Airgid paused with a chunk of bread halfway to her mouth as she saw Drokbar stiffen. The hum died down even more as the people recognized the boy was about to strike. The unsuspecting baker, kneeling on the ground in front of his oven as he attempted to stoke the flames to the proper temperature, was oblivious to the tension in the surrounding villagers. Drokbar scooted closer to the baker and his hand slowly came out of right coat pocket. Airgid sat up and leaned forward trying to get a look at what the boy was holding and noticed the villagers around the bakery weren’t even pretending to work anymore, but were leaning forward as intently as she was. Drokbar’s hand left his pocket and Airgid stifled a laugh as she saw it was a spider sparkler. The little fireworks were totally harmless, but the sparks of fire could be quite a surprise to the unsuspecting.
Airgid shook her head and popped the last piece of bread in her mouth wondering how Drokbar was planning on getting out of the baker’s sight before he was caught. She leaned forward again trying to see and frowned when she saw the baker and Drokbar still standing in the same place. The baker was still oblivious with his head almost in his oven and Drokbar standing over the baker with the firework poised over the baker’s loose pants. But Drokbar wasn’t looking at the baker. Instead he was looking into the sky with his hand shading his eyes.
The spider dropped from Drokbar’s hand and into the baker’s pants and the baker immediately jumped up howling and jumping around and smacking his pants as the sparks danced. The villagers laughter rang out across the town square and Airgid smiled. It faltered when she saw Drokbar still standing with his arm outstretched and staring into the sky seemingly unaware of the cursing baker shaking his fist in Drokbar’s face. Drokbar’s lips moved and she squinted trying to make out what he had said.
Airgid set her bread aside and walked out from under the pub’s overhang, glancing at the sky as she walked closer to Drokbar. His lips moved again and she thought she heard him say “It can’t be.” Drokbar stumbled back against the oven wall. “Dragon!!!” Drokbar screamed. “Dragon!!!” He turned desperately to the baker.
The baker’s frown faded away as he rubbed his rear in good humor. He patted Drokbar on the shoulder. “You got me there young Drokbar, good and fair, but I’m not going to believe a dragon dropped that spider down my pants.”
Drokbar grabbed the baker and spun him around violently. “Look!” He shouted jabbing his finger in front of the baker’s face and towards the sky.
The baker good-naturedly put his hand above his eyes to block the sun and squinted into the sky as his other hand continued to scratch. “Ohhh,” the baker said sarcastically, his droopy mustache quivering with laughter. “I see the dreaded dragon. Look at it swooping down and…” He trailed off and stopped rubbing. The baker’s face was perpetually red either from being too close to the oven fires or from eating too many of his own pastries, but the color seemed to fade from his cheeks and his chins wobbled as he stuttered. “D-d-dragon,” he whispered, trying to force the words out.
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