Dragon's Isolation - Miranda Martin Page 0,5

keep it light with Amara, I am worried too. Ladon hasn’t woken up, and while I’ve tried to keep it from her, Ormarr is getting worse too. While Ladon is in a coma, Ormarr is extremely sick and aggressive, though conscious.

Rosalind ordered the quarantine, but was it in time?

All I know now is that the two males are sick, but then I haven’t seen anyone else since. Are more of us sick? When I’ve gone to get supplies from Bert, he passes on the latest news, but it’s more rumor than fact.

According to Bert, more Zmaj have fallen ill, but he doesn’t have names. Some of the humans he said have ‘flu’-like symptoms, but I don’t know what that means. I’d like to ask Amara but if I do, she’ll want to know why I want to know. Too many questions would come of that.

I have to protect her, even if I’m protecting her from herself. She worries too much.

Someone emerges from a building across the street from me and stops. I wave, looking to see if I know them, but it’s a human I don’t recognize. They’re carrying a large bag under one arm and have a piece of cloth wrapped around their head and covering most of their face.

“Hello,” I call, waving.

The human, I think it’s a male, backs through the door he came out of and disappears. Under normal circumstances, I’d investigate further. These are not normal times. It makes my scales itch to walk away from a mystery, but I promised Amara.

He probably didn’t want to risk exposing himself. Bert said that most of the humans are afraid too, like Amara. How can I blame them? There is no way to fight this except hope you don’t get it. We don’t even know if it’s deadly or if it will pass.

It’s strange for a Zmaj to get sick. Rare, even. I dimly recall being ill to my stomach ages ago, but that’s because I ate meat that had turned bad and I missed it. I was ill then, but nothing like what they say of this. I did not fall into a coma.

They say Ladon had a fever. That’s weirdest of all, and I can only imagine it because Amara described it for me. Our physiology is cold-blooded—we don’t get fevers. If anything, we love the warmth. We’re products of Tajss, a desert planet. Warmth has always been my friend. I prefer it to being cold. Now I’m supposed to be afraid of being warm?

Bah. Ridiculous.

I stretch out my stride until my muscles twinge with the effort. It’s so good to be outside. I wish I could have brought Malcolm. It’s not good for him to be pent up inside. He needs sunshine, fresh air, and room to work his muscles. He’s growing so big and strong. My heart swells, and I can’t stop the smile on my face.

Amara is my treasure, my love, but Malcolm is my pride. He’s so wise for his few years, but rambunctious as any good male should be. Ready to fight, to go to war, to protect what is his. He is a stunningly brilliant child.

My thoughts turn to Calista. I should check on her and make sure she and Illadon are okay. She is without her male. I’m sure some of our community are keeping in touch with her, but I want to do it myself. I owe that and so much more to Ladon.

How could I look him in the eye when he recovers—and he will recover—if I hadn’t done all I could to make sure his female and his child are being cared for? I’ll stop by on my way home. If I knock on the door then move to the end of the hallway, I won’t risk exposure, but I’ll also know that Calista has anything she needs.

Satisfaction warms my heart. I’m turning the last corner before the airlock and come to a stop. One of the males who stands guard is sitting at the airlock. Before I see him, I hear him coughing. He doesn’t look well. His skin is a pasty white color. More of the moisture they call sweat than is normal is beaded on his forehead.

“Hello,” I call, staying at the corner.

He coughs hard into his elbow before looking up. “What?” He’s wheezing and looks ready to pass out.

“You do not look well, friend,” I say.

“No shit?”

“No,” I say. “It would be wise for you to get medical attention.”

“Yeah, too bad we