An Accident of Dragons by Cheri Radke will be available Summer 2026 from Erewhon Books. Learn more about the book below, plus preview an excerpt!
No one would have chosen a Lord Summer so wholly ill-suited for the role—no one except the Dragon of Summer herself, it would seem. An indolent and foppish peacock getting a bit old for his typical charms to play well, Teddy has no doubt that the nobles of Summer find him ridiculous. They all know that the only reason the dragon chose him was on account of his connection to the previous Lord Summer as his, uh, special companion.
Still, as long as Teddy can keep the dragon happy, and her blessings continue to bring peace and prosperity to the Isle of Summer, surely he’s doing well enough. Right?
When Summer lays a rare and highly valuable egg, Teddy’s care-free life threatens to fall apart as the egg’s unexpected appearance dredges up long-repressed memories, and outside forces turn avaricious eyes on the insular island. A mysterious, dragon-worshiping cult covets the egg, and when Teddy bungles a self-interested attempt to give it to them, they sail away with his young daughter instead.
If he hopes to save her, Teddy can no longer afford to ignore how his personal shortcomings are putting his country and the people he loves at risk. To match wits with an ambitious sorceress who presents an unflattering mirror of his own flaws, he must face the reality of just how, precisely, he became Lord Summer.
Author Cheri Radke says:
“For a fantasy book that aims to be cozy in tone, pulpy in plot, but literary in themes and character development, I couldn’t imagine a better home than Erewhon. I’m delighted to have this opportunity to work with Diana Pho to dive deep into the themes of imposter syndrome, middle age, the traps of gender expectations, the questionable costs of living in a seeming utopia… and of course dragons! Above all, I hope people will have fun reading An Accident of Dragons—maybe almost as much fun as I had writing from the point of view of my lovably ridiculous and whimsical narrator.”
Editor Diana Pho added:
“I could NOT stop smiling while reading this book! Teddy is a bit of a mess and not the noblest of men, but his wit and charisma won over my heart. I loved every single moment of his adventure living up to the title of Lord Summer. Readers looking for a fresh take on dragons and on queer cozy fantasy, for fans of John Wiswell, Emily Tesh, and Marie Brennan, will adore An Accident of Dragons!”
A bad fit
The first sign of something afoot was in the fit of my favorite evening jacket. It was not too tight across the belly, mercifully, but rather too tight across the shoulders and even in the arms. Many men would perhaps take a sanguine view of this development, but I confess I found it disconcerting. When a man is on the wrong side of forty, I suppose he has simply gotten used to the shape of his own body, allowing of course for seasonal fluctuations and changes of habit. Of late I had done nothing more strenuous than twirling ladies about the dance floor, so I harbored no delusions that this sudden muscular growth was of my own doing.
My dragon was having her own way with me, it was clear. I had known such things might occur when I had entered my contract, but it had been seven years with no obvious changes to my person. I had rather thought I was too old to be affected so, that such gifts were the province of men and women who were born dragon-bonded. Where would it end? Could my clothes be let out, or would I require an entirely new wardrobe to be made for me? On second thought, that did not sound so bad.
Still, I could not help but wonder about the why of the thing. Did the dragoness Summer feel I would need strength in the days to come? I did not hold with the idea that dragons are prescient in any way, but there was no question that Summer often knew a good deal more about the world and its happenings than I could ever fully account for. If she wanted me girded for a fight, well, I didn’t much savor the thought. I’d never been a fighter. I attempted to reach out to the dragon and ascertain what she meant by all this, but she was napping and utterly disinclined to acknowledge me. So that was that.
Once I accepted that the jacket would fit as well as it would fit for the present, it was still early for my dinner engagement, but I thought I might check in on my wife. A ball for the equinox was coming up, and as we would be expected to appear prominently, I had several logistical considerations to discuss with her. Her apartment was one level above my own in the palace, so I trotted up the stone steps and let myself in.
