Bolivar Read online

  He’s tasked with caring for an old dragon—too bad the dragon wants nothing to do with him.

  Wesley is the last in a long line of humans to care for the aging dragon Bolivar. He’s young, idealistic, and has waited his whole life to serve the dragon. But Bolivar is nothing like what he imagined. As he’s aged, he’s lost all of his dragon abilities, and his physical appearance is reverting, making him a teenager like Wesley as he grows nearer to his dragon death, when he will be reborn as a human. Wesley imagined the great deeds that he would do for his dragon master, but Bolivar has nothing for him to do. They soon grow bored of each other, and Bolivar sends Wesley off to college to get out of his hair.

  They still spend nearly every break together, and Wesley soon falls for Bolivar, though the dragon tells him he’s far too young and idealistic for him. As time goes on Wesley puts distance between them, but it doesn’t diminish how much he cares for Bolivar, and finally one day Bolivar accepts what Wesley has been saying all along—that he wants to have a life with him.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Bolivar

  Copyright © 2018 Caitlin Ricci

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-1991-2

  Cover art by Angela Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

  Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

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  www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

  Bolivar

  By

  Caitlin Ricci

  Bolivar

  Bolivar. I first heard the name when I was a small child. It was burned into my mind and body almost as if it was a brand that covered every part of me. I was a tenth-generation dragon’s assistant, which was a fairly boring title for a job that my family took very seriously. The assistant part, at least. The dragon part of it, well, I wasn’t even sure that they actually existed beyond the stories my parents had raised me on.

  In the last three generations, none of us had ever been called to Bolivar as I was now. He’d sent a letter to me, requesting my aid. I’d grown up on the stories and been trained, but I still had no idea what I, Wesley Adams, a twenty-year-old human, could actually do for him.

  Now, with my great-grandfather nearing death just shy of his ninety-eighth birthday, it seemed that it was my turn to be called to duty to replace him. My great-grandfather had already left Bolivar, off to enjoy what remained of his life in his retirement. I had no idea why he’d stayed with Bolivar so long, only that he’d been called when he was about my age and had done the dragon’s bidding the whole time. I’d never met my great-grandfather or even heard from him, so to me he was nothing more than a stranger whose place I was taking.

  To be called to Bolivar’s side was exciting. I was looking forward to serving him, but I was also nervous. What I was most afraid of though was failing. Failing my family, my obligation to them, and also failing Bolivar. Who failed a dragon? Who even got to serve them? No one I’d ever met, that was for sure.

  I was never the best in my class at anything and always the last one picked for whatever teams the gym teacher had forced on us. I was small and thin, barely over five feet, and a hundred and ten pounds. I’d been made fun of for how tiny I was most of my life. I looked like a classic stereotypical geek, but I sucked at debate and had no idea how to play chess. I also sucked at chemistry, so if Bolivar wanted me to balance some chemical equations for him we were both out of luck there.

  And yet my family, for some reason, thought I was ready to take up the position of honor to go serve this dragon. It was crazy, but I knew I’d do my absolute best to make my family proud of me.

  My father came into my room while I was finishing packing up the last of my suitcases. I could only take three suitcases, and by some miracle, nearly everything I owned fit. It wouldn’t be my last time in this house, if I wanted to come back. My great-grandfather apparently hadn’t chosen to come back to his home, but I wasn’t him. I was just going to work, not giving up my life, and I was glad I didn’t have to leave anything I absolutely loved behind. All of my comic book shirts were able to come with me. I had been worried about that.

  “Are you almost ready to go? We don’t want you to miss your plane. That wouldn’t make a very good impression on Bolivar now, would it?”

  I quickly shook my head. I had to be on time for my first meeting with him. “I just need to do final checks to make sure I have everything that I’ll need.”

  “And you remember everything we’ve taught you? Right?”

  I’d never seen my father looking quite so worried before. “I’ll be fine. I promise.” I may have sucked in school, but I’d memorized absolutely everything I could about the dragons, and especially about Bolivar. I knew that he’d been a fierce warrior and he’d once held a grand empire before he’d lost a battle with an even larger dragon, Imrel, sometime in the sixteenth century. The dates were a little fuzzy in the old journals I’d been told to study as a child, but their meaning had been absolutely clear. Bolivar was not a dragon to be taken lightly, and if I failed to impress him there would be dire consequences, beginning with how I’d bring dishonor on myself and my entire family line. According to the journals, Bolivar didn’t play with things like that, and I intended to do everything I could in order to win the dragon’s respect.

  “Why do the dragons need us?”

  I definitely did not have time for an impromptu quiz from my father right then. Not when I couldn’t remember if I’d already packed my toothbrush or not. “Dragons are territorial and often aggressive. We run errands for them so that they don’t accidentally cross into another dragon’s land without meaning to and set off another round of the dragon wars.” The wars had ended in the eighteenth century, but some dragons still clashed on occasion.

