Jael led the way so quickly that Tanis panted in his efforts to keep up, but she did not slow. The heady euphoria of the Bluebright was long gone now, but she was full of another drug—the drug of power, of wholeness, of strength. Her sword almost called to her, and she wanted to draw it, wanted to feel it light and alive in her hand.
Abruptly she stopped. The tunnel they needed to take was ahead of them, but she heard movement in the darkness there— strong, deliberate movement.
“I hear it, too,” Tanis whispered. “What is it?”
“I don’t know,” Jael whispered back. “It’s large, whatever it is. A hatchling, I think.”
“But what’s it doing away from its nest?” Tanis asked worriedly.
“Maybe when they’re old enough, they prowl the caves,” Jael said, shrugging. “I don’t know anything about dragon hatchlings. Who does? But I can smell it now, and it smells like dragon.”
“What can we do?” Tanis whispered.
“If we can get a little farther,” Jael said, “we’ll reach the side tunnel where we found the first nest. It should be well after dark now, so we can get away.”
As if in answer, another scratching sound came from somewhere to one side, down one of the passages they hadn’t explored. Other sounds came from somewhere behind them.
“They’re everywhere,” Tanis said tensely.
“They must’ve scented us,” Jael said calmly. “I thought we wouldn’t smell like prey through this liniment, but some of our own scent must’ve come through. Come on, this way.” She led Tanis down a side passage.
“Where does this go?”
Jael paused, feeling the stone around her.
“Out the west side of the hill,” she said. “We can work our way back south once we’re outside.”
Suddenly the scent of dragon filled her nose, hot and musky and metallic, and Jael’s sword was in her hand before she realized she’d drawn it, before the bulk of the hatchling nearly filled the tunnel ahead of them, appearing as if by magic. Tanis gasped and drew his sword also, but Jael had already stepped forward, her sword raised and moving in hypnotic flashes of reflected lantern light.
Jael heard the hiss of Tanis’s sword being drawn from its scabbard, but that fact was as irrelevant as the light that glinted off her sword and the dragon’s scales. For once in her life Jael was calm and sure. She’d kill this dragon, and if not, it would kill her, but she’d die with a whole soul, strong and brave as a warrior should be.
The dragon roared its challenge, and Jael struck; fortunately the large passage that allowed the hatchling to maneuver also gave Jael room for her strokes, so long as she kept her pattern tight.
The hatchling roared angrily and struck with one foreclaw, but its attack was slow and clumsy. Jael wondered almost idly if it had ever dealt with live prey before, much less prey able to defend itself and even to attack.
Yes, she’d kill this dragon, slice it to slivers and gorge herself on its bloody flesh to feed her ravening hunger—
Startled, Jael faltered, falling back a step. Fortunately Tanis stepped forward, keeping the hatchling engaged while Jael recovered.
Where had that come from? Jael wasn’t hungry; they’d eaten only a couple of hours earlier. And fond as she was of dragon, she certainly wasn’t interested in raw, bloody meat. What had—
Hunger. Fury. Confusion.
All of Jael’s cool self-possession faded, and she almost staggered as alien emotions, frightening in their raw intensity, surged through her. For a moment she fought merely to hold her sword, wanting to fling the strange metal away from her, leap at the hatchling and attack with tooth and nail alone, like a—
—a beast?
Jael fought down a surge of panic. How could she fight a dragon hatchling in its own lair, feeling its own feelings? Gods, could she even wound it without feeling its pain?
“Can you find any safe passage?” Tanis shouted, dodging a forepaw tipped with razor-sharp claws.
Jael’s head spun. Retreat? Was this cowardly churl suggesting she retreat before this puny reptile? Hunger. Anger. Why, she could dice this overgrown lizard into pieces small enough to tear, rend the soft flesh, crunch rich marrow from the bones.
Gods, where could she flee from her own mind?
Here, only two places: into death, or into stone.
