Hey, NaNo NaNo!
I feel I might possibly owe you horrible lot another NaNo chapter. So here you go, the next chapter of Dragon Control, as it is now called; A Hole In The Mountainside was only a placeholder until I thought up something better.
This is possibly my least favourite chapter is the whole novel, because I'm trying to casually work in back story while making it sound like dialogue. I also had a minor case of writer's block while putting this one together, so if it feels a bit stilted to you...that's why.
Chapter 8
Madeleine was standing outside the Bakehouse staring at the time on her cellphone when Bryn arrived out of breath.
“I’m so sorry!” he panted, running up to her. “You’ll never believe what’s happened…that’s why I’m late…dragons…at work…never believe…”
“Don’t fret, you’re not that late!” Madeleine said loudly, cutting over top of him. Bryn sighed in relief.
“Is that a cellphone?” he asked, pointing. “Hell, I haven’t seen one of those in years.”
“Oh, yeah,” Madeleine replied, pocketing the item in question. “I’ve had it since I was like seventeen…hey, it’s not broke, so why would I replace it?”
“Fair point. Shall we go in?”
Trudy’s Bakehouse was one of the few old-fashioned bakeries left in New Zealand. Inside, it was badly-lit and had the feeling of a relatively nice place gone slightly to seed. The space was randomly littered with plastic lawn tables and an odd assortment of accompanying chairs. The self-serve cabinets were tarnished by years of use, but at the very least they were clean. The food inside, while plain, was certainly palatable.
Bryn grabbed a tray, two plates and a pair of stainless steel tongs. He picked out a ham and egg sandwich and a Neenish tart - a treat with some nostalgic value for him. His grandmother used to make them for him when he visited her in his childhood.
Behind him, Madeleine helped herself to a mince and cheese pie and a custard square. They both got bottles of Coca Cola out of the cooler and deposited their trays before the unsmiling old man at the counter.
“I’ll get yours,” said Bryn, pulling out his wallet.
“Oh no, you don’t have to-“ Madeleine said, scrabbling for hers.
“-It’s the least I can do for making you wait-“
“-No, I insist, I’ll pay for myself-“
“-I want to, please-“
“-Oh, if you must-“
“-I mean it…what? Oh. Great, thank you,” Bryn said, his face slightly flushed.
The man behind the counter made a grumpy noise in his throat. “Together, is it?” he asked tetchily, fingers hovering above the touch-interface.
“Yes, please. Together,” Bryn said, starting to feel uncomfortable.
“Right,” said the man in a clipped tone. His finger blurred across the screen. “That’ll be sixteen bucks eighty.”
Bryn handed over a twenty, took his change with the remains of his dignity and shambled over to a free table. The few diners that were already sitting and eating their lunches directed their attentions back on their meals, chewing away with bovine grace. For some of them, the flustered little argument had been the most exciting thing they’d witnessed all day.
Bryn sensed their eyes and coughed lightly. “Sorry if I embarrassed you; that wasn’t my intention. Um.”
“What? Oh, don’t even think about it! My life is made up of little moments like that. They don’t bother me at all.”
“Not even a little bit?”
“Not even a little bit,” said Madeleine, biting into her pie and prompting a shower of pastry flakes to fall on the plate. “So, tell me about this big, exciting event that’s responsible for you being twenty minutes late to lunch?”
“I said I was sorry!”
“That you did, but that’s not what I asked for,” said Madeleine, grinning cheekily.
Intermittently, between bites of ham and egg sandwich and swigs of Coke, Bryn related to her the events of the morning and the past few days. She watched him intently the whole time through her splendid, magnifirous glasses and didn't speak until he was done.
“-And that's why I was late to lunch,” said Bryn, munching on the last of his sandwich.
“Alright, fair fight, you are forgiven.”
“Much obliged.”
Silence reigned for a while, of the sort where neither party is entirely sure of where to take the conversation next. In the end, it was Bryn who picked up the ball and plunged onwards with it.
“You know, I tend to keep this to myself, but my granna was one of the people who went up Pirongia and found the dragon eggs fifty years ago,” he said, making a start on his Neenish tart.
Madeleine's eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? That's an over-abundance of awesome right now. She must be pretty stoked you're working with dragons.”
Bryn laughed at the memory of his granna's face when he first told her he was going to be studying dracology at Waikato University. “Yeah, she's fairly pleased with the whole deal. She's like me, as far as dragons go; she adores them. We're the only ones in my family like that.” He sighed. “Maybe that's why I get along better with her than the rest of them.”
“You don't get along with your family?” Madeleine asked concernedly.
“Oh, it's not that. I just said I get along with her better than the rest of them. She's the only other person I know who keeps a dragon in her house: a leatherback who spends half his life in her lounge and half his life in the gully down the back of the property.”
Madeleine waved a finger, indicating she would be speaking if not for the treacherous custard square she was hurriedly dispatching. “I had a dragon-”
Bryn cut across her quickly. “Sorry, not meaning to be rude, but no you didn't. You don't have a dragon in the same way you have a cat or a dog. Okay, continue, I just wanted to clarify that.” For a moment, he feared that he'd come across rude, but her eyes merely sparkled with a special kind of humour.
“I'll remember that. I won't make that mistake again. Well, one way or another, I used to live out in the wops of Wellington, and there was a leatherback who used to come by my house and beg for kitchen scraps.” She smiled at the thought. “I was about six at the time. I used to sneak out whatever I could for him. Chicken bones, potato scraps, whatever I could find. You name it, he’d eat it. Of course, my mum freaked when she found out and had him sent away…”
“She didn’t know?” asked Bryn, amused.
“Well, no. He was my secret dragon friend.” Madeleine frowned. “My first friend, you might say. I don’t know, does that sound weird? That might sound weird.”
Bryn shook his head fervently. “It would be hypocritical for me to say so; my best friend is a dragon. I sometimes think he’s better company than a lot of the people I know. Oh, I didn’t mean-“
“I know you didn’t. You needn’t jump to the defence so quickly; you keep doing that.”
“I know, I’m sorry-“
“You’re doing it again.”
Bryn heaved an over-dramatic sigh. “Maybe it would be best if I stopped talking.”
Madeleine slapped the table, making its contents rattle. “No! That defeats the whole purpose of this get-together. You were meant to tell me more about dragons, remember? So far you’ve only told me what’s going on now. You haven’t told me about their history or anything like that.”
Bryn glanced at the clock. “I don’t have a whole lot of time. I kind of need to get back-“
“-Talk fast. That’s what I do!”
