She emerged from her hoard, looking disgustingly wistful and optimistic. It made Grel want to puke. The more time he spent with her, the more he found to dislike about her. That was true for the entire city, but he was finally on the way out. He just had to make it onto the train, grab the book, ditch the twerp and get back to the Lapidary Kingdom.
Just a minor, obnoxious, change of plans.
The pair walked along the winding promenade up to the station, he as far away from her as possible on the path. He could just tell that she wanted to ask him a million more questions, but the talking portion of their time together had come to an end. A permanent end if she knew what was good for her.
The train station was a grand old thing, even to Grel. Dark wood, gilded trim, huge windows, even a cheery flag frozen mid-flap in the breeze. It had been built a long time ago, and not by humans or dragons. A relic of a forgotten time.
They stood now before a large map of the continent of Salt encased in protective glass. Train tracks spider-webbed across the whole map, stretching from the Double RR Mountains all the way to the coast and everywhere in between. Names in an intricate, scrawling font spelled out all the important stops.
But the map had a glaring, if unsurprising, omission.
"So, where are we headed?" She asked in that too-chipper voice.
He turned, slow and sardonic and, without taking his eyes from her, raised a claw to tap onto the glass with a nasty plink. "Here."
She looked. Removed her glasses, cleaned them, then looked again. The pink caterpillars above her eyes knit together. Where he pointed there was nothing. A little patch of nothing between the Smoulderbone, mislabeled on the map as Mt. LavaLavida, and the ocean, where the Lapidary Kingdom was hidden.
"How are we supposed to get there? Not only is it completely on the other side of Salt, the train doesn't even stop at the Smoulderbone. The high council is trying to change that, but we're stuck with that problem for now."
"Well, since you've decided to be the boss, I'll let you worry about the logistics. How about I go wrangle up some tickets while you plot the route?"
"Tickets? Oh dear, I forgot all about tickets."
"Shocker," he muttered and stomped away. He left the human to stew in her confusion and frustration as he stalked to the station.
The door slammed into the wall with a bang that rattled the glass. Not because he had meant to do so, but rather because his father was always right. Grel wasn't made right for this world. He let the door swing shut behind him as he traipsed through the station.
He was pleased to find a vending machine, something his people had not created but that he still liked a great deal. Because they had not been made by dragons, they were not dragon-proof. One solid ram of his gold and purple body against it made the goods inside rattle and come free. He stuffed them into his bag, and surveyed the rest of station office. The actual platform was outside and covered from the elements, but a gilded door led out to it.
Frozen sat on benches, looked at maps, hauled baggage and handled children. Every human in Spice Rack City except for, and this really would be just his lousy luck, the most annoying one. He was still frustrated by their conversation earlier, and sneered at the ostentatious human costumes all around him now.
"How can she not see that they are all dressed like clowns? Is it because she's dressed like a peasant all in rags?" He muttered grumpily to his silent audience as he hopped the ticket counter. If they could respond, they might say that Maple's skirt and sweater were actually quite cute, if not a bit modest. That perhaps, she was only trying to help him, not mock him.
Of course, no one said any of this.
Grel towered over the short human male who manned the desk, which made picking him up and setting him aside to search for tickets easy. He left the clerk at an awkward angle, balancing on one heel, and felt proud with his work. It took some digging, and the floor was covered in paper and debris by the end his rampage, but Grel found tickets.
He stuffed a handful of the shiny golden slips into his bag, and dumped a sufficient, he assumed, amount of gems out onto the counter. "For the fare."
He was about to make for the door when he remembered Maple's jabs about his human clothing again. If he was going to ride on the train, he couldn't stay openly in his dragon form. It didn't really matter what she thought, but if his appearance was below the standards of a normal human's then maybe it wouldn't kill him to give it a little more thought. After all he was at all times the representation of the Lapidary Kingdom and the royal bloodline and blah, blah, blah.
He slipped the gem glasses on, his body appearing to change upon doing so. The dragon clothing fell to the ground, and he stood naked but for the glasses. Then he took stock of the options. He stood and sat next to humans that were shaped like him, even finding one outfit he didn't completely hate.
One man wore a simple white shirt and brown pants, thick boots, a dark jacket, and a wide brim hat. He wrestled them off of the man and onto himself. They fit like they had been made for his human body. He took out another small handful of gems and put them in the pocket of the man's undershirt. At least this time Maple couldn't complain that he stolen the costume.