Jael stumbled backward into the wall of the passageway, trusting Tanis to keep the hatchling busy for a moment longer. She laid both hands flat against the wet stone, concentrating, and the hatchling roared its surprise as the stone under its feet softened, enveloping the three paws still resting there. Tanis immediately took in what was happening and danced back to dodge the reaching forepaw and to avoid being sucked in himself.
“I think that’ll hold it,” Tanis panted, watching the hatchling rage. “But we’d better get away from here before the noise draws others.”
Now that she had a moment to concentrate, she could shut out the furious raw drives of the hatchling—gods, if only she’d been able to do this years ago!—and reach again for stone, feel the intricate net of crisscrossing passageways through the hill. Dimly she could sense other hatchlings, but her consciousness of stone was much stronger, more immediate, and she couldn’t place where the young dragons were.
“The second passageway on the left as we go back,” Jael panted. “Hurry!”
Tanis didn’t waste his breath on a reply, but followed Jael, picking up the lantern he’d placed on the ground. They trotted along as quickly as the slippery and uneven footing would allow, but they could hear the enraged roar of the hatchling behind them—and, worse, a louder roar that likely signified an even more enraged mother trying to reach her offspring in a passage too small to accommodate her larger bulk.
“This way.” Jael started to pull Tanis into the passageway, then stopped. Ahead she heard a distinct scrabbling sound, and the scent of dragon was plain in the steamy air. “Not this way.”
“Well, where, then?” Tanis panted, a note of panic creeping into his voice.
Desperately Jael felt the stone again, and there she found an answer.
“Up,” she said.
“Up?” Tanis looked up at the solid ceiling. “Where?”
Jael dug her fingers into stone. It melted obligingly before her touch, forming cup-shaped depressions deep enough to make good footholds.
“I’ll go first,” she said. “Then hand me the lantern, then you.”
“Go where?” Tanis asked helplessly, but he was boosting Jael up from behind.
Jael reached the top of her makeshift ladder and laid her hand against the stone of the ceiling, feeling the thin skin separating her from the upper caverns. This was more complicated— making the stone flow aside without letting it drop down on herself or Tanis—and she had to work slowly, every moment aware of the scrabbling noises growing louder from the side tunnel. At last the opening was wide enough to climb through to the tunnel above, and she scrambled up—gods, no time to form a ridge to brace against—then reached down for the lantern. Tanis handed it up, but he was already scrambling up the footholds Jael had made.
“Hurry!” he said. “It’s coming!”
A roar confirmed his fears, and Jael quickly set the lantern aside, grasping both of Tanis’s wrists and bracing her feet firmly. Tanis trusted her grip, giving her his entire weight as his feet shoved desperately upward, and then he was rolling away from the opening even as a razor-tipped claw sliced through the air where he had just been. Jael rolled away also, just in time, for the hatchling thrust a forepaw actually up and into the opening. Without thinking, Jael drew her dagger and slashed blindly, and the hatchling screamed as the severed paw flew free of the spouting limb.
Now Jael could hear other hatchlings gathering below, the pungent scent of dragon almost burning in her nose, even over the metallic stench of dragon’s blood from the severed limb. She kicked the repulsive remnant down through the opening and crawled over to join Tanis. He helped her to her feet and took the
lantern.
“Better lead the way,” he told her. “If the stone between the upper passages and the lower ones is as thin in other spots as it was there, we might fall through.”
His warning was a good one. Jael hugged the wall, maintaining a constant light touch on the stone, and several times she had to warn Tanis away from solid-looking spots on the floor where in actuality the mud covered only the thinnest layer of stone. Several times she considered making a new opening to the lower level of caves, but each time she began, she immediately sensed dragons below, and wondered if they weren’t somehow tracking Jael and Tanis even through the stone dividing the levels.
At last Jael stopped, shaking her head.
“Wait,” she said. “This isn’t working. I thought we could get past the nests or the hatchlings, but they’re following us. Either that, or there’re more dragons and hatchlings in this hill than we thought.”
“So what can we do?” Tanis asked slowly. “Is there a way out from up here?”
Jael shook her head again.
