The Pygmy Dragon by Marc Secchia

slit eye, like the rajal in the cage opposite which had never quite seemed to sleep.
    When she declared the amount sufficient, Zardon said, “A Dragon Rider will do tasks which their Dragon finds difficult due to their size–like you have just done. I can teach you more about Dragon care, if you’d like?”
    “I’d love that.” Pip waved at his mouth. “Show me those fangs.”
    Zardon’s mouth yawned open, giving Pip a fine view of his forked, deep red tongue lying between his fangs, and the dark tunnel leading to his gullet. The roof of his mouth was not ridged, but rather, perfectly smooth. A Pygmy could have made a home inside that mouth, with room to spare.
    “Just toss them in whole,” the Dragon said.
    Wary of stray fireballs or burning sulphur or whatever else Dragons were supposed to spit at their enemies, Pip set herself to pitching eggs onto his tongue. Zardon barely chewed before he swallowed. She realised a mad grin was plastered to her lips, but she could not help herself. She was feeding a Dragon? Her tribe had worshipped the Ancient Ones, as they called Dragons.
    After several hundred eggs had disappeared down his voracious maw, Zardon said, “Keep a few for yourself and I’ll show you a trick–cooked eggs, Dragon-style.”
    “Thanks.”
    “Dragons must care for their Riders, too.” He added in a lecturing tone, “Dragons protect their Riders, hunt for them, offer Dragonish learning and wisdom, fight battles and carry Riders upon their backs. A Rider’s greatest gift is the companionship they offer their Dragon. A very special bond develops between Dragon and Rider–besides the obvious physical tasks which I’ll teach you. You probably wonder what a tiny Human can offer a mighty Dragon. I’ll admit, some Dragons think the same. But I think they’re arrogant. When you really understand how it is between Rider and Dragon … Pip, you’ll know, deep down, that two spirits can befriend each other and twine together and become more than you might imagine.”
    Pip realised, the way he talked, that Zardon must once have had a Dragon Rider he loved. It must be hard for him to accept another, a Pygmy girl, who was so ignorant of his needs and his history. But he had said, ‘we shall burn the heavens together, as Dragon and Rider.’ What did that mean? She had a sense it was more than just a casual phrase.
    Now was not the time to ask those questions. Zardon might choose to speak of his pain when he was ready. Instead, she bowed deeply from her waist in the Pygmy way, her right fist clenched over her heart to signify respect, and said, “I don’t know much, mighty Zardon, but I do know that I am deeply honoured to ride you.”
    His eyes lidded over. The Dragon made a sound as if wind were sighing through the treetops. Pip wondered if he was mourning.

Chapter 10: Dragons Have Ear Wax
     
    L Ater That Afternoon, Zardon swam them across the pristine waters before climbing onto the terrace-lake’s twenty-foot thick retaining wall and dropping off the other side with a simple flip of his wings. Pip whooped as they swooped through the hot, still afternoon air, cut by thick golden beams cast by the twin suns, partially hidden behind the Yellow moon. Hunagu made a sound like a low moan.
    Zardon had heated a boulder with his Dragon fire until it glowed red-hot. He poked a neat hole into it with his claw. Pip filled the hole with water and boiled herself an egg. Yum! “I can also grill meat on a skewer,” he claimed. “Just a trickle of fire is what’s needed.”
    “And here I thought it was Pygmy kebabs you were salivating over.”
    Zardon chuckle throbbed deep down in his chest. “You’d probably taste as sour as you are cheeky.”
    But Pip’s reminiscing was brought to an abrupt end as Zardon’s entire body jerked as if he had been stuck with the point of a sword. “Strangeness on the breeze,” breathed the Dragon, almost stalling in the air. “What evil stalks the Island-World? Is it