A Shade of Dragon

by Bella Forrest

  “Hello?” I called out into the winds. The shifting currents of snow dampened my voice, and I wasn’t sure that anyone could hear me at all. The breathing continued its dragging pace. “Is somebody in there?”

  No response. Only the snow falling from the sky, and the waves fizzling as they ran over the sand, and me, poised against this rock, sweater and hair fretting in the breeze.

  “If anybody is in there, just shout for me. I can come get you. It’s going to be all right.”

  Still nothing… except that deep, rhythmic rumble. I was torn between advancing on the cave—what if I was hearing the echo of someone crushed beneath a rock, the echo of someone slowly freezing to death?—and returning to Dad’s new beach house, promising myself it’d been nothing but my imagination.

  I glanced down and grimaced. The ocean had risen and swamped the rocks on which I stood. If I wanted to avoid sloshing through it all, I was going to have to crawl over these formations to reach some dry sand… while it still existed.

  Throwing a leg over this abutment and shimmying toward the next string of rocks, I divided my attention between my own stability and glaring at the cave. I needed both hands; I slid the phone into my back pocket again. Calling 911, or sending a message to my dad, never even occurred to me.

  It was dark, but not so dark that I couldn’t distinguish between the shifting of the gray tide and the ribbon of slightly lighter damp sand at the cave entrance. I only had a few minutes before dry escape was impossible. Even now, the waves were ahead of me… but still—that breathing.

  “If you can hear me, I’m coming in to get you,” I called, praying that whoever it was would be small enough for me to tote. Situations of life and death could inspire great bursts of strength. I hoped. “Just hold tight. I know it’s cold. But you’ll be okay.”

  Slithering over the jagged stones, I managed to keep my feet dry, but the ocean beat me into the cave. Time was running out for whoever was trapped in there, their labored breath echoing off the walls. What if they were far back, and I couldn’t reach them without caving equipment? Or what if they were already partially submerged in this freezing water? What if they were pinned beneath something immovable? What if I got stuck too, and we both—?

  Don’t think about that. Just focus on the present.

  The narrow entrance to the cave seemed much wider and more intimidating now that it was upon me. The slit led into blackness. Even the tiny needle of light from my cell phone could not penetrate it. The breathing was louder. There was no way it was my imagination.

  Pursing my lips, I drove onward into the cave, pressing my back against one rock and my feet against another, holding myself aloft over the churning waves. It was too dark to see how deep they were. And my legs were getting so tired… so stiff…

  The breath vibrated all around me. I realized with a jolt of panic that locating its source might be nearly impossible.

  No. No. No!

  I hugged the next rock, slinging my legs around it, and found it wet and cold with the mist from the waves. At least I could rest. I was afraid to keep moving. I was going to either hurt myself climbing or fall into the water. As much as I hated to admit that I might have made a mistake, I couldn’t think of a way out of this situation. You don’t even have a flashlight, Nell, my shoulder angel berated me. What were you thinking?

  The best thing I could do would be to call 911 and get the hell out of here before it was too late for me too.

  “I—I’m going to call for help!” I yelled into the cave. My own voice shrilled back to me. Whoever was breathing in here was definitely unconscious. I slid my cell phone from my pocket and dialed 911. The screen’s illumination caught something against the wall of the cave.

  A long, thick, scaled tube of ebony flesh, like some kind of cave-dwelling anaconda, draped along the rocks just behind my head.

  I gasped. The cell phone clattered against the rock and disappeared into the black water beneath me. Without thinking, I grabbed for the phone and slid downward with a shriek that filled the cave. It was the last thing I heard before I tumbled into the ocean.

  A thousand pins sank into my body and my muscles seized. I automatically inhaled and jerked to the surface—the water was only a foot deep—coughing and sputtering on my hands and knees in the rushing ocean water. Rational thought had flown. A fresh wave slammed me against another rock formation, driving me off of my feet. I hit face-first and emerged from the water again, clawing for leverage and still coughing.

