Chapter Thirteen. The Iridessa Bird.
Poplyn informs me that the iridessa bird will be found nesting in the hollow of a tree, part way up the mountain. If the bird’s so relatively easy to get to, why doesn’t the dragon merchant retrieve the bird himself? Sure, he looked to be in his late fifties, but would it be so hard to grab a ladder and snatch the bird out of its nest? Not that I should complain, by getting the bird I’ll be able to get Ashlyn a dragon without having to use her money, but I feel like I’m missing something. Things are usually worth something because they are rare.
I pause.
Poplyn walks on a few more steps before stopping and turning to look at me. “What doing?”
“Are these iridessa birds an endangered species?” As much as I want to get Ashlyn a dragon for Christmas, I’m not about to trade an endangered creature to do so. Ashlyn would be furious, too.
Poplyn shakes his head.
“Are you sure?”
Poplyn nods. “Rare-ish, yes. Endangered, no.”
I twist my lips as I look at him. He wouldn’t lie, would he? “Ashlyn would be very unhappy if she found out it was endangered and I exchanged it for a dragon, and so would I.”
Poplyn huffs. “No endangered!”
“Fine.” I will just have to trust him. I resume walking, and Poplyn does too. “What’s the catch? If the bird is just sitting in the tree, why doesn’t the dragon merchant just get it himself?”
Poplyn doesn’t respond, and I take that to mean that there very much is a catch.
I pause again. “Poplyn…”
“It fine,” he says, still walking.
I cross my arms, refusing to follow until he explains.
He huffs and finally stops, spinning around. “Bird has song.”
I shake my head, confused. “All birds have a song.”
He sighs, dramatically loud. “This one…confuse people.”
“Whadda ya mean?”
“The song spin your head. Forget what doing so go home.”
I scoff. “You mean to tell me I will get all the way to the bird’s nest and it will start singing and I’ll get confused, forget why I’m there and head home? How the heck am I going to get a dragon if I can’t even capture the bird?”
“Oh, calm it!” he snaps. “Bird song no affect me. I get bird.”
I can’t believe this! I rub my hand over my face trying to hold in my rising temper. “The whole reason I’m exchanging the bird for a dragon is so that I’m getting Ashlyn’s gift with my own resources. If I can’t get the bird, this whole thing is pointless. I could have just paid for the dragon with Ashlyn’s money!”
“Fine!” He throws his hands up, waving dismissively. “You try get bird then.”
I clench my jaw and close my eyes, breathing heavily through my nose. It is wrong to hurt Ashlyn’s elf. It is wrong to hurt Ashlyn’s elf. It is wrong to hurt Ashlyn’s elf.
Alright. I’m a smart man. I can think of something. I can’t let the little biter get the bird. I need to do it myself. If the bird song confuses people, I just need to not hear the song and I should be fine. But if it was as easy as that, wouldn’t others have just stuffed their ears and captured the bird?
“Will stuffing my ears to block out the sound work?” I ask Poplyn.
“No.”
“What if I sing over the bird?”
He shakes his head.
I hate to have to ask him but… “Any suggests?”
“Bird no sing, bird no confuse.”
“Right.” So how will I sneak up on it so it won’t sing? This is not going to be as easy as I first thought.
“Bird like eat spindlefly.”
It must be an insect. I used to catch insects as a kid; it should be easy. “I assume I can find some around here?”
Poplyn nods.
“Where?”
He points to some trees off to the left.
“Right, let’s catch one then.”
If I can lure the bird out of the tree with this spindlefly, I can catch it by surprise before it has the chance to sing.
“One problem,” Poplyn says.
I sigh. “Of course there is.”
“Ember snake like it too. Guard bush where find.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Mate, I’m an Aussie farmer. I ain’t scared of no snakes. Besides, wouldn’t a snake be in brumation since it is winter?”
Poplyn shakes his head. “Hot snake, stay active, protect bird food source.”
If this is the only way to catch the bird, I’ll chance it. “Right. I’m still game. Let’s go.”
Poplyn leads me to a bush where this insect is supposed to be. All the bushes and trees surrounding it are covered in snow, but this bush is free of it, it’s red leaves almost glowing like dying embers. Small, round berries, which look like they are made of spun honey, glisten from the stems. Below the bush, for about a meter in circumference, the ground is dirt.
Unease prickles in my stomach and my senses heighten. The bush may be pretty, but something inside of me is screaming a warning. Warning or not, I have to get this bug so I can catch the bird and get Ashlyn her dragon.
I check for signs of a snake but don’t see any. “Is the snake poisonous?” I ask Poplyn, keeping my voice low.
“No,” he whispers back.
I hear a hiss and glance back at the bush. A brownish-orange snake, no bigger than my forearm, slithers around the bottom of the bush and out of sight.
That little thing is nothing. I’ve dealt with much bigger, and more venomous, snakes than that.
While it’s still out of sight, I sneak forward and snatch a few berries off the bush. There is an enraged hiss, and the snake’s head bursts out of the bushes. It spits fire onto my hand. I cry out, stumbling back and dropping the berries. I hold in a curse as I plunge my hand into the snow.