He affixed his gear, the precious opal daggers his mother had given him, the whip with the name 'Diego' carved into it, the pouches with emergency supplies, to his belt. With a final adjustment of his bag, he set out to find his burden once more.
Maple had moved away from the map, and had wandered down to wait by the train platform, and he watched her unhappily as he followed the path down to her. He had left her worried and had smugly assumed the he would return to find her still stumped. Instead, to his irritation, she looked revoltingly hopeful. She held a support beam, and leaned out to look down the tracks and the distant mountains beyond. The breeze tugged her curls, and she clutched LOVELOCK close to her chest.
It made him want to puke. Grel hated cute almost as much as sweet, and Maple was a sickening amount of both.
He picked his way through the human statue garden that was the train platform, and over to her. She startled, nearly fell off the platform and onto the tracks below.
"Is that you Grel?"
He glanced down from over the shades, revealing his true purple dragon eyes underneath. "Does this outfit meet her majesty's high standards?"
"It is not her majesty's standards we are meeting, but everyone else around us that we are trying to fool into somehow believing you're a human. Also, don't call me that."
"Why not? Does the Queen of the Humans not like having her superiority recognized?"
Her face reddened, making her pink all over, and scrunched up in a way that made him certain she was going to yell at him. If she had, he would have known how to respond, even had his next jab ready. But she didn't yell. She blew out a hard, frustrated puff of air and spoke sternly, but not angrily.
"Look- I know you do not care for my company. I can't say that I am thrilled about yours or this situation either. But how are we supposed to blend in if we are at each other's throats? Couldn't we just be civil? I'll start: I like your new outfit quite a lot. The whip is a nice touch."
Grel was stunned into silence. He still wanted to yell, to let loose every barb against her, but something felt suddenly quite wrong. He tried to make his face settle back into anger, or even just cool dismissal, and hoped that she had missed the obvious surprise. He opened his mouth, closed it again. Somewhere deep inside, in the locked away part of his heart, he felt his mother trying to remind him of something.
"Thank you," he found himself saying, instead of the shorter and ruder things he planned to. "I… found it on a pirate ship?"
"The outfit? I find that unlikely."
"No, the whip. I found it on an abandoned pirate ship."
"Are a lot of dragons pirates? Is that a major economy for this uhm, what was it, oh Diamantaire? Or privateer perhaps?"
He bit back a groan at the way her big, pink eyes glittered. "Nah, you are getting carried away here. I told you, we don't really get out much. Our economy is… old, I guess? It would take too long to explain and is not that exciting. Trust me. But, sometimes interesting things wash up on the shoreline."
"Sounds to me like some dragons might 'get out' from time to time."
"Not some, just one." He smiled, just a little. "The kingdom is right on the ocean. You could make the claim that I was well within the boundary."
"What else did you find on this ship?"
"Mostly a lot of spiders, big gross ones. Snakes too. So many water logged nuddie mags-"
"Eww, Grel, I don't want to know about that stuff."
"Hey, don't shoot the messenger! Not my fault the OG captain was a horn-dog. I didn't take any of those anyway. Not enough hot dragon women. Anyway, I found his whip. I think the other good stuff was already pilfered, because I found this bad boy tucked away in the captain's quarters. It hasn't left my side since."
He caught her eyeing it with open curiosity glittering in behind her glasses. Oh what the heck? He undid it from his belt and handed it over to her.
"Really?"
"Don't make me change my mind."
She hastily stuffed the LOVELOCK book in her bag, wiped her hands on her sweater, and took the whip reverently. She held it up in the sunlight and gingerly examined it like it was an item from her museum. Her fingers ran delicately over the carved wood handle.
"Wow, this is is incredibly old. Pre-magic drought era."
"How can you know that just from looking at it?"
"Oh, I just read a lot. I've read every book in the museum, more than once. Look here- see that shimmer? That's a spell. A very old spell, but clearly a good one. I don't know if I could tell you what kind without some experimenting, and even then I think I would need to cross reference my archive. Though, I do wonder if that contributes to it staying so pristine despite its advanced age. Magic still exists, in a way. There are things to look for."
He didn't respond, letting her yammer on about extinct trees and ancient carpentry and the ways magic would be incorporated with the use of spells, enchantment. Something twisted uncomfortably in gut. He wanted to be smug, especially about magic. It was the one thing dragons truly had in his opinion. He had actually used magic, could now if he really wanted to, but she had such a bizarre and unexpected knowledge of it. Knowledge even of things he hadn't heard before, and that was not a feeling he liked.