My stepson Brook was there, a lad of sixteen—no, seventeen! I’m sure he was seventeen—studying some text or other in a focused manner. I could swear he got bigger every time I looked at him, and he now struck me as comically oversized for the delicate settee he lounged across. My own darling little Zinnia, only five years old, played on the floor with a gray tabby cat. The particular animal was not familiar to me, but I was unsurprised by its presence. Cats were always following me and Zinny around. It all looked quite homey.
Canna—that’s my lady—sat at her desk going through our official correspondence, but she set it aside at my entry and turned her attention to my thoughts on the ball. She was as capable as ever in absorbing the necessary details, despite my own rather chaotic style of imparting information. She even reminded me that we’d already gone over most of this, perhaps with an air of puzzlement over why exactly I had bothered to come. I think she suspected that I sometimes showed up out of boredom and loneliness more than having true business to discuss, though that was not fair at all. I knew Canna placed less importance on these shows of pageantry than I did, but I felt it was incumbent upon me to put on a good show for the people of Summer. It was truly the least I could do.
Canna’s only concern about the festivities regarded the gown I had chosen for her. “I know I told you to pick whatever you like,” she said to me. “But I went for my fitting yesterday, and well, don’t you think it’s a bit much?”
“I’ve no idea what you mean,” I said, all honesty.
“It’s very close fitting and low cut, isn’t it? Won’t I look a bit ridiculous, dressing like a young thing?”
“Nonsense!” I told her. “You’ve a figure as fine as anyone. I don’t see why you shouldn’t show it off. And it’s in fashion.”
“If you really don’t think it will look odd…”
“If you won’t be comfortable in it, of course we can choose something else,” I told her. “But ask yourself—why should I wish to make my wife look ridiculous? I assure you, it’s perfect, and you will look a marvel dancing in it.”
I took her hand and spun her about the sitting room, and she laughed in almost girlish delight. I always loved to make Canna laugh, for a rare pleasure is all the more to be savored.
“Besides, no one will be looking at you anyway. I’ll be right beside you, and I promise my outfit will be twice as outrageous, and I’ll be twice as pretty.” I winked at her.
Canna laughed even more. I was feeling rather good about the whole thing—until I caught a glimpse of my stepson Brook frowning at me. Well, let him. Why should I feel guilty about flirting with my own wife? In fact, I had a sudden inclination to spend more time with her.
“You know, I feel it’s been an age since I left the palace,” I said to her. “I thought I might go out sailing tomorrow.”
“That sounds nice,” she replied without much interest.
“Perhaps you’d like to join me?” I persevered.
“Oh.” She looked a bit quizzical. “Wouldn’t you rather take a… friend out with you?”
I knew what she meant, but I rather resented that she’d reference the idea of me having lovers in front of her son. The boy hated me enough as it was, and he surely knew what she was getting at as well as I did. It was all a little unfair anyway. For all my reputation as a libertine, I hadn’t been with a man in months.
“I don’t have any friends,” I ended up saying. And that was perfectly true on both the literal level and what I’d meant to convey, though it came out quite a bit more pathetic than I had intended. Still, I am nothing if not swift to recover from social missteps. “But it’s no matter. I’ll take Zinnia. You’d like to go sailing with me tomorrow, wouldn’t you, Zinny?”
Zinny looked up at me from the floor and nodded slowly, like a queen passing solemn judgment. You never knew what you were going to get with Zinny—impish terror or tranquil sage. It varied by the moment. I’d been told this was the way of things with dragon-bonded children. Her little upturned face was in some ways like a perfect miniature of mine, but also entirely her own. She never ceased to amaze me.
“Good then. Perhaps I could come back after dinner to collect her?” I asked Canna. “She can stay at mine tonight so that we can head out in the morning. And I’ll make sure to wash her hair before I bring her back.”
“Noooo,” Zinny objected. She meant about the hair, of course. My daughter would as soon let her hair turn to brambles and invite birds to nest in it, but I saw to it that the wild crown at least got washed and detangled, even if she wouldn’t let me do anything else to it. No one in Summer knew how to handle a tight curl such as ours, so I trusted no one but myself to manage her hair for her. I ignored her objection.
