Dragonskin Slippers by Jessica Day George Read Free Book Online Page A

the pool, giving me a better view. As dogs went, he was larger than most. In fact, I was willing to bet there were few ponies that could match up to this leggy animal. He was long and narrow, mostly white with a couple of large black patches on his head and back, and he had a long, bushy tail. The woolly fur on his chest was matted with something red and sticky and he was drooling red as well. At first I thought it was blood, and almost averted my eyes in disgust, but then I noticed a definite pinkish hue that was not found in nature.
    “Bad dog,” Feniul reasserted, coming back into the frame of the enchanted pool. “He’s broken into a bag of mallow sweets and eaten them all,” the green dragon said with frustration. “No matter where I hide my sweets, he finds them within a day. He’s going to make himself sick!” The enormous beast sounded near to tears.
    Azarte, apparently sated, laid his long body down alongside his enormous master and heaved a great sigh. In a matter of seconds he was sound asleep and snoring.
    “Yes, well, that’s too bad, Feniul,” Shardas said when it became clear that the other dragon was going to be clucking and fussing over his dog for some time. “But I had better go and figure out what to do with this human maid now.”
    “What? Oh, yes! Why was it you picked up that human?” Feniul’s attention was pulled away from his dogs with an effort.
    “For reasons that I will explain to you at a later date,” Shardas said. “Perhaps.” And he stirred the pool with one long claw, breaking up the image of his (distant) cousin.
    Shardas heaved a sigh not unlike Azarte’s and turned to me. My knees started shaking again. No matter how many hours I spent conversing pleasantly with dragons, they were still
dragons
: mighty, ferocious damsel-eaters, if the legends were to be believed, although, according to Shardas, at least, they weren’t.
    I bit my lip as I looked up at Shardas. He blew smoke out of his nostrils and looked down at me.
    “You want to go to the King’s Seat,” he stated finally.
    “Yes, sir,” I said in a small voice.
    “I’m not going to hurt you,” he told me gently. “I’m trying to figure out what the best and safest way will be for you to take. What are your plans, again?”
    “I want to find work embroidering,” I said. I pulled the gladiolus-decorated handkerchief from my pocket and held it up.
    He lowered his head and studied it with one sapphire eye, then the other. He reared back after a moment’s scrutiny and nodded at me.
    “I am not a collector of fine embroidery,” he admitted, “but it looks well made to me.”
    “Thank you. My mother was very skilled, and she taught me.”
    “What do you think you will need in order to findwork of this kind?” For a dragon he had a very practical mind.
    “Better samples of my work than this dirty handkerchief,” I said after thinking for a moment. “I had some embroidered scarves and woven sashes, but I’ve had to trade them all in return for food or lodging. I need to have different types of embroidery to display, to prove that I know the various techniques. I don’t have the cloth to make a dress or anything, so I suppose my own gown will have to do, to show my skill with plain work.” I sighed at this: my gown was an uninspiring brown colour and not new.
    “I see.” Shardas nodded thoughtfully. “What do you require in order to make more embroidery?”
    “Just some time.” I shrugged. “I have some linen and a lot of yarn and embroidery floss in my pack.” Then I looked up at him in dismay. “My pack!”
    “Your pack is right over there,” he reassured me, pointing with a long claw.
    “Oh, thank you!”
    “You are welcome. Take all the time you need. I shall not charge you for bed and board, as your people say. And when you are ready, I shall take you to the King’s Seat myself.” He nodded his great head.
    “A thousand thank-yous,” I said, tears pricking my eyes. Then a thought