“I noticed. Well, like I said at the school the other day, our knowledge of dragons pre-1970s is limited to a few paintings done in the Middle Ages. Before then, we regarded these paintings as flights of fancy, creatures of myth and imagination. After all, the concept of a huge, flying, fire-breathing lizard is not one that sits particularly well in the brain, if you know what I mean.” He paused; Madeleine nodded, urging him to go on.
“Once we found the eggs though, it became clear that what we thought were fanciful designs were actually depictions of reality. The history of dragons is still being pieced together, but we think around that time, the Middle Ages, dragons went extinct. They faded into legend…until 1976.”
“Why New Zealand?” asked Madeleine. “Why here?”
“A question the country’s first and foremost dracologists have been struggling with for a long time. New Zealand is a young country; people have only been here a few hundred years. For centuries, it was untouched by human hands. We think the last dragons came here because they were being hunted down and killed in other parts of the world. Then they found a suitable place for their eggs - Pirongia Mountain - and laid them there for safe keeping.”
“Can you imagine being alive then? I mean…when people were just getting used to the idea that dragons weren’t fairy tales any more?” said Madeleine, her eyes glazing.
“I sometimes think I was born fifty years too late,” said Bryn, nodding in agreement. “But then, it did take people to warm to the idea, you know?”
“I’ve heard the stories. Some people wanted them culled on the spot.”
“Thank God they didn’t. I mean, if it wasn’t for the Greens fighting for a law change to keep dragons safe, a lot more probably would have been killed. As it is, maxies are almost extinct because they were so hated in the early days. I mean, they’re hated now but at least people know halfway how to deal with them after fifty years.”
“People do stupid things when they’re scared.”
“And they get scared when they’re confused. Finding dragons up Pirongia was pretty damn confusing, I’d imagine.”
“That’s what you’re worried about now, aren’t you?” Madeleine asked quietly. “Things are changing, just as everyone got used to having dragons around. Suddenly they’re breathing fire and acting out…”
“…And if Davs is right, this’ll all lead to more dragons,” Bryn sighed. “I’m not sure how people will take that.”
Madeleine dragged a fingertip through the custard square crumbs on her plate and popped them in her mouth. “I can see your point. What do you think they’ll do?”
“I shudder to think. Somehow, I just know there’ll be tears before the end.”
There was a pause as Bryn sipped his Coke.
“I want to hear about something more interesting now: you,” said Madeleine, with a toothy grin which reminded him disconcertingly of Chalk.
He let out a surprised laugh. “Me, more interesting than dragons? Impossible.”
“Rubbish.”
Bryn fidgeted, feeling embarrassed heat creeping up his neck. He could talk dragons for hours, but talking about himself was a whole different story. “Look, another time maybe. I need to get back before long, I left Davs holding the fort.” Shut up, idiot! Will you listen to yourself? A woman is showing interest in you of her own free will! The last time that happened was when you swallowed Aunt Doris’ diamond ring at The Unmentionable Christmas Incident of 2008!
“You haven’t finished your Neenish tart, though,” Madeleine pointed out.
“Because you keep on distracting me!” Bryn said, staring down at the remains of the sad little black-and-white tart.
“Eat it quickly, then we can walk and talk on the way back to the DoC office. Yes?”
Bryn caught himself about to resist just in time. It was his first reaction to clam up when attention was directed straight at him, unless dragons were involved. Meet me for lunch to discuss dragons? No problem. I’ll walk you back to the office and we can talk about you? Problematic.
“Sure, okay,” said Bryn in a small, tight voice. He smiled weakly and ate the rest of the tart in one bite.
“Good. Shall we go?” asked Madeleine, getting to her feet.
“Madeleine, wait-“ Bryn mumbled through a mouthful of pastry.
“Maddie,” she corrected. “Only my mother calls me Madeleine, and that’s when I’m in serious trouble.”
“Sorry,” Bryn said automatically.
“And stop apologising for everything!” Madeleine said, smothering a laugh.
“Sor- right.” Bryn coughed, standing up as well.
“Away at last!” Madeleine cried gleefully. “Onward!”
“Thank you,” Bryn called over his shoulder at the sour old man behind the counter, who merely glared back at him as though he’d insulted his mother.
They stepped out of the gloom of the bakery into the radiant afternoon sun and set off for the office. Madeleine let Bryn go a few steps in silence before clearing her throat in a pointed manner.
“Well?”
Bryn looked at her frantically. “Honestly, there’s not much to tell. I live alone in a Hamilton flat with a sulky black dragon called Chalk. I work for the Department of Conservation. I…studied dracology at Waikato University- ah, I’ve already told you that…I don’t know…” He trailed off with a little shrug.
“You’re making this whole thing far too difficult for yourself. Look, just begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end, then stop,” she said sagely. “That’s from Alice in Wonderland. Have you read it?”
“Um, no. I don’t tend to read a lot.”
“There you go, I’m learning things about you already! Carry on. Where were you born?”
“Here. Er, not here literally, as in on the side of the road,” - He was very relieved when Madeleine laughed at this - “I mean, in Hamilton. I’ve lived here my whole life. I-I guess that’s sort of weird.”
“Not weird at all,” Madeleine affirmed.
“I don’t know, it does seem strange to me. All my friends left for greener pastures years ago, to pursue higher education around the country and the world.”
“But in your defence, Waikato does have the best dracology qualification available anywhere. That has to count for something.”
“I guess it does. And also to my credit, I moved out the second I could; I’ve been completely independent since the age of nineteen.”
Madeleine frowned. “Do you not get along with your parents?”
“We need to cross the road here,” said Bryn vaguely before continuing. “And it’s not that I don’t get along with them, it’s just that I found them difficult people to live with. My mother refuses to leave me alone, even now. If she had her way, I’d have been paired off and married the day I turned sixteen-“ The mention of marriage in front of Madeleine made him falter awkwardly, but he plunged on. “-and my dad was the total opposite. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for me or my brother, I guess he was always a bit introverted. Never a big fan of people. He did all the dad stuff though, took Iain to his rugby games and me to my…school. I didn’t really get into sport as a kid, or now, even.”
“Neither. I presume Iain is your brother?”
“Yes.”
“Younger or older?”
“Older. By about eighteen months. He’s the favourite son, you might say-“
“-Hey, don’t talk like that!”
“Oh no, it doesn’t bother me. I don’t mind living in his shadow…not that I do, but if I did,” he corrected hurriedly, seeing the look on Madeleine’s face. “But honestly, from mum’s point of view, he’s married to a nice girl with a baby on the way, which satisfies her mother chicken ways. From dad’s point of view, he’s working as an accountant for a big firm in Auckland and so if you measure success by income, he’s pretty successful.”