Canna agreed to my plan with no trouble, so with a quick kiss for Zinny and an even briefer peck for Canna, I was off.
My dinner engagement was in the Abalone Room, another three levels up, and my legs started to ache by the second stair. That was no doubt another sign of a change, for I was well accustomed to all this trotting up and down the levels of the palace, the vast underground warren built into the cliff face. Twelve levels stood between my rooms and my dragon’s sea caves, and I managed that jaunt almost daily. At the time, I wondered if I were simply dreading the dinner so much that my body rebelled.
Each quarter, the various high-ranking officers of the Sea Guard and the Home Guard gathered to discuss their state of affairs, and they all absolutely loathed having me there, quite as much as I loathed being there. I couldn’t say if the officers had always resented including Lord Summer in their discussions, or if it was just me (or perhaps a healthy dose of both). But what could they do? Claim that the monumentally massive dragon snoozing under the palace was somehow not a relevant factor in the protection and defense of the island?
As for that, well, I had my own doubts whether the dragoness Summer was as reliable a guardian of the land of Summer as most of its denizens liked to imagine. She obviously could defend the island from almost any threat, don’t mistake me. I’d no doubt she could tear a fleet of ships to pieces as casually as I might swat aside a flock of angry coots. But would she bother? Well, probably. Yes, most likely. It was not much worth worrying about, was it? And certainly not worth talking about, not by me of all people. My role was to make people feel like the dragon was friendly and under control.
I was the last to arrive and cursed myself for forgetting that these military types are all frightfully punctual. I wasn’t truly late, not by any civilized standard, but I imagined that they did not take such a charitable view of the matter.
Admiral Rostrum scrutinized me with particular scorn, I rather thought. A square-jawed, gray-haired, solidly-built man, the admiral no doubt had little tolerance for my sort and scarcely made a secret of it. Very little provocation was required to prompt him to expound upon the vital importance of traditional family values to ensure the continued stability and prosperity of Summer, as if all that weren’t due to the dragon anyway. If the admiral weren’t so damned competent and well-liked, I might have been tempted to throw my weight around for once and force his early retirement. But the admiral knew his business, and truly it was none of mine, so I tolerated him on the occasions we had cause to interact.
As I took my seat at the head of the table, I made my apologies for keeping them waiting.
“No doubt you had other important matters to attend to, Lord Summer,” Admiral Rostrum observed as he let his gaze wander over my clothes and my perfectly coiled curls. I pretended not to catch his implication and smiled as charmingly as I could manage. Imagine being accused of being too fussy about sartorial matters while actually wearing an ill-fitted jacket.
A great deal of their business remained a mystery to me, so I knew the greater part of wisdom would be to stay silent as much as possible and absorb what I could. It was not always easy for me to abstain from conversation, but it was made simpler that day by my seemingly insatiable appetite. I could scarcely talk with my mouth full, so I ate and listened and ate and listened.
Our military was a bit of a pathetic showing, if I’m to be honest. Half a dozen ships rounded out a fleet whose main function was to chase away pirates and small-time raiders. A sparse land-based militia served even less obvious purpose, but was nevertheless well supplied with all the shiny weapons and smart-looking uniforms they could desire. Considering how unlikely it was that any nation would ever launch a full-scale assault against us and risk engagement with the dragon, this little show of military theater was deemed more than sufficient by most in Summer. But needless to say, these officers took it all very seriously.
On this occasion, they had some vague concerns about cults rising and gaining power in the otherlands, but I’d heard all that before. I’d spent some time in the otherlands myself before becoming Lord Summer, and I well knew the way those types of manias came and went like changing seasons there. The otherlands weren’t like Summer—which was steady and predictable and always comfortable—but the general malaise of such places was nothing new and nothing to fuss about.
