An emerging author, Mari LaRoche (b. 1983) was born in Fairhope, Alabama and lived in several southern states before making her home in northern Ohio. She began writing for NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month, an online creative writing project that takes place online each November. In 2014, she submitted her fantasy, “End of Order,” to Amazon’s Breakthrough Novelist contest, advancing to the quarter-finals. In 2017, her thriller, “Windows to the Soul,” was a finalist in James Patterson’s Co-Author Competition. She is an LCCC graduate who earned her MA in Writing from Johns Hopkins University in 2023.

According to her website, LaRoche enjoys reading and writing, cuddling her cats, watching movies, and collecting tattoos. She also presents workshops to local community college students on the challenges and rewards of participating in online writing communities like Scribophile, Inked Voices, and Masterclass. Her stories: “Secrets and Gold” (Seven Deadly Sins: Avarice), “Witches and Kings” (Seven Deadly Sins: Lust), and “The Ghostly Loch” (Secrets In Our Cities) appeared first print under a former pen name.

Find Mari on Facebook, Twitter (@MariLaRoche), or on her website.

“Secrets and Gold”

“Ever wanted to see a real live dragon? Perhaps even ride one? Well, here’s your chance! King Amaury bested this wurm in battle, and now you can partake in his conquest!” Colle capered about as he called to the crowd, the bells on his motley suit jingling in time with his movements. “Five pence for a look-see, ten for a flight!”

Cerdreq kept his eyes closed as the jester-turned-dragon-promoter barked. He knew what he’d see: gawking children, their fearful parents, and the iron bars covering the dragon pit. The people would stare; then, if he so much as twitched, their cacophony would start. Adults would scream and usher their families away, while children surged closer.

Every day the same thing. For six interminable years.

Cerdreq, champion of the skies, first consort of Aisynth the Brood Mother, was little more than a mangy pet to a human king.

And yet, people still travelled far to spend their last few pence to see King Amaury’s dragon.

Curse King Amaury and that foul witch, Nostrea. Curse them both to the Undercroft. He sighed, knowing his maledictions were useless.

He should have known that ship packed full of raw, bloody meat was too good to be true. If he’d been more cautious, he would’ve seen the mystical trap, but his focus had been on the unexpected bounty. That meat would feed his clutch for days.

By the time he spotted the hidden archers, it was too late. His greed had trapped him.

Cerdreq had breathed red-hot fire on the soldiers before calling a warning to Aisynth. “Go! Return to the nest! Our offspring need you!” He’d glanced back to make sure she was safely away and flown headlong into a sticky web of dark magic.

Shifting so he was fully obscured by the pit’s shadows, Cerdreq scratched at the skin beneath the heavy, silver, magic- laden collar clasped around his neck. His viridian scales had long been rubbed away by the chafing of the arcane torque. “Stop that.” A feather-light touch on his foot caused him to crack one eyelid. Princess Emelyne stood at his side, hereyes full of worry. “You’ll start it bleeding again.” She scrambled over his leg. After a moment, he felt her fingers testing bits of his scabby skin on either side of the collar. Small, cautious probings that tickled. It took all his self-control not to laugh.

“The rot is spreading. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” Her voice cracked with heartbreak.

“What do you care?” He grumbled. Even whispering, his voice caused earthquakes. There were alarmed exclamations from the gawkers above.

“No need to worry! That’s just the mighty wurm waking up!” Colle’s quick wit and sharp tongue served him well. “No, no, don’t leave! Cer can’t wait to meet his adoring public!”

Cerdreq snorted. “I hope he got their money first.”

“If you die, my father will turn his attention back to me.” Emelyne ignored his quip. “Call me a coward, but living in your shadow has its advantages.”

He studied her slight form, his lips curling in a grotesque smile as she put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrow at him like he was a recalcitrant hatchling. Long brown hair hung loose over her shoulders as she tilted her head away from him so the right side of her face, the one touched by Aisynth’s fire, was hidden behind glossy tresses.

A strange twinge seized Cerdreq. It confused him how attached he felt to this young woman. He’d hate for something bad to happen to her.

Well, something worse than being dragon-burned.

Emelyne would carry those scars to her grave. Even if Aisynth agreed to spare the drop of blood needed to heal the poisonous wound, humans reacted differently to dragon fire. Their skin was too fragile. The healing might make it worse.