“And how do you measure success?”
Bryn considered this for a while. “I’ve never really thought about it. For now, it’s placing one foot in front of the other and getting through my days. To a certain extent, it’s convincing people dragons aren’t all bad, except it looks as though that’s all about to go out the window…”
“You’d call that your unofficial mission in life, then?” Madeleine asked.
“You could say that, I suppose.” Bryn laughed a little. “I can’t remember the last time I talked about myself for such a long time.”
“Told you it wasn’t so difficult. You say you don’t like reading; what about other hobbies? Past-times?”
Bryn was sure his brain haemorrhaged at that moment. Caught out. Almost. He grabbed out, flailing, for a straw and hoped for the best.
“Erm. I kind of do this thing, I go along to SCA meetings. That stands for the Society of Creative…um…something, anyway. You know, swords and stuff? Some might find it weird, I don’t know, er.”
“Some might,” Madeleine concurred.
“You don’t?”
“I think everyone needs something they’re partially insane about,” Madeleine said passionately. “To keep them from going crazy, you know.”
“What’s yours, then? Your thing that stops you from losing your mind?”
“Hmm? Oh, collecting things. Old, antique things. You remarked on my cellphone earlier; that’s only the beginning, I can assure you.”
“Go on, what sort of things are we talking here?”
Madeleine shrugged. “Anything. I’m a compulsive hoarder. Although, I am particularly fond of electronics from the turn of the century. I have whole collections of old laptops, cellphones and MP3 players, back before everything went to touch-interface.”
“Whatever cranks your handle, I suppose,” Bryn said. He was gradually filling up with a warm feeling that came from having a long conversation with somebody, and just being happy in their company. It was not a feeling he’d been privy with for a long time. At least, not one he’d got from another human.
They continued to walk and talk, losing themselves in ever-increasingly more ridiculous topics of conversation - mostly courtesy of Madeleine - until they arrived at the DoC office, which took Bryn by surprise.
“Oh, we’re here,” he observed, blinking.
“So we are,” said Madeleine primly, trying not to laugh at his only too apparent shock.
“Guess I’d better get back to work, then,” Bryn said reluctantly.
“Can I come in? I’d like to meet this Davs character you’ve been telling me about-“
“-Another time, maybe,” said Bryn hastily, his mind once again flashing up images of what Davs’ reaction would be upon meeting Madeleine. “As you can probably tell, it’s not the best time for us right now.”
The excuse was lame, but Madeleine accepted it regardless. “True enough, I’d probably do nothing but get in the way and distract you.”
“You are more than welcome to get in the way and distract me some other time, Madel- Maddie. It’s been a pleasure to get to know you better,” said Bryn, a little stiff and awkward now their slightly extended lunch date was coming to an end.
“Likewise, I’m sure,” Madeleine said pompously, mirroring his manner and extending a hand for him to shake.
“Oh, be nice…” Bryn sighed, shaking her hand for no other reason than it was there.
“Always. Well, I’ll see you another time then, Bryn. If you don’t get fried to a cinder for getting in the way of a dragon courtship ritual, that is.”
“Thanks,” Bryn said dryly.
“You’re welcome. And don’t worry; I’d send a card to your family letting them know. Bye!” with that, she spun quickly on her heel and walked away, bouncing slightly with every step.
Bryn couldn’t stop himself from standing and watching her go before turning and, with a sigh, ducking into the darkness of the DoC office. He glanced at the time: he’d been over three-quarters of an hour at lunch, and he very much doubted Davs would be amused by that.
***
Indeed, Davs had been anything but amused and made no small point of informing Bryn as soon as he walked in about how the phone had been ringing off the hook since he left. On top of that, no less than eleven professional bloggers had got in contact about the media release, wanting information and comments from the supervising officer at New Zealand’s foremost dragon control centre. Along with the eight dracologists from Auckland who had also rung up to ask about the strange behaviour, Davs was starting to go spare.
It was Bryn’s idea to visit Pirongia to see what was going on with the dragons up there, partly to get Davs out of the office and the incessantly-ringing phone. As they drove, Davs was looking particularly haggard and drained.
“Everyone’s looking at us, Bryn. Do you realise that? They’re all watching us,” he said hoarsely, focusing on the road straight ahead of him. Bryn was very glad he was driving; Davs probably wouldn’t have noticed the corners.
“Davs, calm down. It’s not all bad.”
“Yeah, it is. It is. There are more dragons in the Waikato than there are anywhere else in New Zealand. Everyone has questions, and we’re right in the line of fire. Staring down the barrel…” Indeed, it looked as though Davs could see the barrel of the metaphorical gun pointed right between his eyes. “We don’t have enough people for this. Why don’t we have more people, Bryn? Why the hell are there only two of us?”
Bryn moistened his lips carefully before answering. “It’s never been necessary before, I suppose. The workload has always been acceptable for two people. Three when I first started, of course, but my point remains: we’ve never needed more before now.”
Davs smiled distantly. “That’s right; Ursula. I forgot she was still there when you started up. I guess she’d have had her baby by now. How long have you been working at DoC?”
“A little over a year.”
He chuckled, seeming to calm down a little. “That’s right! And you came out on a job with the two of us to stop that bloody maxie from demolishing Victoria Street - ah, there’s something that doesn’t happen every day.”
“Not that you’re complaining though, right?”
“God, no. People have long memories for that sort of thing; I reckon it’s still fresh in the minds of the people out shopping that day.”
“It’s stuck with me, that’s for sure,” Bryn admitted. There was something unforgettable about being forced to take cover in a handy sushi joint as talons - each the size of a loaf of bread - rake at the space you only very recently vacated. That was day four on the job for Bryn, and it was just lucky Davs and Ursula were quick on their toes and managed to bring the hulking beast down before it totally destroyed the sushi shop, and Bryn along with it. He had never seen a maxie before - or since - and that encounter had almost been his last with any dragon. Talk about on-the-job training.
“What a ruckus that was, huh?” Davs said with a humourless laugh. He watched the countryside rolling by his window for a few seconds, then said, “Still, it’s nothing compared to what’s going on now…at least it was only one maxie, not the whole goddamned population of dragons nationwide going apeshit at once…God. God, oh God, oh God. We need more people. We really, really need more people.” He buried his face in his hands and released a mangled yowling noise that might have been a disguised sob.