  “Yes. And what is Bolivar’s favorite food?”

  I knew this, just like I knew everything else about the dragon, instantly. “Chocolate truffles.” It was a strange thing for a dragon to enjoy, at least in my mind, when I thought dragons should enjoy whole cows or something, but I wasn’t about to start questioning him.

  “And what must you never, ever do?”

  It was another easy question. “Piss off the dragon.” Because Bolivar would more than likely kill me for that, which would bring dishonor on my family.

  My father came forward and gave me a tight hug. “I know you’ll do well. He’s a fair dragon, all of the journals say so. Be good for him and he may send you to college still. Be strong, be humble, don’t be afraid of him. Don’t be stubborn, don’t be reckless, always be on time. Don’t—”

  I shook my head. “I know. I’ve studied the same books you did when you were growing up, just like your father did. I’ll be okay. Trust me. I can handle this.” I was terrified, and I had no idea if I could actually do this or not, but right then my father needed to know how strong I was,
not how worried I was.

  My father gave me one last hug. “Good. The taxi should be here any minute. I’ll help you get your bags downstairs.”

  “Thank you.” I forced a smile.

  Seven hours later I had landed in Maine. The air was cold and clean, and the taxi Bolivar had hired to come pick me up drove right to a house on the edge of the coast. It was a small ranch house, whereas I had been expecting a large castle, or at least something bigger than the home I’d grown up in. But I checked the address and it was right. I grabbed my suitcases and dragged them to the front door.

  I only had to knock once before the door was opened for me. A guy stood there, pale with bright amber eyes and short brown hair. I was barely over five feet, but he was even shorter than me, and he looked only a year or two older than me too.

  “Uh. Hi. I’m looking for Bolivar. This is the correct address, right?”

  He nodded and stepped back, letting me inside. “I’m Bolivar,” he explained when I didn’t move.

  I didn’t believe him for a second. “Uh.” I continued to stand on the porch. The taxi was already gone, leaving me there with some guy at the house that was supposed to belong to Bolivar. “No, you’re not.”

  He looked completely unfazed by my disbelief. Bolivar was supposed to be this huge dragon, not some little guy that was barely older than me. “Okay. Suit yourself.” He rolled his eyes, and then he left me there as he went inside. He hadn’t closed the door, so I watched him go into the living room and sit on the couch.

  “So you’re Wesley?” he called to me as he started watching something.

  “Yeah. I am. When is Bolivar getting back? And who are you?”

  He looked at me for a second or two, then went back to watching his show. “I told you. I’m Bolivar. Are you coming in, or not?”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth? You don’t exactly look like a dragon.”

  He rolled his eyes. “And you’ve met a lot of dragons then, have you?” He sighed. “Look, I get it. Your great-grandfather thought I was a boy from a neighboring farm when he first met me. After he got over his shock, he was a fantastic assistant, right from the start. You, on the other hand, I’m not so sure about. But I can’t do business on my own, and if I tried to negotiate without an assistant, I’d be laughed at. So come inside, sit down, and tell me about yourself.”

  I pursed my lips. He could be completely full of it, but on the off chance this really was Bolivar I didn’t want to risk pissing him off. So I shuffled in, dragging my three big suitcases behind me. “Where can I, uh...” I looked around his house, really for the first time, and my gaze caught on a black and white photo of my great-grandfather when he’d been about my age, and next to him was the guy on the couch. Up to their knees in water on some beach somewhere, they had their arms around each other. It was definitely my great-grandfather and this guy who I was now sure was Bolivar, and who I’d probably already pissed off. I swallowed quickly, trying to think of how best to apologize for being stupid.

  “Second door on the left,” he called to me.

  I looked over at him and found that his attention wasn’t on me at all. He was ignoring me completely, which was possibly the best thing for us both. I’d clearly screwed up.

  “Bolivar?” I asked as I came up beside him.

  He turned the TV off and looked up at me. “Yeah, kiddo?”

  I flinched at the nickname. I hated nicknames in general, but also just being treated like a kid. “Sorry about that, how I thought you weren’t yourself.”

  He smirked and waved me away. “I’m sure it’s not the only obnoxious thing you’ll do this week, or maybe not even today. Put your things away then come back and you can tell me about yourself.”

  I was quick to leave him, and just as quick to put my clothes in the empty closet. The bedroom he’d given me was smaller than I was used to, but I had a bed, and a desk, and even my own little TV. It was everything I would need for the next few months of working for him before I went back home to Missouri for a Christmas break. I would also have a break for the summer too, just two weeks off each time, and I was already looking forward to them. I knew that serving Bolivar was a great honor and I’d been excited to come here, but I’d thought that I’d be serving a dragon in a castle. Not some guy that looked like he was my age and lived in a ranch house. He looked human, he acted human, and I was feeling really let down.

