Page 15
“I’ve got you.” His hand briefly closes over mine, adjusting my grip before he steps back. “Now strike the end.”
I stare at the piece of metal. “With this?”
“Aye.”
Swallowing hard, I lift the hammer. It takes both hands. I bring it down with all my strength.
Clang!
The sound rings through the forge.
I blink.
Lucan gestures toward the metal. “Again.”
I strike it a second time. The softened metal gives beneath the blow, bending exactly where Lucan indicated.
My eyes widen. “Oh.” I stare at the newly formed angle. “I did it!”
A broad smile spreads across Lucan’s face. “I knew you could.”
He reaches out and claps one enormous hand against my shoulder. The gesture nearly knocks me sideways.
I laugh, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face.
“Good job, Doc,” he says with a wink.
My cheeks burn.
I glance toward the furnace, grateful for the roaring flames and the heat radiating across my face. At least the forge gives me an excuse for the blush I can’t seem to control whenever Lucan is this close.
I finally understand what parents mean when they say you blink and suddenly your child has doubled in size. Because that’s exactly how I feel about Maple.
It’s only been a week since I found her, and she’s already put on five pounds. Every morning, she seems just a little bigger than she was the day before. At this rate, she’ll outgrow the clinic kennel before the month is over.
Her stumpy little wings, however, have stayed the same size.
I crouch beside her as she devours her dinner, running my fingers gently along her ruby-red scales. The row of tiny spines lining her back twitches beneath my touch, and a deep, contented rumble vibrates from her chest. Her smoky breath curls through the kennel—a smell I’ve somehow come to find comforting.
My hand drifts down to one of her forepaws. Just a few days ago, I could cradle it in my palm. Now, it nearly swallows my hand whole.
She’s growing exactly the way she should. The problem is… she’s growing faster than I can keep up with.
A kennel was fine for an injured hatchling. It isn’t going to work for a curious young dragon who’ll soon need room to run, climb, and stretch her stumpy wings. Now that she’s healthy and growing, I’ll need to relocate her to my back yard.
Ring!
My enchanted communication tablet vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, narrowing my eyes at the screen. The crystal embedded in one corner glows softly as I tap my father’s name.
“Micah! How are you?”
“I’m okay, Dad.”
“How’s the little dragon?” Dad asks, his voice bright with curiosity.
“She’s perfect,” I say with a smile. “Eating everything in sight, gaining weight exactly like she should.”
It hadn’t surprised him in the slightest when I’d called last week to explain why I’d suddenly become the caretaker of an orphaned dragon hatchling.