“Pull yourself together, will you?” said Bryn, gently but firmly. “If you fall apart, you leave me by myself and I don’t have your ability for organisation. I need you in this.” Bryn desperately hoped this tactic would work: Davs liked to know he was needed; that he knew better than others around him. It wasn’t that he was egotistical, but enjoyed preening his feathers like a bird of paradise.
“Of course, Bryn. You would be nothing without my expertise in the matter, wouldn’t you?” He sounded serious enough, but Bryn knew him well enough to pick up on the teasing tone.
“We need to keep our heads over this whole affair, that’s all. And if necessary, maybe we can get some of the other departments in the building to chip in.”
Davs snorted derisively. “What, those silly buggers who spend all their time staring at moss and lichen, and filling in skink translocation forms that are longer than the road outside the office? God forbid we should ever be so desperate.”
“I’m just saying, you’re probably right and we won’t be able to handle things on our own,” said Bryn delicately.
“Hmmph,” Davs grumped. Bryn decided - wisely, perhaps - to leave him to his thoughts.
Soon enough the hybrid car was crunching the gravel in the Pirongia carpark. Before they even hauled themselves out, it was obvious something was up. The dragons Bryn had observed only days ago lounging about in the sun with a distinctively regal air were chasing and circling each other, snapping and snarling, engaging with each other for a few seconds before tearing away down the hill in a flurry of thundering wings and angry hissing noises. They paid the two bewildered men clambering out of the car absolutely no heed as they galloped and scrambled through the scrubby grass, which - Bryn noted with some discomfort - was singed in places here and there.
As they watched, entranced, two green-flecked leatherbacks launched themselves into the air as they raced down the mountain, their wings pulling hard to fight the pull of gravity. They continued their dance in the air, pirouetting and twisting with a grace which belied their cumbersome appearances. Leatherbacks were not known for their aerial proficiency, since they spent most of their lives in the close air of the New Zealand bush. But here they were, elegant and streamlined in the sky like a pair of darters - which were known for their aerial proficiency.
“Quite beautiful to watch, isn’t it?” Davs breathed. Bryn didn’t respond. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but rather that he couldn’t spare the brain power to speak because he needed every ounce to take in the sight before him.
They both jumped as a bolt of flame flared suddenly and brilliantly against the blue of the sky. The other dragon did a barrel-roll to avoid the blast, and Bryn was struck by a moment of clarity. They used the fire breath as a display - that much they could tell from Chalk and the rockhopper back at the office - and also as a way of telling whether their dance partner was spry enough to avoid getting crisped. In so far as he could tell with his limited experience with dragon breeding habits, Bryn thought the two leatherbacks were getting on quite well.
“That’s what Chalk did, too,” Davs said, shaking Bryn’s elbow. “She hit him with a burst of flame breath and he ran for it. I’d say she wasn’t too impressed by that-“
“-Chalk is not a girl,” Bryn said automatically.
“You just don’t want to admit your little winged missus really is a missus!” Davs smirked. “Look, it makes sense, okay? Take these two right here. The male tries to tell the female he’s a bit of alright with some fancy fire breathing…oop, there he goes.” At that moment the dragon in question released a curling tongue of fire, the purpose of which seemed to be a lot more decorative than its more explosive predecessor. “See? That was a lot frillier than the one the female produced, because she’s trying to suss out whether or not he’s a good prospect for her. Come on, I’m right. Admit it.”
“It does all follow, but…” Bryn said, reluctance dripping off every syllable.
“But what?”
“But admitting that means admitting to the fact that you were right about Chalk, and the fact that I really do have a little winged missus.” He winced to say it; the words weren’t pleasant.
Davs shrugged. “Can I help it if I’m right?”
“No, but I’m going to hold off on giving you the satisfaction of hearing me say that until I’m absolutely certain.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Sorry. Oh look - show’s over.” The two dragons were descending to earth, spiralling gently as though they were both being sucked down a whirlpool. When their feet touched ground they sniffed each other quietly for a few minutes, all traces of their former rowdiness completely gone. Then, they parted ways in a placid manner as though nothing had happened.
“I guess dragons don’t go in for any wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am,” said Davs breezily.
“Poetic,” Bryn remarked snidely.
Just then, there was an explosion from the direction of the summit above them and a pair of darters erupted from the foliage. The light flashed off their smooth, granite-coloured scales like the reflection of the morning sun across the surface of a lake. Their flight patterns were far more intricate than those of the comparatively clumsy leatherbacks; the sky really belonged to the darter. They whirled in tight circles, spraying flames like an overexcited, scaly Catherine wheel.
Bryn watched the displays with lightness in his heart, forgetting for a few wonderful minutes of his responsibilities, his job. He didn’t think of what this new development would mean for him, or for the district, the country...his only thoughts were about the twirling creatures around him, all over the mountain, each locked in their own heads by old instincts.
“I can’t see how anyone can’t love these things. I just...can’t,” Bryn whispered, taken by the vision.
“It’s beyond me, too. It never ceases to amaze me how little contact people have with dragons, even though they inhabit the same places; here, especially. There’s no excuse for people living in the Waikato.”
“Somehow, they find them, though...” Bryn trailed off, distracted.
“I know we’re meant to be blazing some kind of path for the country, and tell the rest of New Zealand what they should be doing - something like that anyway - but in truth, I have no idea what our next move is. The strange thing is, I don’t mind that so much.”
The two darters crashed back down into the foliage and went out of sight.
“Really?” asked Bryn. “That doesn’t sound like you at all.”
Davs grunted. “Don’t think I’m going soft or hippyish like you, mind. I was just making an observation, is all.”
Bryn made a non-committal noise in his throat. “Of course you were. But in all honesty, what is our next move?”
Davs shrugged in response. “In all honesty, I’m not sure. Keep doing what we’re doing, I suppose. Keep monitoring our guests, sending out media releases and stay in contact with bloggers and dracologists seeking information. After all, we need to keep connected.”
Bryn felt like pointing out that that wasn’t what Davs was saying when he picked him up earlier that day, but let it slide. He sat down on the grass, enjoying the play of cool wind against his face and feeling more peaceful than he had in a long time. Presently, Davs sat down, too. They stayed this way for several minutes until Davs finally leant forwards with a heavy sigh.
“I suppose we should be heading back. I just know there’ll be a pile of messages as tall as me, but it needs to be done.”
“I admire your attitude,” said Bryn. “Say, have you eaten anything?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t had a chance. I was barely able to keep up with the incoming calls, let alone being able to feed myself.”
“In that case, we’ll pick you up something on the way there, then we can go through the paperwork together. How does that sound?”
