Scott gasped, his breath catching in his throat. Shock, more than exertion, left him gasping for air. He rose slowly, his legs unsteady, and moved toward the open window, leaning out to peer into the inky blackness. How could he possibly spot a black dragon against a night sky? He fumbled for his phone. 911? An amber alert for a small boy last seen exiting a window in the company of a six-foot-long dragon? No. That would land him in a padded room, not reunite him with Tober. Fire department? Air National Guard? NASA? Storm chasers? He remembered the radar and infrared technology used during his school's storm-chasing projectâ¦
"Night vision!" he exclaimed, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him. He bolted from the bedroom, down the hall, to the closet he shared with Annie. His eyes scanned the shelves until he located the black case tucked away on the second shelf, above the hanging clothes. With trembling hands, he snapped it open, revealing the bulky night vision lenses. He flipped the power switch, the device whirring to life. He brought the lenses to his eyes, quickly pulling it away from the intense green glow that amplified the closet's dim interior. He adjusted the focus, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs, the image slowly resolving into the night outside.
Night vision goggles secured, Scott dashed out the front door, his gaze sweeping the night sky above Tober's open window. Thick clouds obscured the higher altitudes, a relief; the dragon would be easily visible there. He'd expected the black dragon and Tober to stand out against the clouds, but the sky remained stubbornly dark. He crossed the street, scanning the inky expanse above his neighbor's house. Nothing. The full moon, bright in the eastern sky, briefly washed out his vision, but even once his eyes adjusted, the sky remained empty. He avoided the glare of the streetlights as he continued his search, his systematic scan of the neighborhood proving fruitless. He checked his own backyard, his own bedroom, his gaze sweeping the neighboring houses. The absurdity of searching for a black dragon at night began to dawn on him.
Then, a flash of bright green in his night vision gogglesâa quick, blurry movement high above. He froze, slowly rotating the device back to the spot heâd just scanned. High in the branches of his backyard white oak, taller than any other tree nearby, he saw it again: a bright green blur. Adjusting the focus, he made out Tober's hand, then his faceâwaving, smiling down at him. Still in the dragon's grasp, but the dragon was no longer flying. It perched high in the tree's V-shaped crown, its long tail wrapped securely around a branch, its wings folded, its front legs gently holding Tober.
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Scott frantically scanned his backyard, searching for something, anything, useful. A ladder? Jeffery's long ladder, perhaps, the one he'd used to install his antenna when he'd ditched cable? He peered through the sparse line of trees separating their yards. No luck, Jeffery had returned it weeks ago. The garden hose? He could try spraying the dragon and Tober out of the tree, but that seemed⦠unwise. A lure? A piece of it's eggshell? Absurd. Something shiny? A ball? He searched for one of Tober's toys, always scattered across the yard. In the pale moonlight, his gaze fell on Mel's flowerbed. It was a mess, flowers smashed, stems ripped, deep claw marks gouging the earth. He quickly raised the night vision goggles to the tree again. Could the dragon like flowers?
Scott watched, his heart pounding, as the dragon, holding Tober, munched on something, a flower stem? Did dragons eat flowers? Could that mean Tober was safe? Tober, having stopped waving, looked around the neighborhood, his mouth moving in a silent conversation with his reptilian captor. Scott could faintly hear Tober's babble carried on the gentle breeze. The boy seemed blissfully unaware of his precarious situation.
"Tober, stay right there! I'll be right back!" Scott yelled, the words barely audible above the wind.
Tober, still smiling, gave a thumbs-up. Scott raced around to the side door, bursting into the living room. He caught a glimpse of Tober high in the tree through the window before turning to the table. He located the padded envelope nestled beneath some mail, a manila envelope with bubble wrap inside. He carefully pulled out a stiff piece of card stock, almost the same size as the envelope. One side was blank; the other displayed shrink-wrapped flower parts in small squares, each labeled with a tiny black-printed tag. Common blue violet stamen, common blue violet carpel, cardinal stamen, cardinal carpel... fireweed, bloodroot, black-eyed Susans, and pink lady slippers. Twelve packages in total, arranged in six rows of two, tightly packed but clearly visible, showcasing a vibrant array of colors. These were the inner flower parts, "petal-free," according to the website. Would they attract the dragon? Should he open the shrink wrap and scatter them on the lawn? He picked up the envelope, shaking it lightly. Something colorful fluttered out, landing on the floor. It was a glossy marketing flyer for flashflowers.biz, the name emblazoned in bright yellow letters against a vibrant green background. "Best source for all your flower parts!" it proclaimed. "Bulk and specialty sets available." He flipped it over. In a large white oval bubble, the words "Free Recipes" stood out. Below, a list of recipes caught his eye: "Ogre Hide Brownies," "Leprechaun Luck," "Fairy Flight," and finally... "Dragon Bait."