With the venison, they’d not only eat for a while, but he could even trade it for other items. They might even be able to get some grains. Considering how rare those were, he couldn’t imagine that luxury.
The trek back to the village took a long time. He buried the deer behind the stone cottage he shared with his sister and mother, packing it underneath the snow and ice, sealing it as tightly as he could. It was better to preserve it that way, and would give them an opportunity to butcher it at his leisure. The neighboring cottages were far enough apart that he hoped no one saw what he’d brought to the village. Theft was rare here, but it did happen.
He hurried into the home. Kayla was there, working in the kitchen, and she looked over. “You’re back already?” she asked.
“Venison.”
She dropped the bowl she was cleaning. “What?”
He couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. “Venison.”
“You got one?” she whispered.
“I got one. I buried it behind the house. Better yet, there was a herd of them.”
She blinked. “A herd?”
“Listen, Kayla. With that many deer… I’m going back.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
Wise didn’t matter. What mattered was that he took care of his sister. His mother. With that herd, he could do more than he’d done for them so far. “I know it’s getting late already, but if I don’t go, their tracks will be covered. If I can get another one…”
After taking a deep breath, she nodded. “Go. Show me where you buried it.”
He grinned, hurrying out of the house, and Kayla followed him, not dressed for the cold but for the first time, he didn’t care. He understood why she wouldn’t care, either.
He pointed to where he had buried the animal and she moved some of the snow away. Her breath caught when she got to the smooth fur.
“How long has it been?”
“Too long,” he said. “Do you think you can make something with that for tonight?”
“I know that I can,” she said.
He stood, rubbing his stomach. It was too bad he didn’t have time to eat anything now, but he was thankful for the sweet bread Tessa had provided. Without that, he might’ve been too hungry and weakened to drag the deer all the way back here.
She hugged him. “Thank you. This might even make Mother feel better.”
Jason started back out, away from the village, trailing after the path he’d made when he’d dragged the deer through the snow. Every so often, droplets of blood marked where he’d come from, giving him an easy way to navigate, and he reached the small section beyond the ridgeline where he’d first spotted the herd.
Jason glanced up at the sky. It was getting late and the wind was starting to pick up, but in his excitement, and filled with hope, he didn’t allow that to slow him this time. Instead, he raced forward, reaching the place where he’d bled out the deer, and followed the prints of the rest of the herd through the snow. With as many deer as there were, it was easy enough to follow. Had there been only one, the tracks might have drifted over more quickly, but with five deer remaining, he was able to find where they’d gone. If he waited, the prints would be gone by morning. Not only would the wind lead to drifting, covering them with banks of snow, but the fresh snow that almost always came each night would cover them just as well.
He had to move quickly. He checked his bow, then his quiver, patting them to make sure he had the necessary supplies, and hurried across the snow as he searched for the path the deer had taken.
He worried what would happen if he failed to find them.
Nothing. He’d already gotten one, so this hunting trip was a success regardless of anything else. Even if he didn’t find another, he would still have gotten his family food for the next month. That was enough. It had to be.
He followed the tracks, hurrying across the snow, and for the first time, he didn’t wish for dragonskin boots. His bearskin boots were heavy enough for here. Besides, with as light and fluffy as the snow happened to be, he was able to stay practically on top of it as he hurried forward.
He maneuvered quickly across the snow, making his way through the thick blanket. The further he went, the more he began to sink into the snow itself. The wind started to pick up, whistling around him, and he clutched his jacket. Days like this, it would be better to have warmer clothing. Then again, it would have been better for him not to have risked coming out at a time like this. Hunting in the middle of the day, when the sun was still shining, was far safer than coming out like this as the weather turned and cold began to blow around him.
The tracks shifted direction and Jason followed them. They meandered around the slope of the mountain and he continued to follow them, noting the way they looped around. They picked up the pace, almost as if they had been chased here.
Jason didn’t see anything else that would suggest the deer had been chased by anything. What had inspired the deer to change their course?
He paused, searching the horizon, using his silver eye to peer out and look for anything that might suggest a change in temperature, the shifting warmth that would indicate where he could find the deer, but he didn’t find them. Nothing but white around him. A few rocky outcroppings. Snow swirling around him. No movement.
It meant he would have to continue following the tracks. The farther they went, the harder he knew it would be. He traced the tracks, moving as quickly as he could, and paused every so often, looking into the distance, searching for signs of either movement or shifting colors that would suggest that he would find them.
The sun began to set, dropping below the neighboring mountaintop.
Eventually, it would be too dark to continue tracking the deer. If he had any heat signatures, anything he could uncover with his silver eye, then he might be able to use that to follow them, but without anything, he had no idea which direction the deer could have gone.
It was time to head back.