“Ideal. And cheers, for getting me out of the office. I feel a lot better, now. How did you know?”
Bryn shrugged. “It always works for me.”
This is possibly my least favourite chapter is the whole novel, because I'm trying to casually work in back story while making it sound like dialogue. I also had a minor case of writer's block while putting this one together, so if it feels a bit stilted to you...that's why.
Chapter 8
Madeleine was standing outside the Bakehouse staring at the time on her cellphone when Bryn arrived out of breath.
“I’m so sorry!” he panted, running up to her. “You’ll never believe what’s happened…that’s why I’m late…dragons…at work…never believe…”
“Don’t fret, you’re not that late!” Madeleine said loudly, cutting over top of him. Bryn sighed in relief.
“Is that a cellphone?” he asked, pointing. “Hell, I haven’t seen one of those in years.”
“Oh, yeah,” Madeleine replied, pocketing the item in question. “I’ve had it since I was like seventeen…hey, it’s not broke, so why would I replace it?”
“Fair point. Shall we go in?”
Trudy’s Bakehouse was one of the few old-fashioned bakeries left in New Zealand. Inside, it was badly-lit and had the feeling of a relatively nice place gone slightly to seed. The space was randomly littered with plastic lawn tables and an odd assortment of accompanying chairs. The self-serve cabinets were tarnished by years of use, but at the very least they were clean. The food inside, while plain, was certainly palatable.
Bryn grabbed a tray, two plates and a pair of stainless steel tongs. He picked out a ham and egg sandwich and a Neenish tart - a treat with some nostalgic value for him. His grandmother used to make them for him when he visited her in his childhood.
Behind him, Madeleine helped herself to a mince and cheese pie and a custard square. They both got bottles of Coca Cola out of the cooler and deposited their trays before the unsmiling old man at the counter.
“I’ll get yours,” said Bryn, pulling out his wallet.
“Oh no, you don’t have to-“ Madeleine said, scrabbling for hers.
“-It’s the least I can do for making you wait-“
“-No, I insist, I’ll pay for myself-“
“-I want to, please-“
“-Oh, if you must-“
“-I mean it…what? Oh. Great, thank you,” Bryn said, his face slightly flushed.
The man behind the counter made a grumpy noise in his throat. “Together, is it?” he asked tetchily, fingers hovering above the touch-interface.
“Yes, please. Together,” Bryn said, starting to feel uncomfortable.
“Right,” said the man in a clipped tone. His finger blurred across the screen. “That’ll be sixteen bucks eighty.”
Bryn handed over a twenty, took his change with the remains of his dignity and shambled over to a free table. The few diners that were already sitting and eating their lunches directed their attentions back on their meals, chewing away with bovine grace. For some of them, the flustered little argument had been the most exciting thing they’d witnessed all day.
Bryn sensed their eyes and coughed lightly. “Sorry if I embarrassed you; that wasn’t my intention. Um.”
“What? Oh, don’t even think about it! My life is made up of little moments like that. They don’t bother me at all.”
“Not even a little bit?”
“Not even a little bit,” said Madeleine, biting into her pie and prompting a shower of pastry flakes to fall on the plate. “So, tell me about this big, exciting event that’s responsible for you being twenty minutes late to lunch?”
“I said I was sorry!”
“That you did, but that’s not what I asked for,” said Madeleine, grinning cheekily.
Intermittently, between bites of ham and egg sandwich and swigs of Coke, Bryn related to her the events of the morning and the past few days. She watched him intently the whole time through her splendid, magnifirous glasses and didn't speak until he was done.
“-And that's why I was late to lunch,” said Bryn, munching on the last of his sandwich.
“Alright, fair fight, you are forgiven.”
“Much obliged.”
Silence reigned for a while, of the sort where neither party is entirely sure of where to take the conversation next. In the end, it was Bryn who picked up the ball and plunged onwards with it.
“You know, I tend to keep this to myself, but my granna was one of the people who went up Pirongia and found the dragon eggs fifty years ago,” he said, making a start on his Neenish tart.
Madeleine's eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? That's an over-abundance of awesome right now. She must be pretty stoked you're working with dragons.”
Bryn laughed at the memory of his granna's face when he first told her he was going to be studying dracology at Waikato University. “Yeah, she's fairly pleased with the whole deal. She's like me, as far as dragons go; she adores them. We're the only ones in my family like that.” He sighed. “Maybe that's why I get along better with her than the rest of them.”
“You don't get along with your family?” Madeleine asked concernedly.
“Oh, it's not that. I just said I get along with her better than the rest of them. She's the only other person I know who keeps a dragon in her house: a leatherback who spends half his life in her lounge and half his life in the gully down the back of the property.”
Madeleine waved a finger, indicating she would be speaking if not for the treacherous custard square she was hurriedly dispatching. “I had a dragon-”
Bryn cut across her quickly. “Sorry, not meaning to be rude, but no you didn't. You don't have a dragon in the same way you have a cat or a dog. Okay, continue, I just wanted to clarify that.” For a moment, he feared that he'd come across rude, but her eyes merely sparkled with a special kind of humour.
“I'll remember that. I won't make that mistake again. Well, one way or another, I used to live out in the wops of Wellington, and there was a leatherback who used to come by my house and beg for kitchen scraps.” She smiled at the thought. “I was about six at the time. I used to sneak out whatever I could for him. Chicken bones, potato scraps, whatever I could find. You name it, he’d eat it. Of course, my mum freaked when she found out and had him sent away…”
“She didn’t know?” asked Bryn, amused.
“Well, no. He was my secret dragon friend.” Madeleine frowned. “My first friend, you might say. I don’t know, does that sound weird? That might sound weird.”
Bryn shook his head fervently. “It would be hypocritical for me to say so; my best friend is a dragon. I sometimes think he’s better company than a lot of the people I know. Oh, I didn’t mean-“
“I know you didn’t. You needn’t jump to the defence so quickly; you keep doing that.”
“I know, I’m sorry-“
“You’re doing it again.”
Bryn heaved an over-dramatic sigh. “Maybe it would be best if I stopped talking.”
Madeleine slapped the table, making its contents rattle. “No! That defeats the whole purpose of this get-together. You were meant to tell me more about dragons, remember? So far you’ve only told me what’s going on now. You haven’t told me about their history or anything like that.”
Bryn glanced at the clock. “I don’t have a whole lot of time. I kind of need to get back-“
“-Talk fast. That’s what I do!”
