The Last Dragon Lord

XII

XII

Frog paced around the edge of his pond. The studio was still in shambles from his fight with the crew, and he preferred to leave it that way—the shattered cameras, the broken glass, the overturned tables and chairs, the rack lights hanging down like black zigzags across the blue screen—silent aftermath. His rage often got him into trouble, but this time it was right. He had orbited the pond at least two hundred times. He was keeping count. Another hundred and he might pay for his anger with the right amount of after-patience, something his father taught him. Now there was a dragon that had terrible anger. His father would have destroyed the building and walked away without a single flesh wound.

This was the first round of thoughts since his meditation. He pushed them out of his mind as he noticed quiet birdsong.

The birds had returned. They always flew away during his fits, and their return signaled that he was finally in an okay place mentally to stop pacing after another hundred laps. A black and white bird with a splotch of red on its breast landed on his leg and he smiled as it pecked a clump of suet off one of his warts. Then it flew up into a quick arc and landed on the ground near the pond.

He looked up into the sky as dragonflies crisscrossed his head. Exhaling, he continued his laps, all one hundred of them, and then he eased himself into the cold water, which bubbled around him as he submerged up to his eyes. He closed them for a moment and let himself drift on the gentle waves of the pond. Joy overwhelmed him as he experienced complete emptiness—his body in the water, the water eddying around his eyes, the birds singing, the dragonflies buzzing, the distant drone of planes and helicopters in the air above, the whispering breeze lapping the surface of the water.

When he opened his eyes, Norwyn was standing on the edge of the pond, watching him. Rather, he was a hologram projected by a white orb that hovered over the dragon’s head. It blinked and glitched as the white dragon’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re enjoying yourself, it seems,” Norwyn said.

Frog climbed out of the water and shook himself dry.

“On a day like this, one needs his after-patience,” he said.

“How about before-patience?” Norwyn asked. “That would have prevented this. Two hundred and fifty thousand, by the way.”

“Two hundred and fifty thousand what?”

“Spiras,” Norwyn said. “That’s how much your little temper tantrum cost.”

Frog’s face hardened. “Shall I try for more?”

“Try for zero.”

“What was I supposed to do, bend over and lift my tail for ‘em?” Frog asked.

Norwyn snorted. “I can’t keep bailing you out every time you get upset. If you had seriously hurt someone, I wouldn’t have been able to interfere.”

“Our dragon pact supersedes Abstraction,” Frog said. “You’ven’t forgotten, have you?”

“No. But Abstraction has its limits,” Norwyn said. “This isn’t the old days. Don’t put me a position where I can’t honor my promise to your father.”

“What’s it like, your Abstraction?” Frog asked. “You don’t look in the best of health, if you don’t mind me sayin’.”

Norwyn stood and his hologram began to walk around the edge of the water.

“I’m fine. When you reach old age, you’ll understand. As for my Abstraction, it’s better than death. Justice has its unique challenges.”

“Since you’re the guardian of justice, why don’t you go after the ones what tried to stop me?” Frog asked. “That’s obstruction of free speech.”

“They didn’t obstruct you,” Norwyn said. “If they had, maybe you’d have an argument.”

Frog sighed. He’d wanted the white dragon to do more for him, fight for him. Norwyn at least owed him that. He was the only one left who understood the old days. Frog felt foolish when he realized that one day, Norwyn might not be able to help him. And then he’d be truly on his own, and his next encounter with society might not end so well. He croaked at the thought, and a hiccup exploded from his throat.

“I’ve paid half your debt,” Norwyn said. “The other half will come from your equity. The networks will accept no less, so if you have to raise rent and prices for a time, that’s what you’ll have to do. And don’t worry about the CEO. She handed in her resignation so you’re free to choose someone else.”

“I thanks you very much,” Frog said.

Norwyn’s face was blank. He glanced around the destroyed studio and shook his head.

“I heard your broadcasts about Old Dark, you know.”

Frog chuckled. “Eh? Were they accurate?”

Norwyn stepped among the broken furniture and set his sight on a microphone laying on the ground.

“You said something has awakened. Do you believe it?”

“From the bottom of my warts. Don’t you?”

“I sensed it, too,” Norwyn said. “A few days ago.”

“You don’t think it was … him, do you?” Frog asked, smiling.

Norwyn shrugged. Frog expected the white dragon to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept looking around the studio with his cobalt eyes.

“Did you check the bog yourself?” Frog asked. “It’s too difficult to tell if that was the spot.”

“My dislocation spell was too strong even for me,” Norwyn said. “I last saw the tomb one hundred and fifty years ago. I ran into trouble and needed money from the coffers. He was alive then.”

“Might he still be alive?” Frog asked.

“Maybe,” Norwyn said. “If the curse didn’t completely destroy him by now.”

“You don’t blame yourself anymore, do you?” Frog asked. “For not being able to break the spell?”

He reached out to put a hand on Norwyn’s shoulder but forgot it was a hologram. His hand went through the white dragon and the hologram flickered.

Norwyn puffed. “Not any more than your father did. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s fate.”

“What about it?”

“It’s unpredictable,” Norwyn said. “He’s going to wake up. It’s just a matter of when.”

The silver orb beeped and the small projector cut off, ending Norwyn’s hologram. The orb rose further into the air. Norwyn’s voice remained.

“Take care of yourself, Frog. And stay low for a while, will you?”

“I’ll try.”

Norwyn flew through the pink membrane surrounding the roof and disappeared.

Frog stared after him for a while, and when the white orb vanished behind a skyscraper, he waved his webbed hands, sending wisps of magic across the roof, and he started putting everything back to together again.