Cerdreq looked down at the oozing burn covering most of his chest. Just like Emelyne’s, it had never fully healed.

He had tried to stop Aisynth. Infuriated by his capture, she had hurled balls of blue flame at the army, the docks, even the town.

Princess Emelyne had rushed from an inn as it exploded in flames. She’d frozen in place when Cerdreq crashed to the ground in front of her, claws ripping at the netting in a futile attempt at escape. Instead of running away, Emelyne had moved towards him.

“Hold still, I can free you.” She’d summoned a blade of pure white magic and was reaching for the magic rope when Aisynth screamed again and plummeted towards them.

Too late, Cerdreq had thrown his body in front of a massive cerulean fireball to deflect it. The liquid fire had burst, splashing onto Emelyne.

Shaking his head, Cerdreq sighed. “There’s nothing you can do.”

Colle burst into the arena, red-faced with anger. When he saw Emelyne, he wagged a meaty finger at her. “Shut him up! He’s scaring away the patrons!” The bells around his wrist rang, accentuating every word.

Emelyne covered her mouth with her hands, hiding her mirth. Regaining her composure, she assumed a solemn expression. “My apologies, Master Fool. I was just cleaning Cer’s scales, so they shine brighter.”

Colle opened his mouth to retort but quickly subsided when the doors of the pit opened. Guards surrounded the upper rim, pushing the remaining onlookers back. King Amaury entered, Queen Isolt at his side. She halted just inside Cerdreq’s enclosure, her nose wrinkling and her lips twisting in disgust.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, does the smell of scale rot offend your delicate nostrils? I shall endeavor to waste away in a more pleasant fashion.” Cerdreq exhaled, smoke rising from his nose. “I could roast something more palatable for you. A fool in motley, perhaps?”

Colle’s eyes widened, and he fled in a flurry of jingles and jangles.

Emelyne crouched to hide from her father and stepmother. Cerdreq shifted, blocking her from view. The queen growled deep in her throat and swept out in a huff.

“You will not speak so to my wife, Dragon.” Amaury stepped closer, his visage stern. “Ormkirk was targeted last night. The inhabitants are poor folk, but hard workers. They should not be left defenseless against bandits and cutthroats.” He paused, gesturing to someone.

Two pages carried in a map table, set it down, and fled, nearly upsetting it in their haste.

Cerdreq lumbered to his feet, curling his tail around the princess. Craning his neck down, he focused on the map.

“The Fens River marks the border between Aestavell and Evairis.” Amaury traced the long, winding blue snake with one finger. “Mihill, Evairis’ sovereign, ordered the raid on Ormkirk.”

“I fail to see how that’s my concern.”

A small thump from Emelyne warned him to watch his tongue. Too bad he didn’t intend to listen.

“You’ll fly across the Fens and burn their crystalline lighthouse.” Amaury laid both hands on the table and gave Cerdreq a savage look. “Nostrea will accompany you.”

Cerdreq shuddered, his hide rippling. Emelyne placed the palm of her hand against his flank. He took strength from her touch, baring his fangs in an empty threat as the witch entered the dome.

Nostrea lifted a hand, glittery purple energy shimmering on her skin in the dim lighting. She gestured at Cerdreq and the dark magic in the collar warmed.

He grunted at the pain of arcane fire on his skin, shifting as far away as possible from the witch while still hiding Emelyne from sight.

“The beast will comply, Your Highness. As always.” Nostrea trailed her hand across King Amaury’s arm. “Isn’t that right, dragon?”

Magic bit his skin and he writhed in pain. He only had one choice if he wanted it to stop. Cerdreq dipped his head. “Your wish is my command.”

*****

At dusk, the witch returned. Cerdreq leapt airborne, clearing the dome’s roof in one bound. Nostrea prodded him with dark magic, her silent communication to him, perfected over the years to inflict pain but not harm.

He turned away from her touch, flying over the wide Fens River, the famed lighthouse of Evairis coming into view halfway across. He could just see the town’s buildings, dark lumps against the surrounding cliffs. There would be nowhere for people to run. He adjusted, taking a direct course to the lighthouse.

Nostrea leaned forward, shouting, “Sink the ships first, block their harbor.”

Cerdreq’s heart sank as he inhaled, heating air in his throat. He swooped lower, spitting flame at the ships. Men screamed, diving overboard as fire engulfed the decks.