  Oh, God… Once your head has gone underwater… How long do you have before…?

  The phone was gone in the dark water. I’d never sent the call to 9-1-1. No one knew I was here. When would my dad think to come looking for me? By then, would water already have filled this cave? Would I still be alive?

  Yes! You’re not going to die, Nell.

  I lunged upward from the freezing water with a graceless thrash, swinging one arm up to grab the tip of the stalagmite against which I’d been thrown, holding myself from sinking back into the water. I just had to get out of this water. Then I’d be on a ticking clock to crawl out of this cave. I’d need to run to the nearest house for help. You have about five minutes after immersion in freezing water… because after that, muscles began to lock up. I wouldn’t be able to swim anymore. Or walk.

  I pulled with all my might, but my leg wouldn’t come out of the water. One had curled up around the stalagmite, but the other… My left leg remained straight, up to its knee in the frigid ocean water, not budging. I was stuck. My leg had gotten caught, and I was so cold, I couldn’t even tell.

  Another wave lashed over me, soaking my jeans to the thigh again.

  Okay, okay, okay, still not lost, still can get out of here. Just need to get my leg loose. I can do this… even without feeling in my leg. I have enough feeling in my hands to get loose. It’s going to be fine. I’ve got this. I’ve got this. I’m a straight-A student at the Shenandoah Institute…

  With this nonsensical thought chattering away in my head, I sucked in a breath and plunged into the water. It was deep enough that I needed to submerge to grope along my left leg, searching for the point at which my leg had become secured.

  My hands traveled the length of my leg until they reached the hem of my jeans, which were ensnared between some rocks. I gripped the fabric and yanked, feeling the tension come loose and my leg come free just as another wave swept into the cave and pulled me deeper still, past the stalagmite. I burst to the surface, coughing for breath and numb all over, just as the suction of the wave dumped me into a shallow basin. The water was only a foot or so deep there, but I was struggling to breathe and increasingly clumsy. How many minutes had it been now? Two?

  I was just bracing against a rock to pull myself up when the wave which had carried me this far was sucked back out into the sea beyond, and I was dragged backward into water which was only a few inches deep. Yes. Yes. Yes. Even though my body was racked with spasms, I felt a flicker of gratitude for the indifferent laws of nature. I wasn’t going to drown… if I could just stand up. Right now.

  A new wave rocketed over my face. My thoughts must have been slowing down. How many seconds did I have left before my body started to shut down?

  The new wave thrust me further into the basin, and I struggled against my deadened arms and legs to orient myself. Another wave would be here soon… and I realized, with a jolt, that the entrance of the cave was some twenty feet away now. I couldn’t see anything at all in here. I couldn’t feel my body anymore… or think… or move…

  Another wave.

  It wasn’t so bad. All those waves were keeping me out of the deeper water by driving me further into the cave. I was continually deposited onto land and then tugged back into the shallows. Everything would be fine if I could just get on some dry land and curl up and take a nap. I’d watch the waves rush in and out, watch the snow falling all around me, like warm scraps of cotton… And my phone would wash up alongside me and it wouldn’t be damaged.
I’d hit the send button and get Dad on the phone. He’d be down here in a few minutes. What time was it? I hoped he’d be able to get my text. I didn’t want to wait too long. He was always late. So irresponsible.

  I just had to get deeper into the cave and everything would be fine. My phone had to be in here somewhere. The snow would warm me up.

  The rhythmic breathing was a series of gasps and sputters now.

  Oh, wait… That’s… me…

  Chapter 6: Nell

  Things were beginning to blur and bleed, shifting between black and red. My nerves had all but shut down. In the documentary my life had become—something I was watching on a distant screen—the main character, a clearly doomed girl, was strewn across a rock. Although breathing, she was almost immersed in freezing, black water. It was up to her chest. She would be dead soon.

  This movie was boring. I closed my eyes and turned it off. That was much better.

