Salutations, small fierce predator,growled a monster.
Little sister, hissed a monster.
[approving sky blue]
She would have pride of place on our shoulder,purred a monster.
Pretty little thing, pretty thing,gibbered a monster.
Keep her, keep her,screeched a monster.
“No!” said Carter. Then, remembering his inside voice, he thought to them,No. She’s not a pet. At least, she’s not our pet.
The dragonette gripped his forearm with her little claws and stretched out her neck. Carter put down the mini-welder and scratched her head, hoping to keep her quiet. The dragonette seemed to enjoy that, nuzzling his hand like a cat. Despite the metallic appearance of her hide, it felt more like suede than either metal or scales.
He noted with approval that unlike everything else in the swamp, the dragonette was impeccably clean. She probably groomed herself like a cat, unlike some magical pets he could name. He’d almost had a heart attack when Fenella had spotted the bright blue hairs that Merlin’s pest of a bugbear had left on his coat. She’d instantly realized they came from a real animal, too, until he managed to convince her they were from a carpet.
Fenella was sharp as a tack. He couldn’t let the dragonette get anywhere near her.
“Sorry, but you’d better take off,” Carter whispered. “Go do… whatever you’re doing.”
When the dragonette showed no inclination to go anywhere, he stopped petting her and gave her a gentle shove. “Shoo!”
She jumped off his arm, flew to his shoulder, and nibbled gently on his ear. There was something oddly pleasant about her weight on his shoulder. He finally understood why Dali and Tirzah and Pete, who had flying kittens, liked to have them perch on their shoulders. But unlike Batcat and Cloud, this little beauty wouldn’t shed all over his clothes.
The golden dragonette nuzzled him insistently until he petted her. Unlike Spike the cactus kitten, she wouldn’t stab your hand if you accidentally rubbed her the wrong way. And she was so dainty and small, unlike Merlin’s lumbering bugbear that knocked over furniture on a daily basis. She seemed to like the petting, making a soft crooning sound. Unlike Ransom and Natalie’s teleporting puppies, the dragonette would never bark hysterically for no reason.
Really, this golden beauty was an ideal pet.
If you wanted a pet. Which Carter didn’t. And even if he did want one, he certainly couldn’t have one now, when he was running for his life and accompanied by a sharp-eyed, keen-eared, brilliant woman who absolutely could not learn that magic existed.
“You have to go,” he whispered. “Seriously. Now.”
The dragonette tried to crawl inside his shirt. It was wet and transparent, so it was in no way a hiding place, even if you ignored the lump she made.
The other magical pets could follow directions, sometimes. The people he knew who had magical pets said that instructions needed to be phrased simply, and the animals had to want to obey.
He lifted the dragonette off him, held her up so her summer sky-blue eyes met his, and said in a low but carefully articulated voice, “Go. Away. Now. Don’t. Come. Back.”
No no no no no, howled an inner monster.
Keep her, keep her, screeched another.
You’re making a terrible mistake, snarled a monster.
[angry reproach baked yam orange]
She belongs to us, hissed another monster.
“No, she does not,” Carter said firmly. “She’s lost. She needs to go home. Magical animals pick their own owners, and there is no way this little beauty has her heart set on belonging to a monster.”
He opened his hands and tossed her into the air. “Go away!”
She opened her translucent wings, let out a tiny shriek, and flew away. In a moment, she was gone.
His monsters growled, roared, screamed, and color-flashed their disapproval. It made Carter’s head ache.
[furious blood red]