“I noticed. Well, like I said at the school the other day, our knowledge of dragons pre-1970s is limited to a few paintings done in the Middle Ages. Before then, we regarded these paintings as flights of fancy, creatures of myth and imagination. After all, the concept of a huge, flying, fire-breathing lizard is not one that sits particularly well in the brain, if you know what I mean.” He paused; Madeleine nodded, urging him to go on.
“Once we found the eggs though, it became clear that what we thought were fanciful designs were actually depictions of reality. The history of dragons is still being pieced together, but we think around that time, the Middle Ages, dragons went extinct. They faded into legend…until 1976.”
“Why New Zealand?” asked Madeleine. “Why here?”
“A question the country’s first and foremost dracologists have been struggling with for a long time. New Zealand is a young country; people have only been here a few hundred years. For centuries, it was untouched by human hands. We think the last dragons came here because they were being hunted down and killed in other parts of the world. Then they found a suitable place for their eggs - Pirongia Mountain - and laid them there for safe keeping.”
“Can you imagine being alive then? I mean…when people were just getting used to the idea that dragons weren’t fairy tales any more?” said Madeleine, her eyes glazing.
“I sometimes think I was born fifty years too late,” said Bryn, nodding in agreement. “But then, it did take people to warm to the idea, you know?”
“I’ve heard the stories. Some people wanted them culled on the spot.”
“Thank God they didn’t. I mean, if it wasn’t for the Greens fighting for a law change to keep dragons safe, a lot more probably would have been killed. As it is, maxies are almost extinct because they were so hated in the early days. I mean, they’re hated now but at least people know halfway how to deal with them after fifty years.”
“People do stupid things when they’re scared.”
“And they get scared when they’re confused. Finding dragons up Pirongia was pretty damn confusing, I’d imagine.”
“That’s what you’re worried about now, aren’t you?” Madeleine asked quietly. “Things are changing, just as everyone got used to having dragons around. Suddenly they’re breathing fire and acting out…”
“…And if Davs is right, this’ll all lead to more dragons,” Bryn sighed. “I’m not sure how people will take that.”
Madeleine dragged a fingertip through the custard square crumbs on her plate and popped them in her mouth. “I can see your point. What do you think they’ll do?”
“I shudder to think. Somehow, I just know there’ll be tears before the end.”
There was a pause as Bryn sipped his Coke.
“I want to hear about something more interesting now: you,” said Madeleine, with a toothy grin which reminded him disconcertingly of Chalk.
He let out a surprised laugh. “Me, more interesting than dragons? Impossible.”
“Rubbish.”
Bryn fidgeted, feeling embarrassed heat creeping up his neck. He could talk dragons for hours, but talking about himself was a whole different story. “Look, another time maybe. I need to get back before long, I left Davs holding the fort.” Shut up, idiot! Will you listen to yourself? A woman is showing interest in you of her own free will! The last time that happened was when you swallowed Aunt Doris’ diamond ring at The Unmentionable Christmas Incident of 2008!
“You haven’t finished your Neenish tart, though,” Madeleine pointed out.
“Because you keep on distracting me!” Bryn said, staring down at the remains of the sad little black-and-white tart.
“Eat it quickly, then we can walk and talk on the way back to the DoC office. Yes?”
Bryn caught himself about to resist just in time. It was his first reaction to clam up when attention was directed straight at him, unless dragons were involved. Meet me for lunch to discuss dragons? No problem. I’ll walk you back to the office and we can talk about you? Problematic.
“Sure, okay,” said Bryn in a small, tight voice. He smiled weakly and ate the rest of the tart in one bite.
“Good. Shall we go?” asked Madeleine, getting to her feet.
“Madeleine, wait-“ Bryn mumbled through a mouthful of pastry.
“Maddie,” she corrected. “Only my mother calls me Madeleine, and that’s when I’m in serious trouble.”
“Sorry,” Bryn said automatically.
“And stop apologising for everything!” Madeleine said, smothering a laugh.
“Sor- right.” Bryn coughed, standing up as well.
“Away at last!” Madeleine cried gleefully. “Onward!”
“Thank you,” Bryn called over his shoulder at the sour old man behind the counter, who merely glared back at him as though he’d insulted his mother.
They stepped out of the gloom of the bakery into the radiant afternoon sun and set off for the office. Madeleine let Bryn go a few steps in silence before clearing her throat in a pointed manner.
“Well?”
Bryn looked at her frantically. “Honestly, there’s not much to tell. I live alone in a Hamilton flat with a sulky black dragon called Chalk. I work for the Department of Conservation. I…studied dracology at Waikato University- ah, I’ve already told you that…I don’t know…” He trailed off with a little shrug.
“You’re making this whole thing far too difficult for yourself. Look, just begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end, then stop,” she said sagely. “That’s from Alice in Wonderland. Have you read it?”
“Um, no. I don’t tend to read a lot.”
“There you go, I’m learning things about you already! Carry on. Where were you born?”
“Here. Er, not here literally, as in on the side of the road,” - He was very relieved when Madeleine laughed at this - “I mean, in Hamilton. I’ve lived here my whole life. I-I guess that’s sort of weird.”
“Not weird at all,” Madeleine affirmed.
“I don’t know, it does seem strange to me. All my friends left for greener pastures years ago, to pursue higher education around the country and the world.”
“But in your defence, Waikato does have the best dracology qualification available anywhere. That has to count for something.”
“I guess it does. And also to my credit, I moved out the second I could; I’ve been completely independent since the age of nineteen.”
Madeleine frowned. “Do you not get along with your parents?”
“We need to cross the road here,” said Bryn vaguely before continuing. “And it’s not that I don’t get along with them, it’s just that I found them difficult people to live with. My mother refuses to leave me alone, even now. If she had her way, I’d have been paired off and married the day I turned sixteen-“ The mention of marriage in front of Madeleine made him falter awkwardly, but he plunged on. “-and my dad was the total opposite. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for me or my brother, I guess he was always a bit introverted. Never a big fan of people. He did all the dad stuff though, took Iain to his rugby games and me to my…school. I didn’t really get into sport as a kid, or now, even.”
“Neither. I presume Iain is your brother?”
“Yes.”
“Younger or older?”
“Older. By about eighteen months. He’s the favourite son, you might say-“
“-Hey, don’t talk like that!”
“Oh no, it doesn’t bother me. I don’t mind living in his shadow…not that I do, but if I did,” he corrected hurriedly, seeing the look on Madeleine’s face. “But honestly, from mum’s point of view, he’s married to a nice girl with a baby on the way, which satisfies her mother chicken ways. From dad’s point of view, he’s working as an accountant for a big firm in Auckland and so if you measure success by income, he’s pretty successful.”