The snake watches from the bush, thankfully staying put.
I glare at Poplyn, nostrils flaring.
He looks around, feigning innocence.
“Poplyn,” I grit out through my teeth. “You could have told me it spits fire.”
He shrugs, hands up. “Whoops.”
I close my eyes, pushing down the desire to throttle the little elf—or shove him into the bush and see how he likes getting spat on with fire.
A low humming draws my attention to the bush. An insect that’s a cross between a wasp and a dragonfly hovers above the berries. It must be the iridessa bird’s favourite treat.
But how to get it without upsetting the snake?
“Go around the other side of the bush and distract the snake,” I order Poplyn.
Poplyn huffs but does what I ask.
I pick up the berries that I dropped and hold my hand out flat. I inch closer to the bush. I whistle a low tune and the spindlefly darts toward me. It lands on my palm, and I cup it with my other.
“C’mon, Poplyn.”
Poplyn appears in front of me and I follow him to the base of a tree. I can see the iridessa bird’s nest in the hollow.
“Here.” I hand the spindlefly over to Poplyn and take my jacket off. “You draw the bird out and I’ll capture it.”
Poplyn moves back a few steps, holds his cupped hands up and tweets out a melody that I am assuming sounds like an iridessa bird. We don’t have to wait long before a little head pops out. It’s greyish white like the merchant said it would be.
Poplyn opens his hands and the bird lets out a shrill cry, which I am assuming is of joy, and dives for the bug.
It lands on Poplyn’s arm, and I scoop it up with my jacket. It flaps its wings and squawks as I wrestle the jacket around it. I tuck it into a ball, holding it close to my chest until it settles down.
“Let’s go.”
We race back toward the market as fast as we can. The dragon merchant is waiting for us at the start of the wood and I’m glad we don’t have to search him out. He looks up in surprise when he sees us, obviously thinking I’d fail. I slow as we near him and he climbs down from the cart.
“You actually got it?”
“Of course,” I say, half offended that he thought I wouldn’t be able to get it.
I open the jacket enough to show him the bird’s head. It squawks its displeasure.
He lets out a gleeful laugh, rubbing his hands together. He grabs a crate from the back of the cart. It has straw on the bottom of it. I manoeuvre the bird into it, and it claws at the door, screeching unhappily. I tip the three berries I bought with me in through the crack in the door and it stops.
“What’s so special about this bird that you’re willing to trade a dragon egg for it?” I ask the merchant.
“By spring it will lose these dull feathers and beautiful iridescent ones will grow in its place. Wealthy women will pay quiet a lot to wear one of those feathers.”
“The bird isn’t harmed, is it?” I should have asked these questions before I agreed to capture the bird.
“No. It regrows any feather taken. I will treat it well, I assure you.”
If it’s going to make his fortune, I have no doubt that he will.
The merchant places the crate into the back of the cart. “You want a hatched dragon or an egg?”
I step forward to look at the dragon and the remaining eggs. A hatched dragon would prove difficult to hide in the next few days, especially on the day of the wedding.
“An egg.” I glance between the two. “I’ll take that frost blue one.”
The merchant pulls a booklet out from inside his jacket. “The care manual. Do not lose that if you want a thriving pet.”
I put my coat back on, take the manual and place it in the inside pocket.
The merchant pulls a woollen pouch out of the cart and gently places the egg inside. He hands it to me. I’m surprised by how warm it is. I tuck it close to my body.
“Now, ensure to keep it warm or it won’t hatch. Do not take it out of that pouch until it is time for it to hatch.”
“When will it hatch?” I’m hoping it’s not too long. I want Ashlyn to have her dragon as soon as possible.
“In her own time, but it should be before the new year.”
“It’s a she?” I’m surprised he can tell before it hatches. I don’t think Ashlyn will care either way.
“Well, I call them all that. You won’t know until she hatches.”
“Right.”
“Pleasure doing business with you.” He tips his hat and climbs into his cart, driving away.
I glance down at the pouch. “We did it, Poplyn.”
I can hardly believe I’m actually giving Ashlyn a dragon for Christmas. I certainly wouldn’t have found a present like this on Earth. Now to keep it hidden from Ashlyn, and to make sure it stays warm.
I take a few steps and freeze, my head shooting up as a shrill whistle fills the air.
Six tall elf-like beings appear out of nowhere, surrounding me.
One of the males step forward. “Samuel Evans, you are under arrest.”
“What?”
Two more males grab my arms as a female yanks the dragon egg out of my grip.
“Careful with that!”
I hear a gleeful laugh and swing my head down to where Poplyn is standing. He sniggers before disappearing.
Oh, that little biter! He planned this! Ashlyn was right not to trust him.
“Prepare yourself,” one of the beings say. Before I can do anything, the ground falls out from beneath me.
(Stay tuned for chapter fourteen!)
© Rochelle L. Sharpe, 2026.