At some point I became aware that a veritable mountain of empty oyster shells and various crustacean husks had grown in front of me, and it was attracting some curious stares from around the table. Somehow I had consumed enough for five or six men, and the worst of it was that I was still hungry. I normally have a light appetite, so I had never known this particular mortification before. Fortunately I was intimately acquainted with so many other forms of embarrassment that I could rise to the occasion with equanimity. I offered only a chagrined shrug to the glances until the evidence could be mercifully cleared away.
The business of the evening wound down, and the officers turned to more casual conversation. Still it was mainly centered on ships and companies and things that I had little involvement with, so my attention wandered as I sipped my brandy.
“I heard that your son is going to be joining the roster of the Godwit before long. You must be quite proud.” Captain Grace was speaking to me, without doubt, and yet I had a hell of a time making sense of it. First I had to suss out that she must mean Brook, since there was no one else who might reasonably be called my son. Then there was the idea that he was joining the Sea Guard, which was very much news to me.
To cover my obvious surprise, I niggled over a detail. “The Godwit? Not the Avocet?”
“As far as I am aware, he never approached my mate regarding serving on the Avocet,” Captain Grace replied cordially, and of course she would know, as it was her ship.
“Ah, well, I must have simply assumed then, seeing as it was his late father’s ship and all,” I replied. “But then I believe in letting young people manage their own affairs as much as possible.”
“I quite agree.” Captain Grace smiled at me.
“He’ll do well on the Godwit,” Admiral Rostrum joined the conversation in a genial tone. The Godwit was his ship, the flagship of the little fleet. “A fine strapping lad like that ought to flourish once he can live amongst men and get out from under the skirts of coddling women and… others.”
That could scarcely be allowed to stand, but must be handled with tact. It would be best to swallow him whole and spit out the bones at leisure. No, no, that wouldn’t do at all! But I was already talking. “Oh, yes, I’ve no doubt that the best way to get a boy to ‘man up’ is to surround him with sweaty, half-naked men all day and all the night too.”
Silence did not so much settle over the gathering as strangle it in its tracks. Captain Grace covered her mouth with her napkin, which might have been covering a chortle. The rest of the table was less ambiguous in their disapprobation. I could recognize when it was time to clear the stage, so I made my excuses and pushed off. I did give the admiral a wink on my way out, just to see his flabbergasted face.
After that minor rout, I needed something to ease my heart before I faced my daughter. It was late for a visit to the tailor, but I thought old Reed might still be at work in his little shop, and it was on the same level of the palace. Besides, it was important to make sure my outfit for the equinox ball would still fit properly in light of recent changes to my person. The shop was closed up, but Tailor Reed opened at my rap and let me in with a cheerful air.
First things first, I explained Lady Canna’s hesitations about her dress, and we discussed if it were possible to make it a bit more conservative without spoiling the overall effect. Reed was brilliant about such things and offered several quite sensible suggestions. I told him to do whatever Lady Canna liked best.
I could not keep him from the scent of the true difficulty for long though; Reed perceived at a glance the trouble with my jacket. He took my new measurements with a mournful air. So distraught was he that I began to suspect all his apparent affection for me had more to do with the way my slender frame held clothing than any other virtue of mine. “For once, I had a Summer who was easy to fit,” he moaned. “Still, I suppose this isn’t so bad yet. You’re not going to keep going with it, are you?”
“I’ve no idea,” I told him. “I don’t control it.”
“Surely you must have some influence with her?” he pleaded.
Now that was touchy territory for a tailor. The whole mystique of being Lord Summer required some, shall we say, finesse on the topic of just how much influence I held over the dragoness.
“Well, you know, it’s complicated. Perhaps in my heart I wanted to change. I will endeavor to make clear that this is quite enough though.”
“Yes, yes, quite enough. You don’t know the struggles I went through with Leo all those years, or with Jack after him.”
I wished he hadn’t mentioned Jack.
Excerpted from An Accident of Dragons, copyright © 2024 by Cheri Radke.
