“You were on our rescue team.” This is the she-dragon who carried me back. It’s all a little foggy, but I remember enough to recognize her. She shifted again once we were on Draig soil. I remember her being concerned about me, and then…not muchafter that. When I came to, I was in this bed. “You brought me home.”
She nods. “Guilty as charged.”
“I hope I’m not disturbing you?” she asks, lifting her brows.
“Not at all.” I push my bed up a little straighter using the remote. “Come in. Sit down.”
Why is she here?
She picks the chair near the window and takes a seat.
“I’m Brook, by the way. I probably should have introduced myself as soon as I arrived,” she says. “I fly with the Mistveil Guard. I wanted to look in on you before we leave this afternoon, just to see how you were doing. You were pretty banged up yesterday.”
“That’s good of you,” I say. “I’m Magma,” I give a short laugh. “But you already know that. I’m doing much better, thanks. I have to say, I’m ready to leave this place. The food is terrible. I could have bounced my eggs off the wall this morning. I swear.”
She laughs.
“I ended up eating the yogurt and an apple.”
“That isn’t much for a big male like you,” she tells me.
“You’re telling me. Last night they served me the driest piece of meat you’ve ever seen. It tasted like it was made from an old shoe.”
She makes a face and laughs some more.
“The mash was watery. The peas weren’t too bad, but I’m not a huge fan of peas.”
“Who is?” She smiles.
It feels weird talking to a Red like this.
For years, I killed them on sight. Yet Brook seems normal. Like us. It’s a little disconcerting but also gives me hope for the future.
“Are you being treated well? As a Red Dragon on Draig soil, I mean? Sorry if the question is a bit left field.”
“Not at all.” She waves a hand. “Yes, everyone has been really nice. We’ve had a few stares from the general public, but nothing terrible. It is to be expected.” She shrugs. “Your second-in-command gave us a tour of Security Central, and it was very impressive.” She tilts her head. “You run a tight operation. All your hard work and effort shows.”
“Thank you,” I say. “It was great teamwork.”
“I’m sure it is.” She holds my gaze, easy and direct. No game in it.
“Nice of you to say so.”
She stands. “I was going to grab something from the restaurant downstairs before we head out. Can I get you something? Anything is better than old shoe and bouncy egg. What do you say?”
“Thanks for the offer but I’m fine.” I shake my head. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll survive one more hospital tray. At least I hope they cut me loose this afternoon.”
She’s already halfway to the door. She looks back, one eyebrow arched. “I’m going down anyway. Let me get you something. You’ll regret it if you end up having to stay another night.”
I almost argue, and then I rethink it. “Actually, a cheeseburger would be great,” I say. “And fries. Oh, and if they do milkshakes—” I think about Carla for a second and then stop. “I’ll have a strawberry shake. Is it too much?”
“Not at all. I love a good milkshake. Give me another option on the off chance they don’t have burgers.”
“Maybe a pasta or a lasagna. Something with cheese in it.”
The corner of her mouth is up again. “I’ll sort it out.”
She has the door open when Flint appears on the other side of it. He pulls up short and then grins.
