TJ & Rita Webb

the only good dragon is a … dead dragon?

Deceiving Dragons

Chapter 6, Part 3

Deceiving Dragons cover - beautiful woman with black hair wearing leather, sitting in a hoop, magic swirling behind her

They call her broken doll,
soulless monster …

…all she wants is to be a real girl.

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Chapter 6, Part 3

~ Riley ~

Rook’s phone rings, a red glyph lighting up, and she turns to shield the display from me. She frowns before answering. “Hunter,” she greets.
I know him. A frequent patron at Brogg’s bar, he is a melancholy drunk. Most people only see an angry drunk, his expression stolid and hard, no emotion on his cold face, but I’ve seen the tears. I’ve heard him crying out his wife’s name once he’s downed a few bottles of Jim Beam Black.
But he disappeared a few months back. I thought he’d finally drank his sorrows to death.
“It’ll cost you,” Rook says. “I have a mission in mind for you already.”
I wish I could hear the other side of the conversation. What could the Hunter possibly need?
“You!” she exclaims.
I jump from her sudden loudness beside me.
“You brought him into this?” Her voice is more shocked than angry. “With Kage’s puppets in play? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you know who he is?”
I lean forward, trying to listen to the other end, but all I can hear is the gravelly tones of Hunter’s voice. No actual words.
She listens to the other line before saying, “I’ll send a team. Expect them in five minutes.”
Her hands shake as she hangs up the phone. “It was him.”
“This is good.” The old dragon closes his eyes and sighs. “There is not much time left. I could see how he has his father’s strong jaw, his mother’s eyes. Go. You must do what needs to be done.”
Leaving me there, Rook teleports away, her body condensing in on itself and vanishing. I hesitate. Now, what do I do?
“Would you help an old man?” The old dragon pushes himself up to his knees, and I hurry around to help him off the floor. He pats my hand. “Follow your heart, dear child. You have everything you need to make the right decision.”

That makes it easy. My heart tells me that the only good dragon is a —
“– a dead dragon?” He shakes his head. “I understand the sentiment, but dragons were once a noble race. Take the time to talk to this elite general of yours. You will know the right choice.”
He walks me to the door, and I ride the elevator up alone, feeling more confused and frustrated about the upcoming mission than I did before.


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