Page 1 of The Infirmary for Dragon Burns and Midair Mishaps

1

EDEN

There was a dragon clinging to the roof of the infirmary when I arrived.

Granted, it was a rather tiny dragon.

It had a bit of a belly, like it had recently swallowed half a dozen pigeons, and long, black claws that wrapped around the chimney. Rich ruby scales ran along its back, fading to a dusty pink. When it caught sight of me, a forked tongue flicked out to taste the air.

I froze in place, waiting to see how the dragon would react.

Rule number one when confronted with a wild dragon? Give it a wide berth.

Their cuisine of choice was feathered, which meant the majority of wild dragon encounters ended peacefully. But there was no need to provoke it. Or risk being the minority.

I stood still, holding my breath. And that’s when it opened its mouth, flashing two rows of pointed teeth in warning.

Oh, for the love of all that was star-touched. I didn’t have time for this today!

Ember Ridge was nestled along the path of the Great Dragon Migration. It was one of several communities across Cai’amar, the land where dragons flourished, with alpine caves large enough to accommodate the influx of dragons that needed to rest during the long journey. That meant the chance of wild dragon encounters went from rare to an everyday occurrence in this town for a few short months every year, but no one told me what to do if a grumpy dragon was impeding my ability to start my new job.

I took a sneaky step toward the building, watching as two tendrils of smoke curled from the dragon’s nostrils. Its thin tail lashed left and right. “Nice, dragon,” I said, inching forward again. “Good. You just stay put and⁠—”

That’s when I heard the high-pitched shrieking. The dragon’s head snapped around at the sound, and I used its distraction to hurry to the other side of the infirmary. My eyes widened as I took in the actual spectacle.

A curly haired, middle-aged woman stood at the top of a rickety wooden ladder, one hand latched onto the roofing tiles for stability, the other hand brandishing a large broomstick. “Be gone, you wee beast!” she hollered at the dragon. “Get off my roof!”

“Are you okay up there?” I called up to her, my arm shooting out as the ladder trembled. “Do you need any help?”

The woman didn’t seem to notice me, or if she did, she didn’t seem to care. Her attention was fully on the task at hand. Her cheeks puffed until they were as red as poppy flowers, and then something between a shriek and a belch exploded from her. “Bah! Shoo! You’re going to cave it in!”

“I know she’s only trying to scare the thing away,” a voice said. “But she’s going about it all wrong.” I whipped around to find a slender young woman draped in layers of fabric. She couldn’t have been much older than me. Late-twenties, perhaps? She clutched a box of jarred herbs to her chest. “I keep trying to explain that it sounds like she’s attempting to summon a bullfrog. And honestly, that’s the last thing we need. Dragons on the roof. Bullfrogs in the cellar. What’s next?”

“Wyrms in the attic?” I suggested.

“I should hope not.” She gave a full-body shiver, the jars in her box rattling. “I don’t think I could tolerate an infestation of those slithery things. The big ones don’t bother me so much, but the tiny ones—eww. It gives me the willies just thinking about it.”

I gave her a wry grin. Wyrms were much, much smaller than dragons, but being so small created its own set of problems. They slithered their way into tiny holes and tight crevices until there was a colony. And anyone who’d ever faced off against an infestation of wyrms knew their sparks could leave behind a nasty singe.

“I’m Nisse, by the way.” The woman shifted the box in her arms to shake my hand. She blew her bangs out of her eyes. Her hair was straight and black, cut short at the jaw, and her eyes were the clear blue of a cloudless dawn. She gestured with her elbow to a small garden gate at the edge of the infirmary. “My apothecary shop is just around the back.”

“Good to meet you,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I’m Eden.”

“I know.” She grinned. “Gunther told us to expect you this morning.” Her gaze flitted back to the woman on the ladder, still threatening the dragon with her broom. “That wild one up there is Seraphine. She manages the waiting room.”

“I thought you were going to tell me she’s your dragon deterrent system.”

Nisse’s lips twitched. “My advice is not to get on her bad side. She’s been known to use that broomstick on more than just the dragons.”

“Noted,” I said, watching Seraphine swing her broom as well as any kingsguard with a longsword. The chubby dragon bristled in response, scales lifting as its muscles coiled. I knew a warning sign when I saw one, and the last thing I wanted to see was Seraphine get a face-full of dragon fire. Unease swirled in my belly. I winced, pinching one of my eyes closed.

“Don’t you start that with me!” Seraphine cried. “If I see even one spark from you, you’ll regret it!” She slapped the broomstick down onto the roof. “Go on, you! Fly off. Bahhhhh!”

To my surprise, the dragon jerked back from her threats, gave an indignant growl, then scrambled up the chimney and launched into the sky. A pair of coral wings unfurled to carry it away.

“Whoo,” Nisse cheered. “The roof is safe another day.”

“Does that happen a lot?” I asked.