The Dragon of the Dolomites

By Scott William Carter

Dragons, glass boys, and multiplying cats . . . From award-winning writer Scott William Carter comes a collection of four spellbinding fantasy tales geared toward younger readers -- and the young at heart.

THE DRAGON OF THE DOLOMITES

Everyone knows dragons are the vainest of all creatures. And if you're the last dragon? You're the vainest of them all.

THE HUMAN ADDICT: A DRAGON'S TALE

Dragons didn't need to eat but once every full moon, so gluttony was considered the worst of their crimes. The fascinating tale of one dragon's struggle with a rather unusual addiction.

SHATTERBOY

A short, powerful tale about a woman who finds a glass boy in a recycling transfer station — and how the few days with him change both of their lives

THE PROBLEM WITH POLLY

How many cats is too many? One? Ten? A thousand? When Nathan Randall awakes one morning to find a strange tortoise shell cat sitting on his dresser, he's soon struggling with the most unusual problem of his life.

*****

SCOTT WILLIAM CARTER’s first novel, The Last Great Getaway of the Water Balloon Boys, was hailed by Publishers Weekly as a “touching and impressive debut” and won the prestigious Oregon Book Award. Since then, he has published nine novels and over fifty short stories, his fiction spanning a wide variety of genres and styles. His most recent book, Wooden Bones, chronicles the untold story of Pinocchio and was singled out for praise by the Junior Library Guild. He lives in Oregon with his wife and children.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Flying Raven Press
• Release date: Apr 5, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458181299

Scott William Carter

Scott William Carter is the author of Wooden Bones and The Last Great Getaway of the Water Balloon Boys, which was hailed by Publishers Weekly as a “touching and impressive debut.” His short stories have appeared in dozens of popular magazines and anthologies, including Analog, Ellery Queen, Realms of Fantasy, and Weird Tales. He lives in Oregon with his wife and two children. Visit him at ScottWilliamCarter.com.

Book preview

The Dragon of the Dolomites

And Three Other Strange Tales

Scott William Carter

Contents

The Dragon of the Dolomites

The Human Addict: A Dragon's Tale

The Problem with Polly

Shatterboy

About the Author

Extended Preview of Drawing a Dark Way

Smashwords Edition. Electronic edition published by Flying Raven Press, November 2010. Copyright 2011 by Scott William Carter. New edition Copyright 2013. Shatterboy originally appeared in Cicada, November 2005. The Problem with Polly originally published in Cat Tales 2, Wildside Press, April 2010, edited by George Scithers.

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction, in whole or in part in any form. This short story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover illustration © 2011 by Joel Serrano. Used with permission. Find out more about his work at http://serranoart.deviantart.com/

For more about Flying Raven Press, please visit our web site at http://www.flyingravenpress.com.

This ebook includes

an extended preview of

Scott William Carter's novel

Drawing a Dark Way.

The Dragon of the Dolomites

Fanzini was outfitted with new clothes, complete with black leather boots and a silk red cape, so he would have the necessary credibility when he asked the dragon to pose for a portrait. He was given food, paints, brushes, and a wooden easel. The only thing that bothered him was his ride—an old mare so thin and gaunt it looked more like a harp than a horse. He suspected they gave him such a washed-up mount because they didn't mind if the horse didn't return.

He set out at once, a single guard (who was just as gaunt and sickly as the horse) accompanying him. The terrain was hilly and required them to rest their mounts often. Finally the forest gave way to the mountains, and the mountains gave way to the Dolomites—a limestone formation with high, stark walls that rose straight out of the ground, little vegetation on the steep slopes. Every crackle and snap made Fanzini jump. His companion interrupted long bouts of nervous silence with crude jokes about how Fanzini would end up as dragon droppings before long.

After two days, Fanzini could stand no more of it.

It's quite possible, he said, that I may actually manage to paint him, you know.

The guard laughed and scratched his white beard. A lowly goat herder like you?

