm getting death threats now,"
Rickshaw told me.
"Who by?" I asked.
"They are hardly going to leave me their name and address.  I suspect
that Beria's involved though as she's the only one who knows my email
address, although she could have passed it on to Madrella,"
"Isn't she in prison?" I asked.
"They do have computers in prison you know.  Julius also insists they
supply her with everything she asks for, including wax ear plugs and a
sewing kit.  It’s supposed to be used to cut out the noise of the
other prisoners, but wax dolls can be made out of it as well.  She’s
good at that sort of magic.  Curse the Slyrake clan; I never met a
darker witch clan.  They give witches a bad reputation,”
“What about my aunt Arielle?”
“What kind of parent abandons their three year old daughter? She was
really needed here, to protect Nadia, but she just left you and Nadia
without any sort of protection.  The least she could have done was
told Katrina what was going on”
“I did tell Katrina what Madrella was like but Katrina left anyway…” I
commented.
“So did my brother and I, but we just came across as bitter.  Blaming
Madrella on our dead family members, but it turned out we were right
in the end.  As for you, Beria managed to convince her that you were
just plain paranoid.  She promised to keep an eye on Nadia for her.
Katrina isn’t from these parts so she was completely taken in by
Beria.  Arielle knows Beria better but she couldn’t be bothered to put
Katrina straight.  After all what has happened since you would have
thought Arielle would have had the decency to come back to testify.  I
wanted her to come back but she refuses to do so.  Since she’s no
longer in the country, there is nothing we can do to force her…” P.C.
Rickshaw stormed.
I made no reply.  Arielle made an excellent teacher, but she did cut
people off once she lost interest in them.  She wouldn’t even come
back after Vinny had a stroke, which left Sunniva in the care of her
15 year old brother Pyre.
“Anyway, I think you should read this.  I found the original print
copy among Beria’s things.  It’s been written by Beria’s dragon,” P.C.
Rickshaw told me, Handing me another braille manuscript.  This one was
several pages long.

2nd May, 1960

I was flying over Nazdonia one day, having narrowly escaped a pack of
dragon slayers when I sensed a human dying.    Having not eaten
recently I decided it was time for another meal.
I approached cautiously.   I could tell, as I got nearer, that this
was a very angry human.   He was furious because his wife had just
left him for his brother, Snyder Slyrake.
What is it about humans that make them react in this peculiar way to
such trivial matters?  Why can’t they just simply share?
“May my unfaithful ex wife, Mona Slyrake’s eyes cloud over with thick
white cataracts?  May she also go very deaf…?”   The dying witch
rasped.  As I peered through his window I could see a scantly dressed
man with a sickly yellow complexion from staying indoors for too long.
 He was clutching at a small glass bottle which I saw slip to the
floor.   He lay slumped in his study which looked as if a whirl wind
had struck it.  In front of him was a wax model of his former wife.
He gasped with pain as he spitefully stuck pins into the eyes and ears
of this model.
Death curses are notoriously powerful things.  This was why he had
swallowed poison first.  He wanted to put all his magic into this
curse.  There were a lot of misfortunes which he wished to heap upon
Mona and Snyder.
“May all Mona‘s future children all be born deaf and blind, and all
her grandchildren and great grandchildren too…  May they also all be
female.”  Fortunately he died at that point before he could think of
anything worse to add.
This was a particularly vindictive human.   He was even worse then the
evil minded pack of Dragon slayers that I’d just escaped from.

I flew home with the dead human in my claws.  Half an hour later, I
landed on the roof of a large stone building, that I created myself.
I settled down in a large comfortable hammock suspended from the
ceiling of my living room.  The walls of this room are all lined with
shelves. There are several hooks from the ceiling to hang things from.
  It makes one wonder how humans manage to access things that they
keep from their ceilings since they can’t fly to them?
I rang a brass bell.
My servant Beria Slyrake came scurrying forward with a big smile on
her face which did not quite reach her orange flame coloured eyes.
Her eyes had a sad haunted look about them.   She bowed somewhat
wearily in my direction.   She is a young beautiful witch with a
golden brown skin and black waist length hair.   She is more fortunate
then most humans since she has her own flying rickshaw.
I sent her an image of a corpse on the roof.  I showed him swallow
poison.  Next I sent her a picture of me eating the corpse followed by
a question mark.
"That will depend on what he took?  Do you have anything to show for
it?” Beria asked.  Her smile vanished altogether when she saw the
corpse.   She put her hand to her mouth, staring at him in horror.
I handed Beria the bottle.
“That’s my brother, please let me bury him, master… In any case I
wouldn’t risk eating him.  That’s one of the most deadly poisons known
to man…  Was it a death curse? What did he curse the unfaithful wretch
with anyway?” she asked, wiping away a tear.
Through a series of images and symbols I explained what had happened.
“That’s not too bad then,” Beria commented.
I sent her a big question mark.
 “Well he could have cursed her with insanity, chronic pain and evil
offspring. It would have been no more then she deserved, making
trouble among my two brothers like that. What did she think she was
playing at?” Beria stormed.
I sent her an image of her amongst other such vindictive humans.  I
shook my head in utmost disapproval at her outburst.
“My mother manages very well as a deafblind person.   She was born
blind and lost her hearing later in life.   Mankind is quite adaptable
you know,” she told me.
I sent her an image of a sad earthbound human, desperately wishing for flight.
“Humans generally don’t regard lack of flight as a problem,” she observed.
I repeated the previous image followed by a human putting on a brave
but tragic face.  Then I sent her an image of me sitting down with a
roasted human leg.
“Master, may I interest you in a leg of pork instead.  If I cook it
well and add spices I‘m sure you won‘t even be able to tell the
difference," she inquired.   Nervously clasping and unclasping her
hands.
I firmly repeated my request for human legs.  These humans need to
know who is boss.
“I’m afraid humans are quite attached to their legs…” she told me.
I sent her an image of a pig clearly attached to its legs too. I
showed her how much easier it was to communicate with humans.  It’s
through their love of yellow metal that I get them to part with their
legs.  Pigs are not so greedy.
Of course none of this should really be necessary.  It’s thanks to
those sentimental interfering dragons that made it illegal to simply
take a human’s legs away without their written consent. Now the same
dragons want to push for a total ban.  It makes me flapping mad.   If
these dragons don’t want to eat human legs, nobody is forcing them,
but they should not interfere in my dietary choice.
"Wait… I‘ve got something that might interest you," Beria cried.
Beria came back a few minutes later with a newspaper.
"Here, It's on page 31.  I’ve marked it out for you… about a dragon
who has adopted a vegetarian diet.  If it influences you at all…”
I shook my head impatiently.   Beria is a good well trained human but
I can tell the idea of humanity being part of the food chain bothers
her.    I don‘t mind humans with spirit, but Beria can go too far at
times.
"Very well Master, I‘ll do my best.  I envy mother.  She is never
required to do anything as degrading as this," and Beria left,
slamming the door behind her.