Cerdreq tried to resume his original course, but a jolt of magic stabbed him. “Now the docks. Quickly!” Nostrea’s glee was unrestrained.

Cerdreq turned inland, belching flame onto the wooden docks. Only then was he allowed to head for the port town’s crystalline tower. He landed on the sandy beach, dipping his shoulder so Nostrea could dismount.

She uttered a spell and the collar grew heavier, weighing his head down to the ground.

His neck was twisted so that he couldn’t move at all. He watched through narrowed eyes as Nostrea entered the building, bursting doors with her magic to search for the treasury. Within minutes, she exited with a large crate levitated in the air before her. She set it down on the sand before climbing up and settling between his wings.

“Destroy the tower!” She snapped her fingers and he was free.

Cerdreq spun around, whipping the lighthouse with his tail. Glass panes tinkled as they shattered and fell. He hoped the tower master had abandoned his post. Hovering, Cerdreq clutched the treasure chest with his back claws.

“Take me home, dragon.” Nostrea sighed, stretching along his back like a contented cat.

Cerdreq pushed himself forward, wondering if he could dump her and escape before she activated the collar.

*****

“Cer?” Emelyne’s voice drifted down the corridor. “I brought you dinner.” She entered the pit backward, dragging a long haunch of meat.

“That was thoughtful of you.” Cerdreq lifted his head and watched her struggle. “But you shouldn’t have. A monster like me doesn’t deserve kindness.”

“You’re not…” She grunted and dug her heels into the dirt, tugging the meat closer. “A monster.”

Cerdreq reached around her and nabbed the meat. He charred it with a spurt of flame, then popped it in his mouth and swallowed it – bone, gristle, and all.

“You let me drag that all the way here, just for that?” Emelyne glared at him.

“It’s good for you. Keeps you strong.” Cerdreq gave her a fang-filled smile.

She laughed, sobering when she caught sight of the mound of gold and loot piled along the far wall. She kicked a chalice, sending it spinning into the darkness. “Father will never be happy, will he? He’s the wealthiest man in five kingdoms, but still he wants more. Just look how he uses you to bleed his own people dry.”

Cerdreq shook his head. “Nostrea only feeds his greed, whispering lies in his ear.” He clawed at the torque. “Miserable witch. If only I wasn’t wearing this collar…”

Emelyne cast him a shrewd look. “What if we could change things?”

Cerdreq angled his head to see her better. “Princess, you know Nostrea seals the dome with dark arts. I’m no help to anyone trapped the way that I am.”

Emelyne’s mouth twisted mischievously. She cupped her hands, whispering an incantation into her palms. Bright white light spilled from her fingers and she threw the newly-formed orb up toward the ceiling, fully illuminating the dragon pit.

Cerdreq watched, transfixed, as the orb flattened against the hole in the dome’s roof and pushed the witch’s magic seal off the exit. He snapped his head back around. “How did you do that?”

“My mother was a bright witch. I inherited her powers.” A fearful glimmer touched Emelyne’s expression. “My father doesn’t know.”

Remembering the white blade she’d summoned when trying to rescue him, Cerdreq knelt to let her climb onto his back. “Your secret is safe with me, Princess. Gold and secrets – that’s all I have now.”

“Gold!” Emelyne slid down and scooped two large handfuls of treasure into her skirt. Awkwardly returning to his back, she laughed. “I have an idea.”

*****

Flying with the princess felt different. Nostrea steered him with pain, the townsfolk with sharp jabs of their heels. Emelyne used gentle caresses and tentative taps on his shoulders to guide him.

They landed in a freshly harvested field. She slid from his back unceremoniously. “Wait here.”

The villagers were gathering at the edge of the farm with torches held high. Some gripped tools as makeshift weapons.

Emelyne fearlessly marched toward them. Cerdreq didn’t hear the conversation, but she soon disappeared inside a hut with several of the farmers.

For the first time in years, Cerdreq watched the stars move across the sky without bars obscuring his view. “Thank you, Donal. And you, Hannah. Good night!” Emelyne’s laugh carried across the field a short time later. She strode back to Cerdreq and hugged his massive foreleg. “Thank you, Cer.”

“I—” He hesitated. “I’m not sure what I did, Princess.”

“All this time and you still won’t call me Eme?” She looked up at him, the moon’s glow transforming her into a radiant fae-like creature. “The gold will help repair their buildings. Donal is a blacksmith, he can melt the gold and reshape it into coins.”