  I sensed motion, and struggled to open my heavy eyelids. I was being carried in a man’s arms. The realization was accompanied with none of the customary shock. I dripped heavily as he carried me. I didn’t have the strength to support my own head, which he cradled against his chest. He was as warm as a bonfire and even being near him was painful. It burned to feel his warmth. My fingers, burying themselves into the hair at the nape of his neck, sang with agony as they returned to life.

  “Did you save the other one?” I whispered. My voice was halting in my throat.

  “There was no other.” His voice was a terse baritone. “Only you.”

  “Wh-where is the ambulance?” He had carried me not out, but deeper in. The ground was dry. I couldn’t see the sky. “Where is my phone?”

  Ignoring me, he bowed and let me sprawl across a risen platform of stone. Strangely, it was soft. I trailed my fingers over the blanket of feathers.

  He braced his hands on his thick thighs and leaned over me, inspecting. I stared into his eyes. He was blurry, but blurrily gorgeous. His face reminded me of a jaguar: his features were chiseled yet sensual, exotic but somber, like something beautiful and wild which was threatened by extinction. His skin was a rich olive tone, his hair fell in wispy, loose dark curls to the nape of his neck, and his eyes were a deep gold.

  Maybe I was hallucinating.

  “You will need resuscitation only once more.” He walked around me to somewhere behind my head. My neck couldn’t move. I was trembling from head to foot.

  “Wh-where’s the ambulance?”

  “I do not know ‘ambulance.’” He returned to my field of vision and crouched alongside me. “Prepare yourself for resuscitation once more.” He threaded his fingers into my hair and cupped the back of my head. I stared at him, almost more afraid than I was cold. “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “N-N-Nell,” I answered.

  “Prepare yourself for resuscitation once more, Nell,” he instructed. “It will not hurt.”

  With that, he gently pried my jaw open and placed his lips against mine.

  Chapter 7: Nell

  My eyes widened as the sensation of heat filled my body, reaching down into my fingers and toes, even fluttering from my hair follicles. It lasted only three seconds, and then the mysterious man pulled away from me, detaching his lips from my own. They tingled. Everything tingled. I gazed up at him, mired in curious euphoria, and said, “Who are you?”

  “I am Theon, of Iphras,” he answered, voice booming with pride.

  “And what did you just do to me?”

  “I resuscitated you. Thrice.”

  “You did that to me three times?” I didn’t remember the first two at all.

  Theon glanced over at me, then grimaced and lowered himself to the ground so that our eyes would be even. “You seem upset,” he told me. His gaze was almost sad. “I meant no harm. I heard your cries. I saw you fall. I thought it best to warm and dry your body.” His brow furrowed. “Was I wrong?”

  “No,” I said. “I just thought… there would be… an ambulance.”

  “You’ll be safe without ‘ambulance,’” he said. “The tide is resting now. When it has receded, we may exit the cave and find you ambulance, if you desire it so.”

  “Yeah… What is this place?” The ceilings were as high as a cathedral, and light filled the room, fluctuating like orange oil on the stones of the wall. I twisted and found that a pit was flaming just behind us, real fire crackling and dancing in its depths. “Where are we?”

  “The nest of a beast,” Theon answered. “I can answer no more questions. I have traveled no further than this into its depths. I have only recently arrived myself.”

  “I’m glad you arrived when you did,” I said, fragments of the event beginning to fall into place. He must have heard my cries from outside the cavern and rescued me. I wondered, then, what had been making that breathing sound. The ‘beast?’ And if Theon knew this cave well enough to have staked out its animals and made fire, what was he doing in here? Living? “Do you live here, Theon?”

  “I’m a visitor to your beach,” he answered. “I wouldn’t call it living.”

  “Same,” I grumbled without thinking.

  The dark house must have been his; someone living in this cave—especially someone who appeared attractive and intelligent—was too much to believe. That would explain why no one had been home in that house—he’d been on the beach, too—and it would explain how he could know this cave so well. It was right next to his house. Naturally, he’d have explored it better than any other resident on this strip, perhaps even constructing areas in which he himself could relax.

