A Boat Made of Bone (The Chthonic Saga)

by Grotepas, Nicole

  She lifted the sword in both hands like a kamikaze samurai and focused on the soft indentation on the top of the dragon’s head. The cruel beast got Will’s head between its teeth. Will screamed. Kate charged without a word. As the sword sank into the soft flesh of the dragon’s head, she let out her war cry. It tore from her lungs and burst like a solar flare through the mist. The dragon’s wings flapped even as its jaw relaxed and released Will. Its great body settled with a thunderous boom.

  Silence.

  Will’s breathing came in ragged pants. Kate shook the tears from her face and released the sword and pushed the dragon’s heavy, lifeless head off him with her entire body. Blood oozed down Will’s face.

  “Thanks,” he croaked with a quivering smile.

  “Oh Will,” she murmured. “This is my fault.” She fell to her knees.

  “It’s OK, I’m dead anyway, remember?”

  “You’re alive. That’s why it hurt,” she said, cradling his head in her lap. She wiped the blood away. “I’m—I’m so sorry. I didn’t want this to happen. I mean, who thought—” she struggled.

  Will closed his eyes and sighed. “Then this will be my second death. This one will be better than the first. The first I was alone and broken by a life full of regret. This time the love of my life—my second life—is at my side.” He opened his eyes and smiled. His cheeks were smudged with dirt. His hair was matted with dragon saliva.

  “No,” Kate said.

  “No? You—you don’t love me?”

  “No, you’re not dying. We’re not giving up. We can still get you out of here. There’s still hope, Will.”

  She laid his head down gently and pulled her shirt off to try to make a tourniquet or something. Her sports bra was soaked. How do I make strips? she wondered. At that moment, she remembered the pocket knife and small first aid kit she always kept in her pack.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, checking to make sure the wounds on his head weren’t too deep. Satisfied that they weren’t, she ran to retrieve her backpack. When she came back, Will was breathing in shallow heaves and his color had gone ashen.

  “Wake up,” she said, nudging him gently. His eyes fluttered open.

  “What are you doing?” he rasped.

  “Saving you. You saved me. I’m saving you, Will.” Kate flipped the blade open and began sawing through her shirt.

  “And you came to Chthonos to save me, but who’s keeping track? I think I’m a lost cause, Kate. Let’s just—let’s just face the music and not drag this out. For you. I—I’m sorry. I love you.” He struggled to sit up.

  “What are you doing? Don’t make it worse, Will. You’re losing a lot of blood, just let me get this around your head,” she said, pushing him gently back down by his shoulders.

  He sighed and settled back. Beneath her knees, the ground seared her. Sweat dripped from the tip of her nose and chin and ran in rivulets down her chest and back. She lifted his head and slipped the strip of cloth under it. From her first aid kit, she pulled out ointment and alcohol and cleaned the bleeding tears from the dragon’s teeth. She applied the antibacterial ointment and then tied the makeshift bandage on the side of his head so it didn’t dangle in his face.

  Then, carefully, she lifted his body to remove his chest-piece. He groaned and helped her as much as he could, seeming to lose consciousness as she worked on him. She poured alcohol on a section of her shirt and dabbed at the gaping, open wound through gritted teeth. The naked bone glared at her like an angry white eye. If she didn’t cauterize the arteries, he would bleed to death. She stood up and yanked the sword from the dragon’s head and fished the lighter out of her backpack. She knelt back down and flicked on the flame and held it under the tip of her sword until it burned the tip of her finger as she tested it.

  “This is going to hurt,” she whispered, to the unconscious Will and then she touched the tip of the sword to the mangled arteries.

  His eyes whipped open and he cried out as he sat up and tried to pull away from her.

  “It’s OK, it’s OK,” she cooed and put her free hand to his clammy forehead.

  He fell back with a heavy sigh.

  She cut a large square bandage from her shirt, doused it in alcohol, and laid it over the hole where his arm had been. She secured it on his chest and back with the first aid tape.

  There, she thought, good as new. Her lower lip trembled. Would it be enough? Would he last? Could they even go on?

