“ ‘Much of the essence of a living thing is distilled in its teeth,’ ” I recalled.
Jackaby nodded. “Dragons—even dead ones, are powerful beasts. Dragon bones are potent, and a dragon’s tooth doubly so—why do you think the remains are so rare? I can’t imagine an alchemist or apothecary in all of antiquity who could resist adding some to his stores. Chameleomorphs alone are unpredictable—but you were mixing magics. You compounded the effects.”
“He grew real fast.” Hudson nodded. “Started sprouting little wings by the second day.”
“And if you had just stopped then,” said Jackaby, “he would not be growing larger still.”
“He got all tetchy if I didn’t add the powder,” Hank said. “I was needin’ bigger and bigger animals ta feed him. Like you said, I had to keep changin’ it. He was my responsibility, an’ I couldn’t just let him go hungry, so I took him out a couple times to catch somethin’ a little bigger. Heck of a thing to take a dragon for a walk. I didn’t mean to let him eat Brisbee’s kid, but it was just tied up in the woods, and once the dragon got close, he went nuts.”
“The goat was tied up in the forest?” I said. Hudson nodded.
“Not far from Brisbee’s,” mused Jackaby. “I imagine the farmer had been hoping to add some authenticity to his claims about the footprints by kidnapping one of his young goats. I doubt very much he had the stomach to kill the poor little thing, so he probably tried to just keep it safely out of the way instead. Bad luck for the kid.”
Hudson hung his head. “I could tell it was gettin’ outta hand, so I stopped givin’ him the powder at all, no matter how grumpy he got. He was a good fifteen feet already, and I knew I was gettin’ in over my head. I didn’t give him any yesterday, but by this morning he just went berserk. Broke through his bars and made off into the valley.”
“The Pendletons?” I asked.
Hudson nodded. “Got their blood on my hands. I was tracking him when I heard the gunshots. By the time I had gotten there, he had already stuffed himself on the sheep. I managed to drag him back to the cabin, but he snapped his chains and took off before I could get him penned.”
“And you didn’t stay with him?” Jackaby asked.
“Oh, I did my very best.” The trapper groaned and straightened a bit, lifting his arm gingerly out of the folds of his leathers. “Stayed a little too much with him, so now there’s a little bit of me left inside of him.” I gasped. The end of his arm was wrapped tightly in bandages that formed a thick bundle, but it was clear that the trapper’s left hand was gone completely. Dark red-brown blood had soaked his clothes from the hide of his jacket down to the dark lining of his boots.
“You need to get to a doctor!” I said.
Jackaby grimaced at the injury and surveyed the trapper properly for the first time since we had arrived. “You are in a remarkable amount of pain, aren’t you?” he said, squinting at the trapper. “It’s just rolling off you. In fact—I do believe you’re dying. Hudson, are you dying?”
The trapper gave a noncommittal shrug.
“Miss Rook is right. At the very least we need to get you indoors.”
Hudson gripped the rifle tightly with his remaining hand. “Not until I seen this through. I ain’t so proud I won’t welcome yer help, but I made this monster. One or the other of us is gonna see his end tonight. I set a few traps around the place, but I don’t think they’ll do more’n slow him down. Keep a weathered eye open. He’s fifteen feet tall if he’s an inch.”
“That was before he got back to the site for more bones,” said Jackaby heavily. “He was at least twenty by the time he went after the cows from Mr. Brisbee’s barn. Let’s just hope he needs another helping of dragon stock before he hits full size.” Jackaby gestured at the fossils that lay before us. The bones had been roughly scattered, but they still described a creature fifty feet tall from head to tail, with a wingspan twice as wide.