There was no shame in returning. The only thing that disappointed him was the fact he’d allowed himself to feel the optimism, the belief he might finally have a break for their family, but not coming across the rest of the herd didn’t mean they would suffer. They had meat for the month. In that time, Jason could continue to hunt. He could continue to collect other animals, and perhaps they would even get ahead.
He debated what to do, considering whether he should return or continue to follow the tracks.
As the wind whistled around, he knew it would become increasingly difficult to do so. Soon, the snow would cover the tracks completely.
Either way, he would lose the ability to follow the deer, and then he would wander.
It was not difficult to find his way toward the village. It was directly up the slope of the mountain, and Jason had hunted enough times outside of the city that he was able to return without needing the guidance of the village itself to lead him.
His father wouldn’t have turned away.
Then again, his father often went out with larger hunting parties—and off the back slope, and because of that, they were able to hunt more easily than Jason was able to do.
He breathed out and turned back upslope.
He wasn’t giving up.
As he went, with the daylight fading, he noticed a soft rumble.
He frowned. In the mountains, a rumble like that could be dangerous. It could indicate an avalanche had been triggered, and though they’d people within the village who were trained to ensure the avalanches were controlled, sometimes they were triggered regardless. He knew better than to get caught out in an avalanche like that, aware that if he were to get trapped, he could get swept down the mountain—or worse, covered by the snow.
Rather than staying here and waiting, he began to hurry.
As he did, he looked up the slope, focusing, searching for any sign of snow shifting, the telltale signature of an avalanche, but he didn’t see anything.
Instead, there came another rumbling.
It almost sounded as if the cannon were being fired, but that couldn’t be it, could it? The festival was over—at least mostly—and there was no need to continue firing the explosives, regardless of whether or not there were some remaining. They would last until the following year, until the next festival, and there was no shame in holding on to them until then.
When it came again, he realized that it wasn’t an explosion.
At least, it wasn’t an explosion like he had thought.
It was a ballista bolt.
Reltash.
That stupid man.
After hearing their plan the night before, he knew that was what it had to be.
When was the last time the bolts had been fired like that?
It had been years. Long enough that Jason had never even seen them fired, though he had known they would have been.
He trudged up the side of the mountain. Darkness fell, swallowing him.
Jason continued to work his way up the side of the mountain. It was difficult to tell how much farther he had to go. He had made a mistake pushing as far as he had, thinking he had time to track the deer. What had he been thinking? They were far enough downslope by the time he’d gotten there that he had only put himself in danger.
Now he’d be caught out here in the night. With the wind picking up, the cold swirling around him, he didn’t know if he would be able to get back to his house.
As he went, he thought he should have reached the village by now. Where was it?
Another rumble, and he looked up.
This time, he was certain it was the sound of an avalanche. If the ground started to shift, he’d need to try to angle downslope, anything to ensure he moved out of the snow flow. He didn’t see anything.
Even his strange eyesight wouldn’t help him here. He might be able to detect movement, but without the heat gradient, there would be no way for him to notice anything. If it was an avalanche, it would obscure his ability to find anything.
Trudging up the side of the mountain, he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep warm. With the wind whipping around, he was growing increasingly cold, and the longer he went, the more he feared he would end up frozen out here in the night. Others had frozen, not making it back to the village before the terrible winds picked up. Without the assistance of a dragonskin jacket, he might not be dressed warmly enough to survive.
Snow began to drift, and he felt it shifting beneath his feet as the rumbling returned.
This time, there was no question. An avalanche.
He wasn’t going to be able to outrun it. The snow moved too quickly.
Jason had lived on this mountain his entire life. He’d encountered a few avalanches before, but they still terrified him. Most of them were small, little more than a shelf of snow breaking off and forcing him down. Others were larger—the kind where people died.
He had no idea which this was. With the rumbling, he feared a larger avalanche.
Which meant he’d have to try to either move away from the main part of the snow sliding down, or be prepared for it to bury him.
He turned, making a split-second decision, and started angling down the slope.
His feet carried him as quickly as he could go across the snow. As he went, the rumbling continued to build, louder and louder, and he hazarded a glance behind him, but in the dim darkness, he wasn’t able to make anything out.
Jason turned his attention back down the slope and continued to run off to the side.
Was he going to be fast enough to outrun the avalanche?
5
Jason lost track of how long he’d been running. Half the time, he’d been sliding, his footing slipping; but each time he paused, he could swear he heard the avalanche return, the unstable snow shifting beneath him, screaming at him that he didn’t have anyplace secure quite yet.
It meant he had to keep running, but he wasn’t sure that he was able to do so. The longer he went, the more tired he became. How long had it been?
It seemed as if he had been running for an hour, possibly longer. The longer he went, the less likely he’d be able to make it someplace safe.
Already he’d gone farther downslope than he ever had before. Even when he’d been out with his father, he hadn’t hunted this far down the slope. Doing so was dangerous because it brought him away from the village, to the point where he wouldn’t be able to return in the same day.