  She confronted the fact that what she’d come all this way for was about to slip from her fingers. Failure. Loss. What was the point? Was this why she never let anyone in—like Tom, like Ty?—because she just lost them, in the end? It made her lose control. It made her vulnerable. She’d never gone so far out on a limb for someone and the irony of it was, the minute she did, a dragon ripped his arm off and he almost bled to death.

  Kate knew a tiny bit about first aid—a general she’d taken just for the hell of it—but she hardly knew whether or not a person could survive without an arm without immediate medical attention. And by medical attention, she didn’t mean first aid.

  She looked up, having forgotten for just a few seconds where she was. The mist had descended again. The dragon was dead and now cloaked by the white mist as though covered by a blanket. She didn’t even remember which direction the river lay and which direction she should be walking. Did it matter anymore? She should just sit there and wait for Cipher’s other minions to come claim her.

  “Kate,” Will said, pulling her from the little pity-party she had going.

  She leaned forward, attentive to him and relieved to hear his voice. “I’m here. What is it?”

  “Do you have any food?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Just a little bit. And that’s a good idea. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

  She helped him sit up and he ate a granola bar and washed it down with a gulp of her water. Kate noted that less than a cup of that precious liquid remained.

  “I think I can make it,” Will said as Kate helped him to his feet.

  “Good. You better. I didn’t come all this way to just let you die from a mere flesh wound,” she said.

  “Monty Python,” he said with a laugh. “Only the finer things, Kate.”

  “Exactly.” She shoved everything back into her pack, put it on, and picked up the sword. “We’re not leaving this.” She twisted the sword and held it up. It had saved them twice now—slaying the dragon and searing Will’s wound.

  “Agreed.” He scanned the dragon’s corpse, which was already beginning to decay beneath the clinging mist, and then his gaze fell upon his severed arm, about ten feet from the dragon’s outstretched wing. Will blinked and frowned.

  “Ignore it,” Kate growled. “You look better with just one anyway. I have a thing for one-armed men.”

  He smiled and looked at the ground, then back up at her with grateful eyes. “Thanks, Kate.”

  “Let’s go. This way, I think,” she slipped under his remaining arm and pointed with the sword.

  ***

  Kate led them across what seemed like a furrowed field in the mist. After the confrontation with the dragon and Will’s loss of his arm, Kate found herself fearless. She kept a hold of Will’s remaining hand—she was numb even to the gravity of that thought—with no lingering concern for her own safety, concentrating instead on getting Will off the god-forsaken planet. Her mind had sharpened and become hyper-alert. Her hiking boots sank into the dirt. The smell of sulphur struck at her nose, tiny punches of that foul, pervasive odor. Will’s fingertips were strangely cold against the back of her hand.

  Through the mist she made out strange, ghostly shapes and wondered if they were Cipher’s minions closing in on them, but nothing ever materialized.

  Light ahead began to force the mist away. Where was it coming from? she wondered. Will asked as much out loud.

  Suddenly the mist was completely gone and they were standing on the shore of the impossible. A lake of fire. And . . . possi
bly . . . brimstone. Kate laughed mirthlessly as the red and yellow liquid bubbled and seethed. Black islands of charred rock stood tall amidst the flame-colored lake. Some of them seemed to float, unmoored, across the surface.

  “What the hell?” Kate proclaimed.

  “Yes, odd. I guess there really is a lake of fire. For endless torment and such.” Will laughed, the sound as devoid of feeling as Kate’s had been.

  To add to the miserable prospect of crossing the lake, Kate heard the keening cry of a new dragon as it swept by overhead.

  “Shit,” she cursed, glancing up in time to see the glowing underbelly of the beast as it glided over the lake.

  “Leonardo planned for this, didn’t he?” Will asked, gazing up at the dragon with a lifeless expression. He seemed numb to the fact of yet another dragon.

  “Not precisely,” Kate said. “The way he explained it was ‘the white one is for the first obstacle, the red one is for the second obstacle,’ and such. And he really didn’t prepare me for a dragon. Another dragon. Like I can blame him. I brought myself here. Not Leonardo. Well, at least, not directly.”

