The Dragonfruit Express: A Frontier Flora Story
Get on the train!
Welcome to the Frontier! This story is the debut of the weird west creature taming saga I call Frontier Flora, a dive into an alternate New World where nations and colonies are coming into their own, alongside fantastic creatures called Florabeasts. Plants with the forms of animals, Florabeasts have shaped history for the better, but there are always those who seek their own ends.
I had come up with the idea of Frontier Flora a while ago, and after coming up with a few beasts I realized this was something great and had to keep going. This tale is only the beginning, too, with a lot more planned for yet another world and series for me to keep track of. But it’s for the best, believe me.
The Dragonfruit Express is my entry into the newest LegendFiction short story contest, the only requirement was that there had to be dragons in it. I thought sure, I can do that, and as usual I wanted to do something different than the typical scaly monster of most dragon stories. So here we are with something completely different!
What else is different is that while I’ve included the usual music tracks that inspired the story and serve to score it, I’ve also gone ahead and done a read-along recording of the text, which you can listen to as well. Because of the music tracks being much louder than the recording, though, I wouldn’t recommend playing them both at the same time.
Update: The anthology that this story is contained in is finally available for purchase. You can get a copy in print or digital now!
I highly recommend you read this on the Substack website or app, as this serial is a multimedia experience. You’ll find many audio embeds below that score the story, and they won’t function as intended in your email client. Only one track can be playing at a time, so when you reach the next one just start it and they won’t overlap. If you like the music you hear, please consider supporting the artists as well.
The locomotive looked too new, like it had just rolled off the factory yard back east, and hadn't yet been exposed to the grit and dust of the west. No worries, soon it would get roughed up by the Territory just like the people who lived there, the ones who rode on the string of cars trailing behind. Grimy prospectors, hoping to find a quiet spot away from tribal patrols and animal hunting grounds, hunting for minerals or something even more valuable. Clean-shaven surveyors with their bags of delicate equipment, still searching for an easier way across the Rockies. Families who left the Lowlands with only the clothes on their backs and great-grandma's sourdough starter, clutching their settlement tickets like they were printed on gold.
Some of the younglings were entertained by a hurdy-gurdy, a bright purple Plumonkey dancing around the player’s feet and hopping up on the boys' shoulders. The girls weren't having it, not wanting to risk the tiny Florabeast getting under their bonnets for anything. A winsome-looking fellow sat by the window, a Snap-dragon curled up on his lap, the bright red ruff around its neck fluttering as it snored. A widow still wearing black knit purposefully, the Spinnich on her shoulder supplying endless streams of green silk.
It was a quiet evening, but like they often are, it was too quiet. A huge shadow swept across the car, blocking out the harsh glare of the sun near the horizon. The same sun that had lulled everyone into a kind of dreamy sleep. The passengers didn’t even notice that the shadow wasn’t a cloud, not even a Condorange wheeling in the distance. Neither did they notice that the entire train was slightly heavier on account of an extra passenger.
The caboose was empty, just benches and racks of tools, so she slipped through quickly. The luggage car was next, people's prized possessions just there for the taking. But what would she do with clothes or old trinkets? She was after something better.
Movement, noises. She ducked behind a steamer trunk.
“Help me, will you?” a lady attendant called, pointing up toward the ceiling. “A Beetbat got in here, the poor thing.”
A cranky-sounding fellow answered. “A what?”
“A Beetbat. You know, little flying Florabeast, come in lots of different colors.”
“Oh, you mean a Batbeet. Sure, I’m comin’.”
“Don’t matter what you call it, you’re taller, you can reach.”
Distracted, that was good. Too distracted to see a slip of a girl crawl along behind trunks and suitcases, the leather duster she wore nearly swallowing her up. But that was fine, made her look like one of those animals who puffed up to look scarier. She twisted around a post, one of her bright red braids falling over a shoulder. No hat on her head, too easy to lose it while flying. Confident she hadn’t been seen, she hopped across to the next car, peering in the glass window to see what was next. No need to skulk in there.