“I’ll have to make one,” she said. “This is the best spot I can feel anywhere nearby, and it’s still pretty thick. It’s going to take some work.”
Tanis squinted at her through the darkness.
“The Bluebright hasn’t worn off yet?”
“It’s not the Bluebright anymore.” Jael grinned, touching the pendant. “It’s this. It’s not going away. I came looking for a cure, and I found it.”
“It isn’t going to do you much good if you end up in a dragon’s belly,” Tanis said practically. “Can you get us out of here before every dragon in the place gets stirred up?”
“I’ll try,” Jael said, focusing on the stone. It was terribly thick, and opening it would be complicated—she could sense weak places she’d have to work her way around, or else the weight of stone over the opening would give way on top of them. It was a frightening prospect, and Jael was painfully reminded that although she had the power to mold stone to her will, she had little experience using that power.
Grimly Jael set her hands and mind against the stone. She sank deep into stone, parting layer by layer. Twice she had to stop and reroute her efforts as stresses changed, weakening the walls she made. Once she leaped backward as the ceiling of her tunnel cracked and crumbled. By the time she smelled the fresh night air, it seemed that the entire night had passed, although Jael doubted it had been more than an hour since she’d begun. Trembling with the effort, she cautiously widened the opening, then peered outside.
“Is it all right?” Tanis murmured. “Where are we?”
“East side of the hill, high up,” Jael answered, grimacing. “We’ll have to climb down, and quietly, too.”
“By Baaros’s purse, I think I could fly down to be out of here,” Tanis breathed relievedly. “Go on, hurry.”
Jael was no less pleased than Tanis to be out of the cave, although the sensation of stone surrounding her had been almost comforting. She squeezed out through the opening she’d made, taking another look around before she accepted the lantern and helped Tanis out.
They had come out of a solid vertical rock face high on the east side of the hill, as Jael had indicated. Because of the numerous caves on that side of the hill, Jael and Tanis quickly decided it would be safer to work their way to the south side of the hill and then descend, rather than risking rocks falling or other noise near the cave entrances. The south face, as well, sloped more gradually and would be easier climbing in the darkness; Tanis, of course, needed the lantern to see his footing despite the moonlight, and they had the sack containing the Book of Whispering Serpents and the other items they’d picked up inside the cave.
Only partway down the slope, however, Jael heard roaring from the east face of the hill. Jael and Tanis exchanged glances, then silently redoubled their efforts, proceeding at an almost reckless pace. They were nearly to the bottom when the roar came again, this time from overhead. Sunlight or not, these dragons were angry or hungry enough to fly!
Jael drew her sword, but she was already running. Tanis, burdened with his own sword, the sack over his shoulder, and the lantern, was able to keep up only because of his longer legs. Suddenly it seemed much farther from the hill to the trees than it had been when they were traveling in the opposite direction.
The stink of sulfur suddenly filled the air, and before conscious thought could form in Jael’s mind, she was leaping sideways with all her might, knocking Tanis off his feet so they both flew some distance before landing awkwardly. Even before they both slammed into the dirt, fire seared through the darkness, charring the earth where they had been.
Tanis took the fall better than Jael did, rolling and coming up ready, not even shattering the lantern, while Jael not only had to regain her footing but pick her sword back up as well; the dragon, however, was far too large and heavy to stop or turn so quickly and overshot them. But there was a second dragon in the air now, approaching from the north.
“Split and meet at the ponies!” Tanis shouted, dropping the lantern and darting off to the right. Jael did not waste breath on a reply, but turned left into the first thin growth of trees. They’d have to be well into the forest before they’d be safe; the dragons could simply plow through the thin growth, although burning through the thicker forest would be slower.
To Jael’s surprise, the simple trick worked; as soon as she felt safe in stopping to regain her breath, she realized there was no sign that any dragon had even tried to follow her. Of course—the dragons, who hunted by day because of their poor night vision, would have been following the bobbing lantern, and once Tanis dropped the lantern, the two small figures would be difficult to track, especially in the forest. But how would Tanis find his way to the ponies without the lantern? He couldn’t see in the dark, either.
