Ygnacia’s Hoard

Ygnacia’s Hoard

“They’re mine! You can’t have them!” Ygnacia shrieked, striking viciously.

“Owww!” The Littlest Giant sucked the back of her hand, whimpering. 

“Did she get you? I’m sorry, Dumplin’! Move away from her… Yggi, you’re being naughty!… She’s a dragon, that one! Look at her, guarding her treasure. She can’t even cover all of it!”

“A-a dragon?” The child-giant’s mouth made an O.

“Yes, lately she’s turned into one.”

Mouth still agape, the youngster took three more quick backward steps and bumped into the far wall.

“She can turn into—a-a dragon?” Her small, plump finger pointed right at Ygnacia.

“Well, not really a dragon, but almost. Yggi can’t fly very well, and I’ve never seen her breathe fire. Anyway, something’s gotten into her lately. She’s usually a nice, calm girl.”

Ygnacia fluffed and then flattened her body, arranging herself into a neat circle. Her beady golden eyes nearly crossed as she stared down at her treasure, gloating.

Oh, she’d heard the gossip. These giants pretended benevolence, brought food, but privately plotted to plunder the precious pile. She, Ygnacia-the-Almost, would protect it with her life!

“They aren’t even all yours!” complained Shasta. “Those ones are obviously mine, and I’m sure I see some that belong to Lady Grey.” 

“Huh!” scoffed Ygnacia, turning her face to the wall. Shasta was such a whiner!

Mirella, always ready to provide a distraction, chose that moment to do a warm-up exercise. She hopped up on a box, smoothed her golden spangles,  lifted her beautiful head to just the right angle for projecting the sound. The notes, high, bright, and clear, filled the small building. 

“Ooooo, eeeee, aaaaa …” she sang.

The Littlest Giant pressed her hands to her ears and squinched her eyes shut.

“Oh, hush!” the Biggish Giant scolded Mirella. “Your voice is ear-splitting!” 

“Well!” Mirella huffed. “That is extremely rude! I had thought better of you. I’ve practiced and practiced to achieve those high notes, and let me tell you, it’s very difficult! Not to mention, the acoustics in here are terrible. I’m an up-and-coming star, you know!”

“Pff!” Ygnacia said to the wall. “Up-and-coming star? She’s from peasant stock. But she sure knows how to act high and mighty!”

Cap’n Easy, hearing the commotion, came tearing through the doorway.

“What’s happening? Somebody need rescuing?” he demanded, a dangerous glint in his eye. “I’m armed, and I fear no foe!”

“Calm down, Cap’n!” The Biggish Giant laughed, shaking her head. “Put away those weapons. We’re not here to kill anyone! We just need to collect the offerings from these lovely ladies.”

Offerings? Offerings?!… So that’s how they want to play it. It’s outright pillaging, is what it is. Robbing! Looting! Despoiling!

“Hmph!” Cap’n Easy stood tall and prepared to do battle. 

“Ehr-ehr-EHR-ehrrrrr! Ladies, I warned you, hide your valuables. But no, you had to display them. Foolish ones!” He shook his head in disgust. “You’re putting all of us at risk.”

“Oh, oh, oh!” fretted Shasta. “What shall we do?” 

Gulliver skittered through the doorway, trying to make sense of the commotion.

“What’s going on in here?”

“Shoo, shoo, old man!” Cap’n Easy rushed at the latecomer, undeterred by his imposing stature. He flapped his mantle dismissively at Gulliver.

“I got this.”

“But-but-but—” protested Gulliver.

“Oh, my. Listen to them…They’re getting all worked up! Gulliver, old man, I’m afraid you're a bit past it. Leave the job to the Cap’n! We’d better go, Dumplin’.” 

Old man, was he? Twice in a moment of time!

The Biggish Giant lowered her voice and murmured, “We can come back after dark, when they’ve settled down.”

“Gran’ma… do they lose their powers at night?” 

“Well, sort of. They can’t see very well in the dark.”

The would-be marauders went out.

“You see?” Cap’n Easy boasted, “I was able to defeat them by intimidation! Thanks to me, ladies, the treasure is safe.”

“But-but-but—” Gulliver started. Why, in his prime—before Easy had seen light of day—he’d overcome many an intruder. 

“Never mind him,” Lady Grey crooned. Sure, Cap’n Easy had a swashbuckling swagger, but she’d always had a soft spot for big old Gulliver. “Come sit by me. I saved space for you.”

Gulliver preened. Maybe his battling days were done, but he could still attract a lady! He snuggled up to Lady Grey with a satisfied sigh, set to enjoy the evening in her gentle company. 

This place has it all, he thought sleepily: just enough drama, sprinkled with comedy, and…Aaa-chooo… even a bit of fluff.

€(o)> 

“Well, Dumplin’, I have a surprise for you! You remember Yggi?”

“The Almost-Dragon? Uh-huh…” Dumplin’ put the back of her hand to her mouth, reliving the attack. “She was guarding her treasure!”

“That’s right. We let her keep some of that treasure. And guess what happened to it!”

“What, Gran’ma? What?”

“She has… Come on, let’s just go see.”

“Ehr-ehr-EHR-ehrrrrr! Attention, ladies—the Giants are approaching.”

“Shall I perform my new song?” suggested Mirella. “I can sidetrack them. Eeeee—”

“Hush, Mirella! Not now,” whispered Lady Grey.

“Mirella! What do you think you are—an opera singer?” The Biggish Giant laughed. “Sorry, but Ygnacia is the star of the show right now.”

The Littlest Giant sidled forward, eyeing Ygnacia uneasily.

“What’s that sound, Gran’ma?”

“Look back here, Dumplin’. You’ll see.”

Ygnacia-the-Almost sat serenely in a shaft of sunlight with her eyes closed. Around her, a bevy of beguiling bits of fluff flittered and flocked, clustering and climbing on spindly stick-legs. They chirruped and chittered, and suddenly stopped—one by one toppling over to sleep. 

“What do you think, Dumplin’?”

“Ohhh!” squealed the Littlest Giant. “She has baby dragons! They’re so cuuute!”

Ygnacia opened one eye and twinkled it proudly at the Littlest Giant. Maybe she didn’t breathe fire, and maybe she couldn’t fly very well. Probably, she wasn’t an actual dragon. But… almost. 

She opened her other eye and stared down at her sleeping treasure. If the Littlest Giant said they were baby dragons, then they were baby dragons.

“They’re mine!” she chortled softly. “All mine!”

€(o)>