“And how do you measure success?”
Bryn considered this for a while. “I’ve never really thought about it. For now, it’s placing one foot in front of the other and getting through my days. To a certain extent, it’s convincing people dragons aren’t all bad, except it looks as though that’s all about to go out the window…”
“You’d call that your unofficial mission in life, then?” Madeleine asked.
“You could say that, I suppose.” Bryn laughed a little. “I can’t remember the last time I talked about myself for such a long time.”
“Told you it wasn’t so difficult. You say you don’t like reading; what about other hobbies? Past-times?”
Bryn was sure his brain haemorrhaged at that moment. Caught out. Almost. He grabbed out, flailing, for a straw and hoped for the best.
“Erm. I kind of do this thing, I go along to SCA meetings. That stands for the Society of Creative…um…something, anyway. You know, swords and stuff? Some might find it weird, I don’t know, er.”
“Some might,” Madeleine concurred.
“You don’t?”
“I think everyone needs something they’re partially insane about,” Madeleine said passionately. “To keep them from going crazy, you know.”
“What’s yours, then? Your thing that stops you from losing your mind?”
“Hmm? Oh, collecting things. Old, antique things. You remarked on my cellphone earlier; that’s only the beginning, I can assure you.”
“Go on, what sort of things are we talking here?”
Madeleine shrugged. “Anything. I’m a compulsive hoarder. Although, I am particularly fond of electronics from the turn of the century. I have whole collections of old laptops, cellphones and MP3 players, back before everything went to touch-interface.”
“Whatever cranks your handle, I suppose,” Bryn said. He was gradually filling up with a warm feeling that came from having a long conversation with somebody, and just being happy in their company. It was not a feeling he’d been privy with for a long time. At least, not one he’d got from another human.
They continued to walk and talk, losing themselves in ever-increasingly more ridiculous topics of conversation - mostly courtesy of Madeleine - until they arrived at the DoC office, which took Bryn by surprise.
“Oh, we’re here,” he observed, blinking.
“So we are,” said Madeleine primly, trying not to laugh at his only too apparent shock.
“Guess I’d better get back to work, then,” Bryn said reluctantly.
“Can I come in? I’d like to meet this Davs character you’ve been telling me about-“
“-Another time, maybe,” said Bryn hastily, his mind once again flashing up images of what Davs’ reaction would be upon meeting Madeleine. “As you can probably tell, it’s not the best time for us right now.”
The excuse was lame, but Madeleine accepted it regardless. “True enough, I’d probably do nothing but get in the way and distract you.”
“You are more than welcome to get in the way and distract me some other time, Madel- Maddie. It’s been a pleasure to get to know you better,” said Bryn, a little stiff and awkward now their slightly extended lunch date was coming to an end.
“Likewise, I’m sure,” Madeleine said pompously, mirroring his manner and extending a hand for him to shake.
“Oh, be nice…” Bryn sighed, shaking her hand for no other reason than it was there.
“Always. Well, I’ll see you another time then, Bryn. If you don’t get fried to a cinder for getting in the way of a dragon courtship ritual, that is.”
“Thanks,” Bryn said dryly.
“You’re welcome. And don’t worry; I’d send a card to your family letting them know. Bye!” with that, she spun quickly on her heel and walked away, bouncing slightly with every step.
Bryn couldn’t stop himself from standing and watching her go before turning and, with a sigh, ducking into the darkness of the DoC office. He glanced at the time: he’d been over three-quarters of an hour at lunch, and he very much doubted Davs would be amused by that.
***
Indeed, Davs had been anything but amused and made no small point of informing Bryn as soon as he walked in about how the phone had been ringing off the hook since he left. On top of that, no less than eleven professional bloggers had got in contact about the media release, wanting information and comments from the supervising officer at New Zealand’s foremost dragon control centre. Along with the eight dracologists from Auckland who had also rung up to ask about the strange behaviour, Davs was starting to go spare.
It was Bryn’s idea to visit Pirongia to see what was going on with the dragons up there, partly to get Davs out of the office and the incessantly-ringing phone. As they drove, Davs was looking particularly haggard and drained.
“Everyone’s looking at us, Bryn. Do you realise that? They’re all watching us,” he said hoarsely, focusing on the road straight ahead of him. Bryn was very glad he was driving; Davs probably wouldn’t have noticed the corners.
“Davs, calm down. It’s not all bad.”
“Yeah, it is. It is. There are more dragons in the Waikato than there are anywhere else in New Zealand. Everyone has questions, and we’re right in the line of fire. Staring down the barrel…” Indeed, it looked as though Davs could see the barrel of the metaphorical gun pointed right between his eyes. “We don’t have enough people for this. Why don’t we have more people, Bryn? Why the hell are there only two of us?”
Bryn moistened his lips carefully before answering. “It’s never been necessary before, I suppose. The workload has always been acceptable for two people. Three when I first started, of course, but my point remains: we’ve never needed more before now.”
Davs smiled distantly. “That’s right; Ursula. I forgot she was still there when you started up. I guess she’d have had her baby by now. How long have you been working at DoC?”
“A little over a year.”
He chuckled, seeming to calm down a little. “That’s right! And you came out on a job with the two of us to stop that bloody maxie from demolishing Victoria Street - ah, there’s something that doesn’t happen every day.”
“Not that you’re complaining though, right?”
“God, no. People have long memories for that sort of thing; I reckon it’s still fresh in the minds of the people out shopping that day.”
“It’s stuck with me, that’s for sure,” Bryn admitted. There was something unforgettable about being forced to take cover in a handy sushi joint as talons - each the size of a loaf of bread - rake at the space you only very recently vacated. That was day four on the job for Bryn, and it was just lucky Davs and Ursula were quick on their toes and managed to bring the hulking beast down before it totally destroyed the sushi shop, and Bryn along with it. He had never seen a maxie before - or since - and that encounter had almost been his last with any dragon. Talk about on-the-job training.
“What a ruckus that was, huh?” Davs said with a humourless laugh. He watched the countryside rolling by his window for a few seconds, then said, “Still, it’s nothing compared to what’s going on now…at least it was only one maxie, not the whole goddamned population of dragons nationwide going apeshit at once…God. God, oh God, oh God. We need more people. We really, really need more people.” He buried his face in his hands and released a mangled yowling noise that might have been a disguised sob.
“Pull yourself together, will you?” said Bryn, gently but firmly. “If you fall apart, you leave me by myself and I don’t have your ability for organisation. I need you in this.” Bryn desperately hoped this tactic would work: Davs liked to know he was needed; that he knew better than others around him. It wasn’t that he was egotistical, but enjoyed preening his feathers like a bird of paradise.