  I was almost done hanging up the last of my pants when Bolivar came to my open bedroom doorway. “Do you need anything else in your room?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m fine. Thanks.” I was much more careful about how I spoke to him now that I knew who he was.

  I thought he would have left me after that, but he didn’t. He came over and looked at my clothes, and then at my books that I’d left strewn across the bed. When he picked one up I nearly snatched it out of his hands. He hadn’t asked if he could see it at all. He’d just done it.

  “So... you like to read?” He put my book back, nearly exactly where it had been.

  He asked me that like he was asking if I liked to breathe air. I wondered if he had any interest in getting to know me at all, or if he was just trying to make small talk so that we were a little less like strangers.

  “I like to read,” I told him, if only to keep him from being upset with me.

  He pursed his lips, then looked around the room a bit. “I’ve got pizza in the freezer if you get hungry. I wasn’t sure what humans eat now. Humans your age, I mean. Your great-grandfather liked pasta. Frank could eat an entire box of it in one sitting. Do you like pasta?”

  It was good to know that even a dragon was as awkward at small talk as I was. I shrugged. “It’s okay. I do like pizza, though.”

  Bolivar seemed relieved at that. “Good. There’s plenty of it.”

  We were both quiet again. My clothes were hung up and I only had my books to put away, but that would mean getting really close to him. “Bolivar?”

  “Yes, Wesley?”

  I was glad he hadn’t called me kiddo again. “Uh... so... what do you actually want me to do here? Like I know I’m supposed to run errands for you and deliver messages to the other dragons, but I’m sure they have email, so what do I do? What did my great-grandfather do?”

  “Do...” Bolivar looked around my room again. “You could... No. That doesn’t happen for another week. We could... But that takes too long. Frank mostly watched TV and went for walks down by the water. He would bring me back rocks or small shells. One time he found a shark’s egg sac and told me humans called it a mermaid’s purse. When you’re not dealing with the other dragons, you could do that. Or you could find your own thing to collect and then share with me.”

  He sounded insane. “You want me to collect things, for you?”

  “Oh, yes. Come with me, I’ll show you.” He took my hand, pulling me along to the end of the hallway. The door was open, and he let me go first. Every wall, every inch of space all around me, was filled with glass cases. Each box had a name attached to it but no date, although I could tell that some of the pieces inside were very old. There were empty cases, too. And one held a shelf that had my name on it, right below a shelf filled with seashells and my great-grandfather’s name.

  “Anything at all?” I asked.

  “Yes. As long as you find it yourself. No buying it off Ebay. And whatever it is, it has to fit on the shelf. And it can’t be perishable. Jeremy tried giving me fruit one time when he first started. Fruit is not good treasure.”

  I didn’t remember a Jeremy in my journals. “When did you have a Jeremy?”

  Bolivar brought me to one of the first shelves. “Here, Jeremy was my fourth companion. He only lasted two years before he died. Poor boy. Someone shot him with an arrow.”

  I briefly glanced at the little animal skulls before I turned back to Bolivar. “So he lived when? In what century?”

  “Twelfth, I think. It’s been a long time. I rem
ember people more than I do dates now.”

  Bolivar was still holding my hand as he pulled me out of his collection room and into another bedroom, this one seemingly his. But before I could wonder what we were doing there he took me onto the deck, which was actually a sunroom, and there he had a makeshift office. He handed me a small cardboard box with a bright red bow on it. The kind that I would have bought from a grocery store, but his actually looked like he’d curled the ribbon by hand instead of going the easy route like I would have done.

  “Your first task as my new assistant will be to deliver this to Imrel. His birthday is coming up.”

  It took me a few moments to process what he was saying, and even when I did I still didn’t believe what he’d said to begin with. “You want me to take something to Imrel?”

  Bolivar looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh at me. “Yes. Is there a problem? If you know anything about us, then you know I’m not the only dragon in the world, and he’s only a few hours away at the Canadian border.”

  Of course, I knew that he wasn’t the only dragon. It was just... I knew their history. “But don’t you hate him or something?” The journals had been so specific about that fact.

  Bolivar just shrugged off my question. “Once, yes, I did. But that was centuries ago, and hate is such a strong word.”

  “Your feud lasted for something like eighty years, right?” I really wanted to go find the old journals and read up on their war again, because I’d thought it was a pretty significant thing, and Bolivar was here acting like it was nothing at all.

  “Well, yes, that was how long he was with that obnoxious man he cheated on me with. Are you going to deliver this box or not? Arguing with me isn’t part of being my assistant.”

  “Uh, sure.” I took the cardboard box from him and was surprised by just how light it was. I was pretty sure that there wasn’t anything actually in it at all and he was just sending me away.