A Steampunk Christmas Carol by Angelique S. Anderson

If things ever tipped one way or another, the gods would surely send help or a warning. Too much evil and not enough of her to go around, though Quincy reassured her daily that she was doing more than an adequate job of maintaining the balance. Men no longer cared if they were caught or not as there were seldom any repercussions for what they did. Then she thought perhaps the evil that men did was getting more blatant than it was in the time of the Dragaleths, when the gods had first sent them to Earth.

Wylie wondered often how the Teselym had stayed hidden for so long, never being found out. They whooped and hollered after her, not believing their own eyes, and she knew come day break they would persuade themselves they had been too drunk to admit that they had actually seen a white dragon. The men she had rescued him from reeked of spirits, the scent of alcohol so heavy that it burned her nostrils temporarily until she could get far enough away. Wylie swooped in faster than human eyes could see, picked up the injured older man, and carried him high above them to safety. Arriving over a dingy back street, she spotted a man bent over in pain while two young rogues kicked and spit at him. The Dracosinum swung from her neck, its gentle ticking a welcome reminder that the Dragon hour would soon be over for another night.Ī sudden flash in her mind called her to action, and rather than finish her conversation with Quincy, she grabbed the Dracosinum in her claws and transported herself instantly to the northern United States. She let out a heavy sigh, her pearlescent dragon-scaled sides heaving with each deep intake of breath. My marriage to Adrian, being the least of them. My apologies, as I am sure you know… I have many worries on my mind. I’m only trying to respect your wishes to the best of my ability. It’s my god-sense, you know, he gently reminded her. No need to get snippety, dear, you asked me not to read your mind, but I can’t help it. So many things that humans chose to do, and that she was responsible for balancing. Wylie was grateful for the respite as the past months had been filled with violence, pain, and sadness. Why ask a question you already know the answer to? She stared across the rolling hilltops below, somewhat relieved that it was an unusually quiet night for her. I simply asked where your mind was? he responded. Well, if that doesn’t prove my point I don’t know what does. Huh? she mumbled as she was jerked from her thoughts, her glorious Teselym wings cutting through the coolness of the May night.

'W here is your mind tonight, m’dear?' Quincy’s throaty dragon voice cut through Wylie’s conscience as she soared high above a slumbering Ireland.

A Steampunk Christmas Carol by Angelique S. Anderson