  Will gave a sheepish frown. “Sorry about that. I should take the blame for this.”

  The dragon continued to circle above them. Kate peered up at it, squinting, trying to determine its size. Maybe there was a bright side to all this. Maybe it was the runt of the dragon litter. “Wait,” she said with a soft gasp. “There’s someone riding that dragon.”

  “Really? I didn’t see anyone,” Will answered. He rubbed his eyes and looked again.

  “Yeah, he’s wearing clothing the same color as the dragon’s hide. There’s definitely a guy on him.”

  “Oh, I see him now,” Will said.

  “Waiting here isn’t going to help. As much as I relish the idea of not taking a pleasure cruise across this lake, we better get going,” Kate said. She shrugged out of her pack and pulled out the red stone. It was about the size of a dinner plate, dense, and laced with veins of black.

  “Don’t tell me we’re going to skim over the surface on a salad plate?” Will said wryly.

  “Please. We both know this is at least a dinner plate.” Kate tossed it into the lake of fire.

  “We’ll need one at least the size of an extra-large pizza if we’re both going to fit on it,” he remarked, watching the flat stone sink into the lava. “Didn’t even float. Guess it’s broke?” He glanced at Kate.

  “Just wait. It might take a minute.” She found his hand and squeezed it.

  The hissing and bubbling of the lava increased and then something rose from the red froth. It was . . . a boat.

  “Another boat. Should have known,” Will said, shaking his head. “I would have settled for a hot air balloon, though.”

  The sides were tall and there was a sail in the middle. Despite the fact that the plate had been red, the thing was clear with a tint of blue, and seemed to be made of glass. Or ice. Please don’t be ice, Kate prayed, thinking of how stupid that would be of Leonardo. It was partially beached on the shore and halfway into the lake. Kate released Will’s hand and strode toward it and placed her palm on it as though she was opening a secured door with a handprint reader. Ice cold. But how? Somehow the boat didn’t melt. Near where Kate stood, there were steps carved into the side.

  “Well, get in, before our dragon and his rider decide this beach is ideal for a war,” Kate commanded, swinging around to get her pack and assist Will up the ladder. It would be hard for him with one arm.

  She stopped, her mouth dropping open. “Will,” she gasped.

  His head drooped in defeat and the knuckles of his sole hand touched the black talus of the shore.

  “Cipher must have heard that we killed one of his dragons,” Will said, his voice a rasp. He had changed. Kate wouldn’t have recognized him except for his blue eyes. They lifted from the ground and locked on her face. Kate’s heart thundered in her chest. It’s OK. It’ll be alright. She’d already seen this with Leonardo. No big deal. But it was . . . it was . . . hard. Hard to see him, armless and wounded, in the body of an ugly, lumpish creature.

  “Will,” she whispered.

  “I’m sorry, Kate,” he said. “I knew Cipher’s mood would change. It always does. At the worst possible times, it seems.”

  Kate laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “Really, is there any time that’s good to be, uh, like this?”

  “No, you’re right. It’s always a bad time.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said flippantly, waving a hand in dismissal. “Let’s go. The dragon seems to be getting bolder. I have no idea what they’re waiting for. Maybe they’ll get hungry and go back to Necropolis? Let’s hope.”

  She slung her pack onto her back and took Will’s hand, helping him up the ladder, and then she followed after him.

  She landed deep inside the boat, protected from the occasional whip of flame arcing up from the surface of the lava. Red and black brimstone stood still as waves of lava crashed around it, never melting, and seeming to be anchored, like icebergs or buoys in the sea. From her position inside, Kate could see through the clear sides of the boat and she steered the strange sailboat through the ravages of the lake. Will huddled in one corner, transfixed by the insane view through the boat of ice and glass.

  Above them, dragon and rider circled, screeching and diving at them as they sailed across the strange lake. The white and black striped sail caught gusts of steam and heat rising from the lake. Kate steered with a wheel, just like a pirate. If everything hadn’t been so dire and scary then she might have called out with appropriate terms like, “Avast ye mateys,” or “Land ho!” But land still wasn’t ho. She kept heading toward the dim sun, where it perpetually hung at two o’clock like Leonardo had instructed, hoping that at the end of their journey, there really was a mysterious way out for Will.