There was nothing in this direction. No villages. No cities. Nothing.
At this point, all he could think about was finding someplace to stay warm.
The wind continued to tear at him, freezing him, and if he didn’t find a place soon, he would end up out in the cold, suffering, and he might not make it through the night.
He needed shelter, but what kind of shelter could he find?
The snow itself could provide some. If it came down to it, he could burrow a hole into the snow and use that to insulate himself. Then again, he wasn’t sure he was dressed warmly enough for that. His feet were already cold despite the fact he had dressed as warmly as he could.
Jason hurried onward, trying not to think of what would happen if he didn’t find a safe place. He was tired, not thinking clearly. As he wound down the slope, he could swear he saw a flickering light, almost as if there were something down there.
Maybe an animal.
He had been going far enough that it was possible he would have run into the herd of deer again.
They shouldn’t have been up the slope that far in the first place. There wouldn’t have been anything for them. No food to graze on. No shelter from the cold and the wind. For them to have wandered that high had to mean they were scared into going up there.
What would have chased the deer?
Something else.
Something worse.
Dragons once hunted these lands. They called them their own.
His father’s words came back to him again, but he didn’t think it was a dragon. They wouldn’t be spotted in the mountains. At least, he wouldn’t have thought they’d be spotted the mountains, but then he’d heard the ballista fired.
How had he gone from finding a deer and being so thrilled with that to where he was now? He couldn’t believe he would suffer like this, that he would end up in this situation, but he had to find a way to survive. He had to find a way to return, if only for Kayla and his mother. Kayla wouldn’t be able to survive without him. His mother wouldn’t either. At least they had the meat. It would give them enough time and reprieve to last a little longer.
As he went, he was increasingly certain there was something down there, though he wasn’t able to tell what it was. It wasn’t moving, and the strangeness stood out against the night. He covered his blue eye, using only the silver one to see. Sometimes he had to do that in order to find the contrast. The only problem was that it affected his depth perception when he covered his other eye.
As he stared, focusing through that eye, he could swear he saw contrast. Colors.
It wasn’t imagined.
A fire?
That seemed impossible to believe. Why would there be a fire along the slope?
He didn’t think there was another village here. There were homes scattered along the slope, but they were incredibly infrequent. He’d not encountered any of them, either. Most of the homes were found in the backcountry. It wasn’t quite as rugged, and the snow didn’t fall as often or as thick as it did on this slope.
Maybe that was what he had come across. If he had, then it was possible he would find someone who could help, and he might be able to survive the night. As long as he didn’t have to do it out in the open, he thought he would be able to pull through.
As he hurried, he stared into the distance, watching the colors, searching for anything that would tell him what he was seeing and whether or not it was real.
The closer he came, the more certain he was that it was a fire.
Jason slowed his steps, approaching more carefully. A fire out i
n the open like this suggested someone had something to burn. Seeing as how he hadn’t encountered anything yet, no signs of trees or brush or anything that could be useful for a fire, he had to wonder who was out here and what they were burning.
He allowed himself to be drawn toward the fire. Almost too late, he realized he was focused only on the fire and not on the possibility there would be someone around it.
Jason hesitated, remaining motionless. He didn’t want to draw any attention to himself, and he slowly sank to the ground. At least his bearskin jacket and pants would conceal him, but the movement might have already drawn attention. He stared into the distance, looking for anything that might suggest there was someone out there, but he didn’t find anything.
If they were wearing dragonskin, he might not even see them. That was one of the strange advantages to it. Even with his dragon sight, he wasn’t able to determine the heat differential between the dragonskin and the snow. It was a strange thing, almost as if the dragonskin jacket absorbed the cold of the snow, deflecting it outward, making the wearer almost invisible.
Use the mountains. The snow. Blend into it. The bearskin offers advantages dragonskin does not.
Jason smiled at the memory. It had been his father’s way of trying to convince him the bearskin was somehow more valuable. As they’d caught it together, perhaps it was.
He crawled forward. At least the snow was soft, and moving like this allowed him to go soundlessly, so that nothing out there would be able to hear him. With the wind whistling around, his passing would be obscured, so if anyone was trailing him, they would soon lose his tracks.
There was no further sound of the avalanche. All signs of that had faded, the rumbling gone, and he no longer felt the snow stirring beneath his feet the way he had before. Thankfully, that much was over, but what would happen if it started again?
He would have to keep running.
Another gust of wind swirled around him, and he shivered. It was cold, and this close to the snow, he wasn’t finding any residual warmth.
The fire drew him, enticing him, and he wanted nothing more than to be close to it, to allow the heat to fill him, to surround him, and yet, he hesitated.
Ice Dragon: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Dragon Misfits Book 1) Page 5