  “From what kingdom do you hail?”

  “Uh, the District of Columbia,” I answered, persuaded to use its full title by his formal tone. “And you?”

  “It’s a country of which I doubt you have heard.”

  “They must have impeccable literacy rates there,” I remarked to myself. Probably Canada. Everyone thinks Americans are so stupid. “What are you doing around here, so close to Christmas, all by yourself? Are you alone?”

  He broke eye contact and nodded gravely. “Yes, I am alone. But I came here in the hopes of remedying that.” He glanced over at me and blinked. How was he so calm? And how were his eyelashes so thick? “Are you?”

  “Alone?” I stammered. “No. I’m, uh, here with my family. My dad, and his fiancée, and my soon-to-be stepbrother, who I should… really… get back to, now that I think about it. They’re probably starting to get worried.”

  “What is a fiancée?” Theon wondered.

  I raked my fingers through my now-dry hair, bemused. “It’s a French word. It means a woman who is engaged to be wed.” I rubbed at my neck and winced, my other hand going to my lower back. Now that I was no longer numb, aches and pains were emerging in every joint.

  “Your dad, then, is very lucky.”

  “That’s sweet of you to say,” I allowed, grimacing as my fingers dug into the torn muscles of my neck. “He’s been ‘very lucky’ three times now. But his luck always runs out.”

  “Unfortunate,” Theon replied. “Would you like me to help you?” He advanced, hands outstretched, but I bristled.

  “You’re really a jack of all trades, huh?” I was beginning to feel uncomfortable in this cave with this total stranger volunteering to rub my body. “Did you say the tide was resting? How long will that take?”

  “Not much longer now,” he informed me, kneeling to peer into my eyes again. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. My touch is strong, but it will relent at even the slightest resistance. Would you like to stand at the fire?”

  I stood, still uncertain of him, and hobbled toward the bonfire. I winced with every step.

  “You will not be able to walk to your home in that way,” Theon stated. I imagined how my father would swaddle me in blankets and feed me soup if he saw me limping into the house late at night. “May I touch you?”

  I weighed my options. Denying him really made little sense at all. “I guess,” I said, still hesitant.
“Do you really know what you’re doing back there?”

  His thumbs dug into the flesh at the nape of my neck and the pain melted away instantly, replaced by a shudder of pleasure. I wrapped my arms around myself and shifted into him subconsciously. “I believe so,” Theon answered casually, working down either shoulder and massaging my arms. I felt the warmth of his chest on my back and my cheeks heated. It’d been a while since I’d been in a position like this with anybody. Six months, to be exact, and that’d been Andrew freaking Hardy… not exactly comparable to this guy, who looked to be all of six and a half feet in height and two hundred plus pounds of pure muscle.

  “How long will you be in Maine?” I asked him as he worked his thumbs along my spine again, all the way down to the muscular crevasse just above my tailbone.

  “As long as I must be,” Theon responded. “Turn for me.”

  I turned without even considering not turning. He dropped to his knees and touched my ankles, prodding them gently. Even there, the pain melted away. My eyelashes fluttered as he migrated along my legs, one hand braced over my right and the other braced over my left. His fingers explored the backs of my thighs, receded respectfully at the curve of my buttocks, and grasped my hips without regard for how sensually the gesture could have been interpreted. His thumbs probed over my oblique musculature and I bit my lip. His expression was one of concentration; he hardly seemed to realize that this gesture might make me feel good—really good—and that it could be awkward… nor did I possess the strength of will, for perhaps the first time ever, to tell him to stop. To my horror, a sigh came purring up from my throat.

  Theon lifted his head and examined me. His firm hands did not leave my hips. “You seem much better now.” He nodded and dropped his grip on me. “The resting period of the tide will have passed by now.” He turned and began to stalk through the cavern without waiting for a response. “Shall we?”