She handed the whip back and gestured to the bench behind them. She sat on one end, and he flopped himself down on the other. The human disguise was just that, a costume and not a transformation into a human. When he landed on the bench, his true weight caused the bench to tip and Maple was lifted into the air with a squeak, then slid down until she smacked against him.
"Oh dear, I'm sorry I-"
"Shut up, cutie, I'm fixing it. Dad says I'm too strong for this world."
"Cutie?" She squeaked again, this time turning a cherry red and her eyes widening.
"Oh, right I'm not supposed to insult you. Sorry let me try that again. Shut up, human-I'm-forced-to-be-with, I'll fix the bench."
He stood up, and Maple crashed back down, her glasses knocking askew. Jostled, she slid to the other side and Grel landed himself back in the middle of the bench to not tip it. Now they sat much closer together. He'd sit on another bench, but now he had made a production of the whole thing.
"You know, Grel, uhm, 'cutie' is not exactly an insult to humans. Not that you should insult me, we're being civil, and I appreciate you catching that. But, well, you see cutie isn't exactly civil either. It's not rude-"
"Spit it out, what does it mean? To me it means you are cute, maybe too cute if I'm honest."
"Being cute is a bad thing to you?"
"Obviously. Cute, sweet, soft all of that. A real dragon cannot tolerate those qualities."
"Oh." She had been red and nervous before, but there had almost been a certain lightness to that. Now she seemed oddly deflated. "It is a compliment for humans, usually. Really it's a pet name."
"Pet name?"
"A title you might give to someone you love. Cutie is one you might call children, or, well, your lover?"
"Oh. OH." Now it was Grel who flushed a deep red, unable to stop the human costume from projecting his emotions. "Yeah, no I super did not mean it that way."
"I suppose that's a good lesson on not insulting me, then."
"Ugh, don't do that. Are you going to lecture me on my manners the whole trip?"
"If you keep having terrible ones, perhaps I may."
Grel did not like the silence that settled over them. It reminded him of the cold, isolating silence of the court when he displeased the King. Again. He settled into it, preparing for it to last until they were at least on the train, if not longer. That would suit him fine.
But Maple never did what he expected.
"So are you good with it? The whip, I mean. I've only ever read about them and I have never met anyone who uses it practically."
"Good with it?" Grel thought back to all of the rough welts, the cracked or shed scales from errant misses, the hours of empty practice on the beach smacking himself about the legs and arms and tail and body. "Oh yea. I'm a real whip pro."
"That makes me feel better. I'm glad that at least one of us is has some ability to defend ourselves. Not that I wouldn't try to help, I just know I'm not skilled there."
"You don't get out much either, huh?"
She made a small, surprised laugh of agreement. "What gave it away? I've never left the city."
"Oh come on, you must have. Not even once?"
"Truly. I've explored every inch of Spice Rack, but most days I don't travel much further than the museum. My family doesn't leave the city, we stay and protect and provide. That's what my dad always says. But that's also exactly why I have to go now. I have to protect them."
"I'll bite," he said. "What is the deal with your family? Why have a museum dedicated to something that isn't yours?"
"What do you mean? You certainly seemed to know where you were going when you wanted to burgle us."
"Pffttt, burgle. Do you hear yourself when you talk? Anyway, I knew where Ruby's book was, but that's not the point. What's up with the du Provence's? Are you guys, like, the royalty or something?"
"Oh no, not at all. Although, I'm sure there are those in this city that would be very gratified to hear you suggest it. We did help establish the town, a long time ago, and we played our part during in the early days of the Drought. We collected everything we could and have preserved it, just in case the magic ever came back. I think my family forgot that part, about just keeping it safe until it comes back. They are certain that it will never return, and we've simply become guardians of ancient, useless knowledge."
"What do you think?"
"No one knows what happened to cause the Drought, but everyone has theories. I've read up on all of them, but nothing sits right in my gut. All I know is that I don't know anything, but if magic does ever come back, I want to be a resource. A living embodiment of my archive. Have a question? Maple's got your answer. Or, well, that's what I would like anyway. No one really seems to want my answers."
Grel was preparing his lies for the inevitable moment when she would ask what the dragons had to say about the drought, but was mercifully spared by the resonate bellow of the train horn blaring. They both jumped to their feet, and looked down the track at the approaching train. Smoke poured from the engine, the wheels like the thundering of hundreds of hooves. The black metal giant slowed to a screeching halt at the platform before them.