Chương 63: A Dragon's Hoard

Ignis I woke up to the sound of humans banging on things. I opened one eye cautiously. Sunlight streamed through the garage windows. Through the window, I saw some humans using mechanical tools that would make dwarven engineers giddy with delight. Unfortunately, they were loud. It made me want to cover my ears. The noise relentlessly continued. I groaned and buried my snout under my wing, trying to block it out. How does anyone sleep through this? I wondered.

After what felt like days, I gave up on rest and dragged myself upright. My wings felt stiff and my tail kept trying to tangle itself with any nearby items. I stretched carefully. Despite this, I immediately knocked over the hubcap I'd claimed as treasure yesterday. It clattered across the concrete floor. Nobody even noticed the sound because of the construction noise. I peeked out of the garage door. It was pure chaos. Humans were everywhere, scurrying around like confused rabbits.

Some were carrying wood and metal and strange tools. Derek was shouting orders while holding some kind of glowing rectangle. Other humans rushed past him, calling out numbers and measurements that made no sense to me. Waddling through the middle of it all was a small, furry storm cloud. The little god was glaring at everyone. He even stopped to glare at objects. The only thing that made him smile was when he kicked a bucket out of the way. Then he pointed at it and asked, "What are you going to do about it?"

Obviously, he was looking for a fight and I wasn't about to get on his bad side. The god-raccoon moved through the construction site with an expression that made me instinctively flatten my ears against my skull. He was muttering something under his breath as he went. I caught fragments: "... cost a fortune…" and "... ridiculous noise…" and "... useless minions can't follow simple instructions…" A worker nearly stepped on him. Abe snarled with his teeth bared and the human jumped back with a yelp.

It was almost funny since the human smelled like a wolf. Even Tala was keeping her distance. The squirrel watched from a fence post. Her tail was twitching, but she didn't say anything. She didn't tease or make jokes or do any of the things I'd seen her do yesterday when she'd threatened me. That's when I knew Abe was in a mood. Dragons understood moods. My father got them sometimes. The whole lair would go quiet, with everyone giving him space. I wisely decided to stay in the garage.

Maybe I could organize my collection or practice breathing smoke without coughing. I definitely wasn't going anywhere near the angry raccoon god. I settled back onto the concrete. It was uncomfortable, but I'd slept on worse after my siblings stole the good spots. Then I started arranging my treasures. I was especially glad that my siblings weren't there to steal my stuff. Sadly, I had to admit, it looked pathetic. Back home, even the nursery had better hoards than this.

My siblings would laugh if they could see me now. I pushed that thought away. Thinking about home made my chest hurt. Outside, the hammering continued. Derek's voice rose above the noise: "No, the other beam! The reinforced one! We're building a dragon bed, not a coffee table!" A dragon bed? Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. I perked up slightly. Were they building something for me? Thud. Crash. Bang. I winced. Whatever they were building, it sounded violent.

After about a decade, a metal carriage pulled up. I recognized the sound from yesterday. It was different from the construction wagons. Curious, I crept to the garage door and peeked out. Pierre climbed out of the driver's seat. He was moving like an ancient dragon after a long flight. He held his back with one hand and made a sound that was half-groan, half-whimper.

"Never again," he said to the female who was climbing out of the passenger side.

"Never again, Shelly. I mean it."

"You volunteered," Shelly said.

"I was VOLUN-TOLD. There's a difference. A big difference." Pierre stretched again.

"My back is never going to forgive me for this."

"You're a werewolf. You'll heal," Shelly assured him.

"That's not the point!" Pierre complained. It kind of reminded me of my parents bickering. Then they moved to the back of the truck and opened it. There were bags, millions of bags. There might even be more than a dozen. What is that? I wondered.. Abe waddled over, his mood apparently improved slightly by the truck's arrival.

"You got them."

"Two hundred thousand pennies," Pierre groaned as he pulled out a bag.

"Do you know how much that weighs? Six hundred pounds! We had to make eight bank trips! Eight!" Abe ignored them and looked directly at me. His eyes, small and dark and surprisingly sharp, focused on where I was hiding behind the doorframe.

"Ignis. Come here." It wasn't a request. I approached cautiously, keeping my wings tucked tight so as not to knock over anything. Unfortunately, I did knock over something with my tail. The crash startled me and made Abe let out a dramatic sigh. The god was less angry-looking now, but he still looked annoyed.

"This is for you," Abe said, gesturing at the bags.

"Your hoard." I blinked.

"My hoard?" I looked at the bags more carefully, confused.

"What's in them?"

"Pennies. Copper coins. They're not gold, but they're shiny, and there are a lot of them. We figured you needed something proper to sleep on. Dragons do better with hoards." Pierre and several workers started carrying the bags into the garage. They poured them out onto a large tarp that someone had spread across the floor. Each coin clinked against the others with a perfect sound. I stared as the pile grew and grew. It was beautiful. It was shiny, metallic, and mine.

My siblings can't take this away from me, I thought. The coins caught the light from the windows and gleamed like tiny suns. There were so many of them. I didn't know what 'pennies' were worth in this world. I was terrible at human money. In fact, I was terrible at math in general, but it had to be worth a lot. Maybe it was as valuable as gold.

"Do you like it?" Abe asked.

"I…" My voice cracked. My eyes felt hot, which was alarming because dragons didn't cry. It was one of the first things we learned. Crying was weak. Crying was for lesser creatures.

"Thank you," I whispered, my throat tight.

"Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, kid. Now go enjoy it." I didn't need to be told twice. I carefully settled myself onto the coins so they wouldn't scatter everywhere. Then I started arranging them. I smoothed them out and created a proper nest in the center where I could curl up. The metal was cool against my scales. They were the perfect temperature and perfect texture. I lay down in the center of my hoard and felt something in my chest finally relax. This was right. This was proper. This was how dragons were supposed to live.

"He's crying," I heard Pierre mutter.

"Shut up," Shelly hissed.

"He's had a rough week."

"I know, I'm just saying," Pierre tried to say something again, but was quickly kicked by his mate.

"Pierre," Shelly said. Her tone was as frosty as mommy's voice when she ran off that white dragon who wanted to mate with daddy.

"Shutting up now," Pierre said. He's kind of slow, I thought. But that's okay. He brought me the coins, so he's okay. I ignored them and pressed my face against my coins, letting the coolness soothe the heat in my eyes. I had a hoard, a real hoard. Maybe this world wasn't so terrible after all. Unfortunately, I should've known the world wouldn't let me enjoy the moment. After that, things got even busier.