CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
C’Tan screamed as the girl fell from her grasp. She’d had her in the palm of her hand, and because of a little pain, the dragon had let her go.
“Stupid beast!” she yelled at the winged dragon beneath her. She pounded on his armored back, though she knew it would not even faze him. “Get her! Get her now!” she howled as the dragon gathered itself and shook. C’Tan clung tight to the mount and cursed him silently. Too moody, too sensitive, these dragons. Too soft for her taste, but all she had to work with, all her master would allow. He was too partial to these beasts, she felt, but could not, would not ever say it.
“Get her!” she shrieked again when the dragon had calmed. C’Tan was pleased to see the girl had landed awkwardly when she hit the water. The pain must have been pretty awful, and might even slow her down a bit. She wished Kardon was nearby. She would have loved to throw the useless old man in after the girl and watch him flounder. She was certainly not going in to retrieve her. The water was too hard on her riding leathers, let alone the dampening effect it had on her magic.
The dragon still had not moved, so C’Tan kicked him in the sides with her spiked heels. The beast bellowed with pain and turned a long, sinewy neck to glare at her with one baleful eye. He hissed, and she snarled back, wearied of the battle for power she went through with him every day. Why couldn’t S’Kotos have selected a more obedient animal when he chose his totem? She glared at the dragon, and finally he turned his head back with a last hiss.
C’Tan was determined to capture the girl before she escaped, and then realization hit her. She laughed. Where could the girl go? It’s not like she could breathe in the water. All C’Tan had to do was persuade her dragon to move, and she could pick Kayla up. The flute would be hers and hers alone! No half-evahn runt was going to take the blue keystone from her; she’d worked too hard to find it.
“Toast them or pick her up, but move, you stupid beast!” she yelled at the dragon, who listened to her at last, tucked his wings, and dove. He belched several balls of fire, but missed the runt, of course. C’Tan had better aim with a rock than this beast had with his fire. She tried to wait patiently, but patience was not one of her virtues and never had been. It disappeared completely when the tattooed Ketahean swam toward the girl. She didn’t know what he was capable of, but something told her that only trouble came with this trio—trouble for her.
“Go and get her, beast!” The dragon dove and got hold of the girl’s satchel, which was strung across her back. He started to lift her from the water. It was slow-going with the added weight and nearness of the water, and the drake had to struggle for every inch of height he gained.
He sagged again when the Ketahean grabbed the girl and climbed up her body high enough to reach the dragon. C’Tan watched in satisfied horror as the tattooed man pulled a great knife from his belt and stabbed the dragon between the toes, then sawed at the straps. They parted, giving way strand by strand, until the last few broke all at once, severing the bag’s strap. She felt no pity for the beast, but lost her treasure once again as the girl was freed and fell to the water once more. She did not resurface. C’Tan waited, growing more agitated with every passing second.
It didn’t take long for her to realize the girl was not coming back up. C’Tan howled at the loss. Furious, she sent spikes of lightning flame surging into the water. She sent wave after wave, hoping she would hit the half-evahn called Kayla and could retrieve her body from the flotsam dotting the surface, but the girl did not come. C’Tan realized her defeat.
“No!” she screamed at the dragons that now huddled around her, waiting for orders. It would be easy to end it now, to give in to the failure, go home, and await her next chance, but she could not stand the bitter taste of defeat in her mouth, nor would her master be pleased that she had come so close. He would not blame his dragon for the error. No, he would hold her responsible, and the last thing she wanted was more of her master’s unwanted attention. She shivered at the thought and made up her mind.
She must have that flute! There had to be a way she could enter the water without losing her flame.
And then it hit her.
The tunnels.
She yanked on the reins of the midnight dragon and turned him south, despite his pain-filled howling.
“Shut up, Drake. We’ll take care of you later. Right now we’ve got an entrance to find.”
He quieted, though tremors still shivered through his body.
“What do you mean, mistress?”
C’Tan spurred him forward. “We’re going after them, Drake, and you’re going to help me.”
“But I cannot enter the water—” he started, but she cut him off.
“I know that, fool. We’re not going in the water. We’re going to go through it—if we can find the entrance to the waterways. Now move it, before I remove your wings with my teeth.”
The dragon snorted at her useless threat, but flew south. He flew fast, for he knew of what she spoke. The waterways that ran beneath the oceans of Rasann were made long ago, and few still knew of their existence. Drake knew. He knew them well.
The Sapphire Flute: Book 1 of The Wolfchild Saga Page 33