The girl burst into the coach, lined with benches and people and money. “Evening, all!” she fairly shouted. Everyone turned to stare at the strange girl that hadn’t been waiting on the platform when they boarded. Or had she? “Let’s go ahead and do this right. I’m the Sunset Sniper, and I’m here for your valuables!” A gunny sack appeared in her hand. “Right in the bag here, please.”
A second passed, confusion turned to fear for some, anger for others. A swarthy prospector stood up next to her. “Now missy,” he growled through his beard, looming tall. “What’s to stop me from puttin’ you in that sack instead?”
Sunset kept the smirk on her face, meeting his eyes. A click of her tongue, then a bright green Ivyper slithered out of her sleeve, clusters of tiny white flowers around its sleek head. “Now, don’t think down at me. What’s that rhyme again? Leaves of yellow, makes a dead fellow? Best to avoid gettin’ bit altogether, huh?”
Maybe the prospector remembered the rest of the rhyme, since the fight went right out of him and he put a few pebbles of gold in the sack before sitting down obediently. The Ivyper wrapped around her arm, head resting on her wrist just in case. The bond between them would’ve been touching if it weren’t so dangerous.
The car right behind the locomotive was the most spacious, nice tables and chairs, all bolted to the floor, still fancy. The sophistication was tempered just a little by the racket, the noise of the engine fuming away. Noise didn’t seem to bother the two gents huddled around the chess table, a board carved right into the tabletop and each piece on pegs in case the journey got rough. Not too likely out in the middle of the flats, but you never could tell.
“Your move, old boy,” the chap playing white said, dressed like his chosen pieces in a linen shirt and tweed trousers. His clothes were a contrast to his dark skin, but out there staying cool was more important than fashion.
The man across from him didn’t look that old, though he hadn’t had a shave in days. Despite the fine beard, he looked dashing in a brown leather vest nearly the same color as his skin, two braids keeping all the rest of his black hair at bay. He pondered which of his carved wooden radish-pawns was in the best spot to take out the carrot-knight that threatened his apple-bishop. Kept on thinking even when a hushed, urgent voice came from behind. Two conductors trying to whisper about a threat to the passengers, better get the firebox barred just in case something worse happened. Once they pulled into Drygrass, the Guardiners stationed there could take care of it.
Except they needed to work on their whispering. The chap leaned back in his chair. “Do we need to postpone the game?”
Leathervest didn’t take his eyes off the board. “I reckon we do...” He sat back too, the brass star on his lapel shining like justice. A low, rustling growl came from under the table.
Dollar bills, gold coins, silver pieces. A few rings and a fancy string of pearls. All of it went into the sack, which was getting heavy. No matter, she’d hauled much heavier stuff before. Sunset turned to the door, took a step back, someone else was in her way. Young fella, barely enough fuzz on his chin to count as a beard. But his eyes were firm. He knew what he was doing.
The Snap-dragon on his shoulder spread its little wings wide, four stubby legs tipped with blunt claws. Its long tail wrapped around its planter’s other shoulder, red hood and chin petals set firm. It knew what it was doing, too.
“Stop right there,” Peachfuzz said. “I can’t let you get away with this.”
“Oh yeah?” Sunset raised her red eyebrow. “You a Guardiner?”
“Nope,” he patted his belt as if that was enough to prove his claim. “Just someone who knows right from wrong.”
“Don’t you talk to me about right and—”
“Now!” The Snap-dragon jumped off, jaws aimed to yank the bag out of her hand. Too bad the Ivyper was faster, an arrow off her sleeve, knocking the larger Florabeast to the ground and showing its fang-like thorns. The Snap-dragon pinned its foe, only to have it twist around and bite down on a leg. The pain made the dragon slip, letting the Ivyper up and wrap itself around the bigger beast. Thorns sank in between yellow scales. Too bad. Struck by the scene, Peachfuzz nearly forgot to yell out again.
The prospector probably wanted his gold back, he rushed up behind Sunset only to freeze at the dry click that everyone on the Frontier knew better than their own mother’s voice. Sunset had sleighted out a shiny revolver. She held the bag of loot tight, but when Peachfuzz moved again, she had two guns, both sides covered now. The Snap-dragon had gone still, the Ivyper’s poison clogging up its sap in a bad way.