“Of course, Bryn. You would be nothing without my expertise in the matter, wouldn’t you?” He sounded serious enough, but Bryn knew him well enough to pick up on the teasing tone.
“We need to keep our heads over this whole affair, that’s all. And if necessary, maybe we can get some of the other departments in the building to chip in.”
Davs snorted derisively. “What, those silly buggers who spend all their time staring at moss and lichen, and filling in skink translocation forms that are longer than the road outside the office? God forbid we should ever be so desperate.”
“I’m just saying, you’re probably right and we won’t be able to handle things on our own,” said Bryn delicately.
“Hmmph,” Davs grumped. Bryn decided - wisely, perhaps - to leave him to his thoughts.
Soon enough the hybrid car was crunching the gravel in the Pirongia carpark. Before they even hauled themselves out, it was obvious something was up. The dragons Bryn had observed only days ago lounging about in the sun with a distinctively regal air were chasing and circling each other, snapping and snarling, engaging with each other for a few seconds before tearing away down the hill in a flurry of thundering wings and angry hissing noises. They paid the two bewildered men clambering out of the car absolutely no heed as they galloped and scrambled through the scrubby grass, which - Bryn noted with some discomfort - was singed in places here and there.
As they watched, entranced, two green-flecked leatherbacks launched themselves into the air as they raced down the mountain, their wings pulling hard to fight the pull of gravity. They continued their dance in the air, pirouetting and twisting with a grace which belied their cumbersome appearances. Leatherbacks were not known for their aerial proficiency, since they spent most of their lives in the close air of the New Zealand bush. But here they were, elegant and streamlined in the sky like a pair of darters - which were known for their aerial proficiency.
“Quite beautiful to watch, isn’t it?” Davs breathed. Bryn didn’t respond. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but rather that he couldn’t spare the brain power to speak because he needed every ounce to take in the sight before him.
They both jumped as a bolt of flame flared suddenly and brilliantly against the blue of the sky. The other dragon did a barrel-roll to avoid the blast, and Bryn was struck by a moment of clarity. They used the fire breath as a display - that much they could tell from Chalk and the rockhopper back at the office - and also as a way of telling whether their dance partner was spry enough to avoid getting crisped. In so far as he could tell with his limited experience with dragon breeding habits, Bryn thought the two leatherbacks were getting on quite well.
“That’s what Chalk did, too,” Davs said, shaking Bryn’s elbow. “She hit him with a burst of flame breath and he ran for it. I’d say she wasn’t too impressed by that-“
“-Chalk is not a girl,” Bryn said automatically.
“You just don’t want to admit your little winged missus really is a missus!” Davs smirked. “Look, it makes sense, okay? Take these two right here. The male tries to tell the female he’s a bit of alright with some fancy fire breathing…oop, there he goes.” At that moment the dragon in question released a curling tongue of fire, the purpose of which seemed to be a lot more decorative than its more explosive predecessor. “See? That was a lot frillier than the one the female produced, because she’s trying to suss out whether or not he’s a good prospect for her. Come on, I’m right. Admit it.”
“It does all follow, but…” Bryn said, reluctance dripping off every syllable.
“But what?”
“But admitting that means admitting to the fact that you were right about Chalk, and the fact that I really do have a little winged missus.” He winced to say it; the words weren’t pleasant.
Davs shrugged. “Can I help it if I’m right?”
“No, but I’m going to hold off on giving you the satisfaction of hearing me say that until I’m absolutely certain.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Sorry. Oh look - show’s over.” The two dragons were descending to earth, spiralling gently as though they were both being sucked down a whirlpool. When their feet touched ground they sniffed each other quietly for a few minutes, all traces of their former rowdiness completely gone. Then, they parted ways in a placid manner as though nothing had happened.
“I guess dragons don’t go in for any wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am,” said Davs breezily.
“Poetic,” Bryn remarked snidely.
Just then, there was an explosion from the direction of the summit above them and a pair of darters erupted from the foliage. The light flashed off their smooth, granite-coloured scales like the reflection of the morning sun across the surface of a lake. Their flight patterns were far more intricate than those of the comparatively clumsy leatherbacks; the sky really belonged to the darter. They whirled in tight circles, spraying flames like an overexcited, scaly Catherine wheel.
Bryn watched the displays with lightness in his heart, forgetting for a few wonderful minutes of his responsibilities, his job. He didn’t think of what this new development would mean for him, or for the district, the country...his only thoughts were about the twirling creatures around him, all over the mountain, each locked in their own heads by old instincts.
“I can’t see how anyone can’t love these things. I just...can’t,” Bryn whispered, taken by the vision.
“It’s beyond me, too. It never ceases to amaze me how little contact people have with dragons, even though they inhabit the same places; here, especially. There’s no excuse for people living in the Waikato.”
“Somehow, they find them, though...” Bryn trailed off, distracted.
“I know we’re meant to be blazing some kind of path for the country, and tell the rest of New Zealand what they should be doing - something like that anyway - but in truth, I have no idea what our next move is. The strange thing is, I don’t mind that so much.”
The two darters crashed back down into the foliage and went out of sight.
“Really?” asked Bryn. “That doesn’t sound like you at all.”
Davs grunted. “Don’t think I’m going soft or hippyish like you, mind. I was just making an observation, is all.”
Bryn made a non-committal noise in his throat. “Of course you were. But in all honesty, what is our next move?”
Davs shrugged in response. “In all honesty, I’m not sure. Keep doing what we’re doing, I suppose. Keep monitoring our guests, sending out media releases and stay in contact with bloggers and dracologists seeking information. After all, we need to keep connected.”
Bryn felt like pointing out that that wasn’t what Davs was saying when he picked him up earlier that day, but let it slide. He sat down on the grass, enjoying the play of cool wind against his face and feeling more peaceful than he had in a long time. Presently, Davs sat down, too. They stayed this way for several minutes until Davs finally leant forwards with a heavy sigh.
“I suppose we should be heading back. I just know there’ll be a pile of messages as tall as me, but it needs to be done.”
“I admire your attitude,” said Bryn. “Say, have you eaten anything?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t had a chance. I was barely able to keep up with the incoming calls, let alone being able to feed myself.”
“In that case, we’ll pick you up something on the way there, then we can go through the paperwork together. How does that sound?”
“Ideal. And cheers, for getting me out of the office. I feel a lot better, now. How did you know?”
Bryn shrugged. “It always works for me.”