Cerdreq glanced back at the farm. “These people have nothing to give, Emelyne. I hope you asked for naught.” “Only a favor.”

“And just what might that be?”

“It’s almost dawn, we need to get back before Nostrea realizes we’re gone.” Emelyne scaled his leg, settled into position, and tapped his shoulder.

Try as he might, he couldn’t make her tell him what she’d asked for.

*****

Vathe lay in smoking ruin. Another city razed to sate Amaury’s lust for gold and glory.

Cerdreq stared at the gold filling his pit with disdain. Emelyne was right, they could change things.

*****

“Hold still.” Donal’s rough voice echoed around the dragon pit.

“I’m trying. Having the equivalent of a magic sword to my throat makes me nervous.” Cerdreq blew out his breath in a huff.

“Try harder. I’m cutting through an arcane collar; normal tools won’t do.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be free in no time.”

Cerdreq gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. If the blacksmith slipped, at least it would be a quick death. Even with his eyes closed, he could see the bright light emanating from Donal’s blade. A dull pain throbbed in his neck as the torque rubbed against his raw flesh with each pull of the cutting tool.

Snap!

The collar fell to the ground, dark purple energy briefly shimmering before fading. “My thanks.” Cerdreq rubbed his throat with one paw.

“Least I could do.” Donal reached out, hesitated, then patted Cerdreq’s shoulder.

Cerdreq watched him leave. When he was alone, he prepared his final gift to King Amaury, and settled in to wait.

*****

He was awakened by King Amaury’s shout shortly before dawn. “Dragon!”

Cerdreq lifted his head and exhaled slowly, steam rising from his nostrils.

To a wiser man, it would have been a warning. But the significance was lost on Amaury.

“Where is it?” The king’s hand went to the hilt of his sword, loosening the weapon in its scabbard.

“Wise men trust not their riches to dragons,” Cerdreq growled. The cavern shook, sending a rain of dirt and rock down on Amaury and his men.

The soldiers cowered, lifting their shields to protect themselves.

Cerdreq swung his head around. “Run away, vermin. This has naught to do with you.” He bared his fangs and let flames flicker in the back of his throat.

The guard captain cast one last look at his sovereign before leading his men in retreat.

King Amaury watched with disgust as his guards fled. He turned back to Cerdreq with a snarl. “My gold. What have you done with it?”

“I’ve kept it safe, as ordered.”

“And now I’ve come for it, miserable creature.” His beard quivered as he spoke. “Must I summon Nostrea to make you comply?”

Cerdreq made a show of bowing his head. “Of course not, Your Majesty. If gold is what you require, then gold you shall have.”

Positioning himself between Amaury and the door, Cerdreq pointed one long claw at a small niche in the back of the dragon pit.

Amaury’s face brightened, and he strode purposefully across the enclosure.

When he stood just inside, gloating over his gold, Cerdreq spun, smacking the wall with his tail. Rocks rained down, trapping the king beneath a mountain of rubble.

Leaping out of the pit, Cerdreq looked toward the castle. He would miss Emelyne.

*****

“Cer?” Emelyne’s voice echoed down the passage. She reached the entrance and stopped, hands flying to her mouth to stifle her scream.

Part of the pit had caved in, tearing the iron bars free. “Cerdreq?” Emelyne looked around.

In the center of the enclosure, a flash of silver caught her eye. The discarded collar – the blacksmith had succeeded after all.

The dragon was gone.

*****

Alarm bells rang throughout the city.

King Amaury was dead. Queen Isolt was found poisoned. Some of the king’s gold, and one of Isolt’s rings, were found in the witch’s chambers, but both Nostrea and the dragon were missing.

“The dragon is not to be harmed.” Emelyne proclaimed. “He’s as much a victim of my father’s greed as all of us. Nostrea, however, must be found – no matter the cost.”

Weeks passed, with no signs of the witch or the dragon. The people soon forgot their fear as they began celebrating their new ruler.

*****

Emelyne’s coronation day dawned bright and beautiful.

Cerdreq watched until the last of the crowd dispersed. Aestavell’s luck had changed. Emelyne would be a good queen. Turning south, he flapped away. He had a witch to hunt.

Continue Reading: 22.8 Analyzing Story Elements in “Secrets and Gold”