Read Online The Pygmy Dragon by Marc Secchia - Free Book Online Page A

black as her hair; so dark that one could barely discern the pupils. She touched her hollow cheekbones. Shullia had complained to the zookeeper about her diet. Pip wondered if she was looking at a stranger–it felt so queer, seeing the person Pip in the mirror, knowing the thoughts within her, but not recognising the exterior.
    “Beautiful,” said Arosia, wiping her eyes when she thought Pip was not looking.
    Shullia said, “Look. Look deep in the mirror, Pip.”
    She looked. Tears glistened in the corners of mirror-Pip’s eyes.
    “See?” said Shullia, clutching her shoulders fiercely, as if by the power of her grip alone she could impress her words on Pip’s soul. “That’s a person you see there. You think, you feel, you love, you hurt, you cry, you laugh, you hope and dream. You’re a person. Don’t ever let anybody tell you otherwise. I know, because I’m a person, too.”
    *  *  *  *
    Deep in the fall of that year, as another cruel winter curled its icy claws around Sylakia Island, Hunagu suddenly took ill. One day, he was his usual cheerful self. The next, he complained of a headache and a runny nose. Pip teased him about the rivers of snot an Oraial could produce. The third day, he was unable to raise his head from the ground. It hurt too much, he said.
    That was the morning Pip found two dead flying vervet monkeys in their cage.
    She asked Balthion to summon the zoo veterinarian, who was visibly wary of approaching the sick monkeys. He examined Hunagu and prescribed a rash of herbal remedies, but Pip knew he had no clue. Master Balthion urged her to leave Hunagu. She refused.
    The days dragged by. Pip fretted over Hunagu, who grew weaker and weaker, while she remained stubbornly healthy and well. The strange disease did not touch her, but it took every monkey in her cage, young and old. By now, Hunagu was too weak to speak. She dribbled water down his throat by propping his mouth open with a stick, and washing the herbs down. She could make him eat by patiently mashing up leaves and shoving the pulp down his throat until his swallowing reflex took over.
    The zookeeper handed Pip a shovel through the bars and told her to bury the monkeys, as deep as she could. Strangely, the monkeys seemed only to have fallen asleep. There was neither sign of distress on their faces, nor wounds nor sores on their bodies. However, when she moved the first monkey, a clear liquid poured out of its mouth. Drowned? Pip covered her mouth, trying not to gag.
    Then she threw down the shovel and ran. She knew she had to shift Hunagu onto his side.
    Now Balthion’s teachings came to the fore. With the help of several rocks and long, sturdy bamboo poles, a tiny Pygmy girl and two of the zookeepers were able to lever the Oraial onto his side. He coughed wetly, a deep rattle in his chest, and fluid poured out of him.
    He endured, but only to become weaker.
    The frosty nights were the worst. Pip stayed awake, nursing her friend, feeding him water and mash she warmed over a small fire. She swaddled him in every scrap of cloth she could beg from the zookeepers, but Hunagu coughed and shivered and moaned all night. He struggled for every breath. Pip exhausted herself helping him. She had almost nodded off, early one evening, when Hunagu suddenly raised his head and said:
    “Hunagu go to spirit world.”
    “No,” Pip cried, before she was fully awake.
    “Tonight,” he said, slumping again. His eyes closed.
    Pip sat beside her friend, shaking uncontrollably. The Jade and Blue moons rolled slowly overhead, casting an eerie light into their shelter. Hunagu’s breathing slowed.
    She fell into a strange dream-state in which Hunagu walked away from her, his powerful body rolling forward with every reach of his great paws, ascending a smooth green mountain. The suns blazed down from the sky, but a mist rose around his body, like steam rising off exposed rock after a sharp thunderstorm.
    Pip ran after Hunagu, crying and shouting for him to