The Last Dragon Lord

XXVI

XXVI

Dark would not let Frog go from his embrace, so much that Frog coughed and said, “Were you planning on ever letting me go?”

Dark hadn’t realized how long he had been hanging on. He let go and said, “Well, my boy, this has been such a pleasant surprise for me that I was savoring the moment.”

Frog stepped back and Dark got a good look at the area. The studio in the distance was the same as the one he’d seen on television. Above, a magical pink dome glowed and insinuated itself against the morning sky. Dark was impressed with the magical craft and construction.

And Frog himself! He was gigantic, but he still looked the same even though his boyish face was long gone. He had green scales, warty underchin and big, bug-like eyes. A specimen right out of the bog, right out of history!

“I want to know everything you know,” Dark said. “Am I really in the future?”

“Ya,” Frog said. “A thousand years’ve passed. A thousand long springs.”

Dark frowned. “I thought as much, my boy, I thought as much.”

“But how did you wake up?” Frog asked. “The curse was too strong even for a dragon to break.”

Dark strolled over to the pond and lay in the grass, sighing as the sunlight washed down on him.

“Ah, the bog,” Dark said. “What I wouldn’t give to be back in the real place, though I must say, I am impressed with your magical ability. And speaking of magical ability, that’s the answer to your question.”

“What?”

“A group of elves freed me,” Dark said. “A Miri Charmwell and a Lucan Grimoire.”

Frog croaked. “That can’t be. Charmwell’s a prestigious professor and Grimoire is runnin’ for governor here in the city.”

“Indeed,” Dark said. “It was disgusting to me, too, being held in captivity by elves.”

Dark snorted and closed his eyes, shaking his head. His eye socket hurt and he dipped a claw in the water and spread it across his eyelid.

“They were terrible, Frog. Terrible! They would corral a god, and they would do it in a large cage, with a metal cast on my face and six crude meals a day—”

“Where did they keep ya?” Frog asked, his eyes narrowing.

“I believe they referred to it as a factory,” Dark said.

“I knew there was more to Grimoire than he was letting on.”

“Don’t worry, Frog,” Dark said, grinning. “He’ll soon be dead.”

Frog growled. “Now listen up and listen well. You can’t go killin’ folk like you used to. It ain’t the old times anymore.”

Dark’s face hardened and he opened his eyes. Who was this boy to tell him what he couldn’t do?

“We’ve got laws,” Frog said. “Hurt somebody and they’ve’ll lock you away. Maybe’ve even kill you.”

“What have I to lose?” Dark asked. “And though it’s been a thousand years, you’ll do well to curb your tone and refer to me by my true title, boy.”

“That’s what’ve been tryin’ to tell you. Titles are no longer relevant. You’ve—”

Dark’s claw seized on Frog’s tie, and he pulled the dragon close, growling.

“You listen to me,” he said. “I won’t be denied what’s owed to me. I fall asleep and you think I’ll become soft, let this world keep spinning without my opinion as if I’m just some mere dragon elder? No, no—I may have lost an eye, my body may have been busted, and I may have lost my power, but I am risen again, Frog, and I will rise even higher than before. Do you understand me? Because if you were anyone else, your throat would be on the ground.”

Frog stammered. Dark studied the river dragon’s face and his worry displeased him.

He’s forgotten the teachings. It’s to be expected. He’ll have to be cowed into order, and I’ll not be soft.

“Do you understand me, Frog?” Dark asked.

Frog nodded. “But you’ll do well to remember that I’m the one what been livin’ in this place. I can help ya navigate. But you’ve got to hear me—this world doesn’t work like the old times. It’s more complex, in a manner of speaking.”

Dark clapped the dragon on the back. “That’s why I have you. There’ll be more rewards in store for you when this is all over, my river dragon. Yes, indeed. I feel terrible that you’ve had to live like this, among humans and elves. They don’t see your true potential like I do. Like my father did.”

Frog sat in the grass and sighed wistfully. “I suppose they don’t.”

“There are ways of making the world respect you, Frog,” Dark said. “I have much to teach you. But tell me: is it true about my parents? The palace?”

“All true.”

Dark grimaced. “I failed my mother and my father. I should have eased their suffering. I should have listened to my advisors.…”

“No point lookin’ back to the past when the future’s here in front of ya,” Frog said.

“Well said. It is my understanding that the coward Fenroot is in hiding, is he not?”

“I ain’t seen him. Not since that day.”

“What day?”

“Since he attacked me and my father.”

His father. Toad. Frog had forgotten all about the big, lumbering brute that served as his body guard.

“Why, you are a duplicate image of your dear old father,” Dark said. “Where is Toad?”

Frog lowered his eyes. “He’s dead.”

“Dead!”

“Right around the time they attacked you,” Frog said. “Fenroot and Moss searched for any dragons who were loyal to you, and they eradicated ‘em. Many dragons went into hiding. Anyone with ties to the Dark regime was a target.”

Dark shook with anger.

“My father, he refused to hide,” Frog said sadly. “Said it wasn’t worth hidin’ for what you believed in. He stood up to Fenroot the Brute, chased him out of our bog many times. But one night the dragon came and...and...”

“Tell me, Frog.”

“He used my father’s rage against him,” Frog said. “As my father was chasin’ him, Moss sprang out of nowhere and threw a bucket of tar on ‘im.”

The image of a giant dragon covered in tar angered Dark even further.

“He couldn’t see. And Moss mocked him the whole time. Called him a dumb animal, no smarter’n a cow. And father kept getting madder, but he couldn’t see, slammin’ into the trees. Moss covered him in feathers an’ bones, and then he set my dad on fire in front of my eyes. I’ll never forget how he laughed as my father burned. And he looked at me and said ‘Be a treasure to society, you stupid river dragon, or this is what awaits you.’”

“I’m sorry, Frog,” Dark said. “I know what an important figure he was to you.”

Frog roared at Dark. “He was the only figure what for this river dragon! I held’m in my arms and I tried to wipe the tar away from his eyes, but it was magicked and it wouldn’t come off. I’ve nightmares every day of my life with his dead, charred face in my arms. And I’ve hid, stayed to myself for fear that one day I’d end up like him. But now, Lord Dark, I couldn’t care about what happens to me. I’m just ‘stupid old Frog’. They mock me in the streets, they mock me on television, and many times I’ve thought about jumpin’ off this building and not lettin’ my wings carry me, as punishment for these nine hundred years of cowardice.”

“That in and of itself would be a coward’s path, Frog. Did my father teach you nothing?”

“The only teachings I ever followed are the ones what kept me alive,” Frog growled. “I’ve much to teach you.”

“Moss will pay dearly for what he did to Toad,” Dark said. “Rest assured, Frog. He is in the city, is he not?”

Frog nodded.

“And what is this I hear about him having two daughters?”

“Two spoiled brats is more like it.”

Dark laughed. “Oh, yes! That was very clear in the advertisement I saw. I could have clawed my remaining eye out at the mere sight of the filthy little offspring! Dragons like Moss should not be allowed to procreate. But oh my, I am monologuing again. Frog, dispel your sulking because I need your help.”

“Help doing what?”

“Just now I have come up with a plan.”

Dark put his arm around the river dragon. “My boy, it’s time for a little old-fashioned evil.”