“I told you not to think down at me,” she said. She crept to the door slowly, no one else wanting to make a move. As soon as the Ivyper slid off its foe and slithered toward its planter, Peachfuzz rushed to his Florabeast, the struggle forgotten. For now.
The gap between the cars was covered, which only made it harder for her to squeeze out between the flaps of canvas after finding the next door was barred. “No matter,” she said to the bright green critter that wound around her arm again. “Maybe they’re chumps and forgot to close the other side.” She scrambled up the ladder to the top of the car, the dry, hot air stinging her eyes. But nothing would stop her now.
“Hold it there, missy.” An unshaven voice. She had to holster her guns to climb, the bag tucked away safely too. They’d have to wrestle her down to get it all back. Unless she just tossed it off the edge now...
Deputy Leathervest walked along the top of the train, hands in his pockets like he was strolling through an orchard. Behind him was a dark green shape, hard to tell what kind of Florabeast it was at this distance. Sunset crawled forward, the wind getting to be a bit much. She couldn’t back down, though, not after all that.
“What’s your name, girl?”
“Huh! You think I’d tell the likes of you?”
“Just tryin’ to be polite. Especially since I already know it.”
“Of course you do. I’m the Sunset Sniper, my reputation must’ve spread by now.” She tried to stand taller, crossing her arms.
“Sure it did. Which is why there’ll be a Deputy or a Guardiner on every train between Drygrass and Plainstown from now on.”
Her face turned sour. “Mother of vinegar...”
“Now, don’t be talking like that. Not sure what you’d expected, though. We can’t have everyone with a tough Florabeast thinkin’ they can just up and take everything these people’ve worked so hard for.”
“Haw! You think I’m doin’ this for fun? Like I got bored and decided to rob a train?” Sunset stared him down, close enough now for him to see the determination in her green eyes. “I’m doin’ this so we can live! Our village can’t grow any crops, half of what we plant turns to dust before it gets harvested. I’ve got brothers and sisters to feed!”
“Well I’ll be...” Deputy stared off at the horizon, the sun getting lower with every thunk of the tracks. “The blight is already spread to the Long Lakes...”
Sunset’s eyes went wide. “How’d you know I’m from Lake Territory?”
“I told you, I know your name. Nicole Sullivan, originally from a little town on the southern tip of the Shining Lake.”
Her eyes burned like her hair. “You—”
“Don’t fault me, intelligence is a big part of my job.”
Clenched teeth, closed fists. “And what’s the rest?”
“That’d be the fun part. Douglas, fetch!”
The Lupine that’d been crouched behind him surged forward, bounding toward her. Sunset took a step back, she couldn’t help herself. She prided herself on being tough, but the sight of the huge green Florabeast charging, needles bristling, woke up a fear deep inside. Even if she could get a few salt bullets into him, he could still knock her off the train just like that.
“Just drop the bag at his feet.” Douglas stopped just a pace from her, crouched. “I’ll put in a word with the Judge in Drygrass to help you get back to your family sooner.”
She held up her arm to protect her face from a bad gust of wind. “I ain’t gonna give up that easy.”
The Deputy laughed. “Your Ivyper’s thorns can’t get through my Lupine’s bark.” The Ivyper peeked out of her sleeve, maybe it wanted to try, anyway. “Seems like I got you cornered.”
“Hah! For all that jawing about how you’re so smart, you missed out on something big. Real big!” Sunset whistled through her teeth, a high shrill call. Douglas stopped and tilted his thick head.
Then it came. A dark shadow blotted out the sun, circled around so fast you could barely see it, then crashed down to join the fun. Red, leathery skin, dark green trunk and limbs. Twisting green horns, sharp at the tips. Wings wider than the train by nearly twice. The Pityvern roared, sickly sweet yet fearsome, black seeds set in the white flesh of its maw. Could've carried the Lupine off in one claw and the Deputy in the other. But he just stood between them, a fierce look in its beady eyes, daring them. Come closer, see what happens.