Jael cut straight west through the woods, listening. Tanis was not hard to locate as he crashed through the undergrowth as clumsily as a newborn fawn. They’d both long since sweated and rubbed off the coating of liniment, and Jael could smell his sweat and his fear—surely the dragons could, too.
Even as Jael hurried through the forest, she marveled at how quietly and easily she ran, not tripping over fallen branches or smacking into tree trunks, her mind clear and her senses sharp. It suddenly occurred to her why Tanis had suggested separating—it was to protect her. He knew she could see in the faint moonlight trickling through the trees and would quickly make it to safety while the dragons tracked his own clumsy noise.
There was Tanis ahead, cowering behind a tree and clutching his side as he panted heavily. He neither saw nor heard Jael approaching over his own harsh breathing, and he jumped when Jael touched his shoulder.
“It’s all right,” Jael murmured. “It’s just me. Are you hurt?”
Tanis shook his head.
“Just can’t—get my breath,” he gasped.
“Put your arm around me,” Jael said, sliding her sword and his back into their scabbards and looping his arm over her shoulders. “You ran past the ponies. We’ll have to keep moving. I can hear the dragons flying over, and if they can spot exactly where we are, their fire can reach us.”
She half-expected Tanis to make some ridiculous suggestion about leaving him behind so she could get away faster, but thankfully Tanis either loved life too much to suggest such a thing or was intelligent enough to realize that Jael would never obey. It was, as Jael had said, only a short distance to the place where the ponies were tied. The animals were frightened by the smell and sound of dragons overhead, dancing nervously and pulling at their ropes, the whites of their eyes showing.
Jael helped Tanis onto one of the ponies, but she didn’t bother with the knots on the lead ropes, cutting through the ropes with a single slash of her dagger. With all four lead ropes in her hand, Jael trotted through the trees as quickly as she could, staying as near the edge of the forest as she dared.
A dragon roared overhead, and briefly the sky was lit by flame. Jael swore and moved a little deep
er into the Singing Forest with the ponies. There was nothing for it—they were going to have to find somewhere to shelter and wait for the dragons to calm down again and go back to their nests. But the tenacity of a dragon on the track of its prey was legendary.
“They’re just flying over the trees, pacing us,” Tanis called. “We’re going to have to go in deeper, where the trees are taller. Right now we’re just circling the edge of their territory. Maybe if we head into the forest, directly away, they won’t be willing to leave their young so far behind.”
Jael paused, listening for the dragons. Yes, they were still overhead, at least two of them and maybe more, forming wide circles. Any moment they’d be flaming the trees. Jael was wary of the curse of the Singing Forest—the legends about skinshifters had been true enough, hadn’t they?—but whatever mysterious danger the Singing Forest might hide, Jael was all too certain about the threat posed by the very solid presence of the dragons overhead. Tanis was right; going deeper into the forest was the only option.
Jael turned southwest—remarkable how easily she could tell which way to go without becoming confused—and headed directly into the forest. As the growth of trees became thicker, the trees shot up taller, competing for the sunlight. Gradually, the sounds of the circling dragons faded. Jael hoped that meant that Tanis was right, that the dragons simply didn’t want to leave their hatchlings too far behind, and not that the dragons would rather give up their prey—even prey that threatened their hatchlings—than risk the danger of the Singing Forest.
As they hurried deeper into the forest, the faint moonlight was slowly choked out by the thick growth overhead. The familiar night sounds, however, reassured Jael; if the birds and tree frogs and insects found the Singing Forest a suitable place to live, maybe it wouldn’t be too inimical to a pair of innocent passersby who wanted nothing more than to be gone from the entire area. Jael saw several convenient spots where they might make a camp, but did not stop until she had neither heard nor smelled dragons for some time. At last she tied the ponies at a thick cluster of bushes, and Tanis helped her drag the bedrolls into the undergrowth. There was no thought of a fire or even of supper; the two crawled shaking into one bedroll and heaped all the covers over them, clinging together in the darkness.
Dagger's Point (Shadow series) Page 22