The Last Dragon Shifter

Chapter Two

Weapons and miscellaneous tools filled the room. Enchanted sabers, elemental magic-infused rifles, and charmed protective gear and shields lined the walls. Whether someone was looking for a simple ceremonial sword or the latest, most expensive revolver, her father had it all. Looking around at the expertly crafted artillery, no one could say her father lacked talent.

In a far corner, Naomi's father, Martin, was deep in concentration as he worked with his mineral-powered band saw. Naomi stood before him, waving to get his attention. Looking up, he gave her a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek. Even though he smelled like he'd been around fire and brimstone all day (which he had), Naomi didn't mind. To her, his scent of smoke and metal meant she was truly home.

"How was school, honey?" he asked.

"Fine," Naomi said, brushing over the day's events. "What are you working on?"

He held out his hand so she could see a steel plate that outlined several throwing stars. There were holes drilled into it, creating a diamond pattern. The sleek steel glistened up at her, hinting that it was going to be a promising piece.

"I have to cut these out, clean them up, then Orin is going to infuse them with some charms." He motioned toward some blue sapphire gems that would go into the holes.

"It'll make them faster and the aim truer."

"Who's it for?" Naomi asked.

"An anonymous buyer, but they were very specific. This material comes from the mountains of Collis," her father said.

"Wow," she replied, genuinely impressed.

Tyrra was made up of several regions. Patria, the major metropolitan area where they lived; the woodsy land of Silva, home to several clans of elves; tropical Aequor, a hot spot for summer houses and water sprites; and Collis, a mountainous area with powerful winds, where many griffon and kitsune shifters grew up. The landowners in Collis were particularly picky with their exports. Getting material mined from the mountains was always a chore, but Naomi's father haggled with them often.

"Can I help?" she asked, eyeing the band saw. She'd been dying to try it out for years.

"Too advanced," he said. "Besides, don't you have homework?"

"It's Firan, and officially the weekend. I can do it later. Are there any sword hilts I can work on?" Naomi glanced around.

A low whistle rang out, as Orin waltzed in from the back room.

"Sword hilts. This girl sure knows how to party," he said as he strode in with lithe grace.

"Hi, Orin." Naomi greeted the water mage cheerfully, ignoring his sarcasm.

As her father's business partner, Orin was the more flamboyant part of the team. Boisterous laughter, often preceded by obscene jokes, was a given if Orin was around. He made an even bigger nuisance of himself as he hovered over her father's shoulder. He didn't need to look up to sense his partner's presence. Martin glared at Orin and rubbed his ebony black forehead in frustration.

"Orin, I've told you not to do that a hundred times. It's like you're asking me to injure you. Tell me, do you want to die?"

"No. I want workers' comp," Orin said. Picking up one of the completed throwing stars, he whistled in appreciation.

"This is a beauty, Marty."

"Give me ten more minutes and they're all yours. Got some charm orders in for them," Martin said. His response only garnered a whine from Orin.

"I don't want to work anymore. The festival starts today." He looked excitedly at them. When he received blank stares, he pushed onward. "The Unity Festival, people!"