Page 5 of To Match A Dragon's Fire

She did it. Finally.

But fear snaked its way down my chest and squeezed, making my breath come short.

I needed to hurry. She could be in real danger this time.

Ember:Should I bring a shovel?

I was half-hoping she’d say yes as I pushed open the door to Marco’s office.

“Hey boss, I’ve got to clock out early.”

He glanced up in surprise. From his slumped position and disoriented expression, I assumed I’d caught him napping. Or maybe he was high.

“Tonight?” He leaned forward to look down the hall. The kitchen was in full swing and the rowdy noise from the bar had Brendon heading that way.

“Yes, tonight. There’s an emergency.” I turned to leave.

“If you walk out, you’re fired,” Marco called out as he scrambled to his feet.

I had a moment of panic while I quickly calculated the tips I’d earned this shift, knowing my final paycheck would be short. But I had enough.

This was it.

The universe was falling into alignment. No more excuses. Willow had been ready to go for months.

Maybe I should…

I straightened my shoulders.

It didn’t matter if I wasn’t ready to face my demons. My friends needed me to get over my issues.I couldn’t leave Riley alone after everything she’d been through.

She wouldn’t do that to me.

Riley and Willow were all I had in this world. I’d die before I let them down.

“Thanks for everything, Sofia.” I dropped my apron into the laundry bin.

“You’re done?” She stood at the grill, watching as Marco fumed while he marched down the hall, shouting at me for being a lousy bitch. Tears filled Sofia’s eyes as she swatted her spatula in the air. “Go on. Get out of here then.”

I nodded, trying not to let the anxiety and emotions overwhelm me as I stepped into the alley.

Marco slammed the door shut after screaming a few other choice words at my back. I left my lighter on the crate by the dumpster for Brendon and had almost made it to the parking lot when her next text came through.

Riley:We might need the shovel this time.

2

Kieran

Dragon Tales

My axe hit its mark, splitting the log in two. I pulled the handle, freeing the blade, and spun the wood round so the two halves were horizontal before I swung again.

Four cuts fell to the ground in perfect synchronization, almost in tune with the classical crescendo playing through my earbuds.

I grabbed each piece of split wood and tossed them into the pile to be stacked. The song changed to Für Elise just as I heaved another cut round onto the chopping block. I readied my axe, feeling my muscles tense and release to the haunting notes, and took another swing.

Bark chips flew as sweat dripped down my back and dried in the cool night air. The floodlights of the compound illuminated my work area, though I didn’t need them to see. They were lit as a beacon for the shadows circling overhead. A lighthouse of sorts when my home was anything but.

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