by Lisa Gail Green
Sarah saw it first. So, she very deftly led the others away, being sure to make eye-contact with me so I’d understand. Inside, I whooped for joy, outside I nodded almost imperceptibly and made my way up the desert trail.
Hiking through the canyon was nothing new to us. Our father trained us from the moment we were born. It figured. The one time we came just for fun with our friends, was when we’d find what we’d been searching for, for more than a decade.
The offshoot was nearly invisible to the naked eye. But I made my way forward easily and it was unmistakable. A nest of what looked like three precious gems, sparkling like beacons in the sunlight. But these were no diamond, ruby and emerald. They were far more precious than that.
Glancing around to make sure the mother was absent, I leaned over and, using a stick, swept the precious cargo into my satchel. Sure, it looked like a normal pack, but inside it was insulated enough to maintain their two hundred degree temperature for several hours. Enough to get them back to Dad and the rest of the hunters.
“Hey guys, I’m so done here. It’s way too hot for this. Come on, Sarah,” I said.
Ten minutes later we were hiking up the path to our jeep, squealing in our headiness of accomplishing the impossible. I mean, how often do you find an unguarded Dragon’s egg in the United States? Let alone three.