Douglas the Lupine wasn't afraid to try. He charged ahead, nipping at the Pityvern's legs before he could bring down his long neck to nip him back. Douglas was small enough to dart between his legs, but since Lupines were bigger than a working dog, that meant the Pityvern was big for his species. A leathery tail slammed down, only to get stuck full of needles. Douglas hung on to one wing, claws scrabbling against a thick leg, couldn't have done much else.
“Come on!” Sunset cheered. “Show ‘em what for, Pinky!”
Deputy frowned. “Pinky?”
“Hey, I planted him when I was real little. Besides, he likes it.”
Pinky looked more red than anything, getting steamed at having a wing bit into like that. He kicked the Lupine off then reared back, belching out clouds of cloying fumes. The fast-moving air carried most of it away, but the Deputy still covered his mouth in a paisley bandana anyhow. Sunset already had a black kerchief over her mouth, could only see her gleeful eyes. Douglas snorted out smoke, slowed down some but not so much he couldn’t retaliate in kind. He coughed up a big pitch ball, spat toward Pinky’s head but only hit his neck. Knocked him off balance, still worth the effort.
A few snaps and swipes later, though, Douglas lost his footing and slipped. Pinky whipped a wing around and stomped, pinning the Lupine to the top of the coach. Just before he could finish the job, though, Sunset whistled again. The Pityvern stopped, let go, then shuffled back to his planter.
“What should I make of this?” the Deputy called. “Running away from a clear victory?”
“Wouldn’t be much of a victory if I stuck around,” Sunset taunted back, climbing up onto the back of her Florabeast with her bag of ill-gotten goods. “Although you might want to lie low for a while.” She pointed to the front of the train before winking, then alighted on Pinky the massive fruit dragon.
Deputy looked where he’d been told. “Mother of—Douglas, get down!”
Poor Douglas was already laying on his side when the darkness of the tunnel engulfed them. Deputy kept himself pressed as flat as he could, grateful he hadn’t worn spurs but still hoping he would have heels on his boots when this was over. He kept on praying, to whoever was listening.
The train came out into the light. The Deputy and his Florabeast stood up. Douglas had lost a few needles on his head and sides, but they’d grow back. They always did. The tunnel meant they had passed Blank’s Hill, or gone through it, and were nearly to Drygrass.
“You’re still here, jolly good.”
A porkpie hat appeared over the edge. Deputy’s chess partner peered up, clinging on the ladder. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to find a wagon to retrieve you both crumpled by the side of the tracks.”
“Nope, not today.” Deputy sat down right on the metal roof. The train was slowing now, made it a little easier to talk.
“I gather she got away?”
Deputy squinted at him. “That all it takes to be a detective nowadays?”
The chap barely raised an eyebrow over his round glasses. He was a Brit, he could take it. “Hm. Well, when you’re done loafing about up here, I just received an urgent message from the Director.”
“Oh yeah? Does it say that blight was reported near the Lake Territory?”
“How on earth did you know that?”
“Just did some information gathering.” Deputy let out a long sigh. He could see the shingle of the Drygrass saloon from here, and did he ever need some refreshment. “How’d they end up getting you a note anyhow? Messenger Swalsify can’t catch a moving train.”
“True, but Hollyhawk can.” It must’ve been listening, since a big one flew over their heads just then, all sharp edges and red berries.
Deputy was quiet for a bit, so the Detective spoke up. “Well, I’ll be getting off the train in the proper fashion.” He started down. “You can join me if you like.”
“Naw, I think I’ll just hop off from up here!” Deputy called to his human partner. Douglas came up to his planter, turning to show the smoother part of his head that was good for petting. The rest, not so much. “Wonder what this is going to mean for all of us. Humans, Florabeasts, even the Gobbs. The blight’s got to be stopped, but how?”
Douglas stared up at the distant shadow of the Sunset Sniper and her loyal Pinky, his amber-colored eyes bright in the evening lights. Of course he couldn’t talk, but if he could, Deputy knew he would say something like “however that happens, we’ll do it together.”
They always did.
Thanks for reading! To find out more about the world of Florabeasts, check out the main info repository on World Anvil, where you’ll find everything you wanted to know about the Florabeasts featured in this story plus more.
If you liked this story, you can own it while contributing to positive, family-friendly literature in the future. Check out the new way to support the author with a Community Supported Literature membership.