I'm destined to be a great painter, Fanzini insisted.

Oh, sure, the guard said, and giant feathered turtles may fly out of my pants when I squat to relieve myself.

Fanzini, who knew he was both good and fast at his art, stewed at the insult. A week earlier, he had left his home in the rugged mountains surrounding Bolzano to seek his fortune in the valleys of Italy. This was against his parents' wishes, but he knew that a painter could never become famous or wealthy in the poor village where he was raised.

He had come to Lord d'Appiano offering to paint the man's portrait, but the lord of the valley offered only one assignment: Find the dragon in the hills of the Dolomites and return with its portrait. Though the existence of the dragon was only a rumor, none of the painters d'Appiano had sent so far had returned. Despite this, Fanzini accepted, because he knew he would have to take great chances to rise above his lowly beginnings.

While the guard laughed at his own joke, Fanzini shot back, Now that would be worth painting—unlike your face.

The guard's laugher cut short and his cheeks bunched up like purple grapes. You little goat boy, you may have put on new clothes, but you're still nothing. If I wasn't under orders—

Yes, yes, Fanzini said. "You would beat me senseless, I'm sure. But I will paint him. You will eat your words."

Eat my words? I will do no such thing. If I had my way—

But the guard never got to tell Fanzini what his way was. As they passed a large rocky outcropping, a long serpentine neck attached to a cone-shaped head shot out in front of them.

The mouth, decorated with blood-stained teeth, hovered above them. They screamed. An instant later only Fanzini was screaming because the guard had been snatched up into the jaws, and following a sickening crunch, was gone altogether. Fanzini's horse bucked and tossed him to the ground, along with his bag of paints and his easel, and then both horses screeched and galloped away. Not fast enough—with two swift snaps the horses were swallowed as well.

And while Fanzini lay there flat on his back, this huge creature chewing what was left of the horses, Fanzini got a full look at the dragon as it stepped from behind the outcropping, sending a tremor through the earth.

Its arched spine was half as high as the cliff faces, and when it tipped back to gulp down its meal, its head was level with the treetops. The legs and body were a swirl of rainbow colors, giving way to a head an intense brimstone red. Except for the head and the tip of its tail, which always remained the same deep crimson, the dragon's prism of colors shifted like a rainbow wreathed in fog. Gossamer wings, hardly more substantial than spider webs but extending the full length of its body, were tucked to its sides.

After the dragon licked away the blood dribbling down its pointy chin, it peered at Fanzini with amber eyes made up of clusters of smaller amber eyes, each one with a black pupil of its own. It lowered its head, too swiftly for Fanzini to scramble away, and the pupils moved together, concentrating into one larger pupil—big enough that Fanzini could see his own trembling face in the reflection.

The dragon, so close Fanzini could touch the fuzz of white hair fringing the dragon's nostrils if he'd dared, studied him for a moment, then expelled a hot breath that reeked of rancid meat.

Thanks for the little joke, the dragon said.

Though the dragon spoke with perfect enunciation, its lips did not move. Instead, the voice resonated all around, as if a chorus of dragons hidden in the trees spoke the same words.

Fanzini felt much like a blade of grass under the swing of an approaching scythe. Joke? he squeaked.

Humor, little man, the dragon said. Dragon humor. You said he would eat his words. Well, I ate him and his words.

The dragon filled up the forest with peals of laughter, spraying Fanzini with specks of spittle. Luckily the laughing went on long enough that Fanzini was able to get his wits about him. Legend had it that dragons were the vainest creatures on Earth. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage.

I have a position! he cried.

The dragon ceased laughing and opened its multitude of eyes within eyes. A position? What kind of position?

A proposition! I mean, I have a proposition.

Oh, well, that's not at all unusual, the dragon said. "You piqued my interest there for a moment, little man. No one's ever tried to save themselves by telling me they have a position before. But a proposition, well, everyone who has ever made me one of those I've gobbled