  Kate glanced over her shoulder at him. He sat with his legs pulled up against his chest. He stared at her with those blue eyes and she flashed him a reassuring smile.

  “Thank you for saving me from the dragon, Will,” she said.

  “It was selfish of me, but you’re welcome. I’ll pretend it was only for you,” he answered, giving her a sly grin. At least, she thought it was sly. It was hard to tell in that unrecognizable face. “So. Kate, back on Earth . . . are you—are you still dating that boy?” he asked, bringing up her real life.

  Kate shrugged. “Why? Strange time to be asking a question like that.”

  “Well, there hasn’t really been any downtime since you arrived. Been kind of busy. Just curious. I’m sure he’s better looking than me, at the moment.” He laughed, but it was full of self-loathing and a pang ricocheted through Kate’s chest.

  What could she say to soothe him? Anything? And what would the point be unless he could go back to Earth with her and live? When she looked at him, what she saw, now, wasn’t Will. It made a difference, a small one. But nevertheless, it was a difference.

  “I don’t know how long we’ll last, him and I,” she found herself confessing. “He’s great. But he’s . . .” she halted, hearing an approaching screech overhead and a gust of wind as the menacing dragon swooped down and then veered away from crashing into their boat. Kate swore. “They’re getting bolder.”

  “You were saying?” Will prompted, dismissing the dragon.

  “Um. I like Ty, Will. But he’s—he’s not you.” She didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. She wanted to pretend he looked as he had always looked in her dreams. Not because she only cared for his appearance, but because his appearance now was like nails tearing through her heart. His missing arm, his subjectivity to Cipher, his failing body. It hurt her. She found herself thinking all this, and then she whispered: “You’re the one I want, Will.”

  “Still?” he asked, sounding hopeful and surprised.

  She nodded. “You think I’m so shallow that I’d suddenly change my mind?” She glanced back at him.

  “Not shallow. Just—well, who could blame you for wanting a m
an, Kate? A real man? Not,” he looked down at his legs and hands, “this. Whatever it is. I don’t even know what to call it. Pond scum?”

  She snorted with laughter and winked at him. “More of a moss monster. But maybe I have a thing for moss monsters.”

  He laughed. “I’d say you’d have to have that.”

  Kate turned back to guiding their ship. It didn’t take too much effort. She only had to make sure she kept the sun straight ahead, and that they didn’t run into any brimstone-bergs. Keeping an eye on that blasted dragon and his rider was also a priority.

  She heard it before she saw it because she was carefully spinning the wheel to take them around a particularly large, jagged brimstone-berg. The circling dragon—which had only swooped at them once, never getting too close to the lake, for fear of one of the arcs of fire and lava—plummeted down at them and grabbed at the sail with its talons. The rider let out a demonic laugh as they shot back into the sky and a whip of flame snapped at them, nearly taking them down.

  “No!” Kate shrieked, laying hard into the wheel. She’d failed to keep them far enough away from the brimstone, startled by the proximity of the dragon and the damage to their sail. As she spun the rudder, sweat poured into her eyes. Her muscles burned. “Lean Will, lean!” She yelled. She didn’t know if he followed her urging. The boat surged along on a wave and through the clear side, she watched, eyes wide and her guts broiling like the frothy lava as they skimmed past the jagged edge of the brimstone. She heard it whistle as they coasted by.

  They broke free of it without wrecking and Kate slumped against the wheel.

  “That was close,” she said, wiping her brow and groaning. “Shit. The sail.”

  “Good steering, Kate,” Will said from behind her.

  “Tell me that when I fix the sail,” she said.

  “Can we patch it?”

  “Maybe, maybe,” she answered, remembering every resource at her disposal. There weren’t many. But she had the first-aid tape and just a few more clothes left in her pack. The dragon had made off with a piece of the sail. It was a small one, but still.