by Kyra Dune
There was no reason why a man who could transform himself into any creature he wished should need the help of anyone. Let alone two people with no skills that could possibly be of any use in finding and killing a dragon. There had to be something else, something he wasn’t telling them. Everyone lied and everyone wanted something from you. These were the only facts Micayta had and the only ones that mattered.
But she would fool him. She would use him and cast him aside before he could do the same to her. Her hand slipped around the hilt of her dagger. There was all the proof she needed about the nature of human beings.
She slid the dagger from its sheath and held it outside the blankets, ready to be used if needed. There would be no sleep for her this night. It was just as well, she had no desire to sleep anyway. Sleeping led to dreaming and the nightmare would wake her anyway, leaving her feeling more tired than she was before she tried to sleep. Besides, there was no black bird to watch over her tonight.
Chapter Eleven
Flames surrounded Micayta, rising higher and higher into the black sky. The heat was oppressive, weighing heavily against her chest so that every breath was a struggle. A shadowy figure moved beyond the flames. It was too swift and blurred for her to make out what it was.
She tried to retreat, only to find herself stepping perilously close to the fire. The dragon was near, she was sure of it. It was somewhere out there waiting for her to make the wrong move.
Micayta woke with a barely suppressed gasp. For a moment, she thought it was only the nightmare that had woken her. Until she heard the soft crunch of booted feet against brittle snow. Her hand tightened, but the dagger was no longer there. She bit back a curse as she realized it must have slipped from her hand as she slept.
It couldn’t have gone far and likely a quick search of the blankets would turn it up in a matter of seconds. But the footsteps were moving closer now and if their owner thought he was sneaking up on sleeping victims, Micayta didn’t want to disillusion him too quickly.
The footsteps drew closer still, until they were very near. Micayta jumped up, bringing her hand around in a right-handed punch that was intended to disorient whoever was behind her long enough for her to find her dagger.
Instead, her feet tangled in the blankets, giving the man with the curved dagger a chance to tackle her around the waist and drop her to the ground. His hand closed around the back of her neck. The cold steel of his dagger pressed against her cheek.
Effectively pinned by his weight on her back, Micayta was forced to use what little air she was getting to breathe with none to spare for a warning cry to her brother.
“Keep quiet,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. “We’re going to stand up, nice and easy, and if you so much as breathe loud I’ll make you wish you were dead.”
The pressure on Micayta’s lungs eased some as he slid off her back and onto his knees, but his hand at the back of her neck remained firm. He allowed her enough freedom of movement to get first on her hands and knees, then to her feet.
Micayta had every intention of doing a lot more than breathing loud. He’d kill her either way and there wasn’t a chance she was going to let him anywhere near her brother. But once she was on her feet she found there was no need to scream.
Tech stood between the two of them and Pytaki, all four legs braced, head lowered. He lifted his lips in a silent snarl, the hackles on the back of his neck standing up. In that moment there was very little humanity in his fierce gray eyes and even Micayta couldn’t help but feel a chill.
The man’s hand tightened on the back of Micayta’s neck. “Keep back, beast,” he held the blade at her throat, careful to keep her between himself and the wolf, “or you’ll cost this girl her life.”
Tech dropped into a crouch with his ears laid flat against his head. Micayta could feel the tremble in the man’s hands and hear the harsh rasp of his breath. Because of the way he was holding the back of her neck, his left arm was up almost level with his shoulder, which she judged put the back of her head about even with his nose.
Micayta slammed her head back, connecting with the slightly taller man’s nose and forcing his hand back against his throat, while simultaneously ramming her elbow into his exposed ribs and grabbing his right hand with her left.
With a half turn, she struck him across the side of the face with the fisted back of her hand hard enough to knock him off balance. She dropped to the ground and saw nothing but a blur of black fur as Tech leapt over her.
The man never even had a chance to make a sound before Tech had ripped out his throat, sending a spray of blood across the snow. Micayta winced, squeezing her eyes shut and turning her head from the grisly sight.
A moment later, there was a touch on her shoulder. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head and took a shuddering breath of the frigid air. “I’m okay.” She looked up to see Pytaki still curled up on his side. At least he didn’t have to know anything about this. She struggled to her feet despite her trembling legs, allowing Tech to take her hand to help her.
“It’s a good thing one of us stayed awake.” There was a hint of humor beneath the strain in his voice.
She met his laughing eyes. “I could have taken him without your help.”
He smiled, his hand lingering in hers. “I’m sure you could have.”
With a scowl, Micayta pulled her hand free. “I was taking care of myself long before I met you.” She turned her back and made her way over to the fallen man, gritting her teeth against the sudden roll in her stomach.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m not going to just leave him lying here.” She squatted beside the man and took a firm grip on his arm. “He might attract wolves.”
“I thought he already had.”
Micayta rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you hilarious?” She grunted as she tugged at the man and tried to pull him toward where the path fell off into open space. She managed to drag him halfway toward the edge before having to stop and take a breath.
Micayta glared down at the snow with her hands on her hips. “Are you just going to stand there grinning like an idiot?”
Still smiling, Tech joined her in her less than pleasant task. Between the two of them, they managed to drag the man close enough to the edge so they could push him over the side.
Micayta sighed, pushing loose strands of hair back from her face, before starting to smooth snow over the bloody path the man’s body had made.
Tech grabbed her arm. “Go and sit down before you collapse.”
She glared at him. “I’m not tired. Besides, I have to cover up the blood.”
“Why?”
“Because…,” she glanced at her sleeping brother, “because the wolves can smell it.” She flushed under Tech’s intense gaze. “Will you let me go?”
“If you promise to go and sit down under the blankets, I’ll let you go.”
“But the blood–”
“I’ll cover it up.”
It was the fact that she was tired from lack of sleep and cold that made her relent, not the soft warmth in his gray eyes. That’s what she told herself as she made her way back toward the blankets. Before settling in, she dug around until she found her dagger lying amidst the folds of the blankets.
Pytaki stirred, mumbling fitfully in his sleep. Micayta laid a hand against his cheek. “Shh, it’s okay.” He grew still under her touch and his body relaxed.
She sat down beside him and drew the blankets up around her shoulders. Clutching the dagger firmly in her hand, she leaned back against the side of the hill and watched Tech scatter fresh snow over the blood.
Chapter Twelve
Micayta sat on the blankets and pretended to eat a little fruit jam as she watched Tech making lazy circles in the gray morning sky. She’d fed the last of the bread to the horses and was trying to think of what they’d do if the animals died before they could reach Phadra. It wouldn’t be good if they had to trek through the snow with their supplies
strapped to their backs, even with Tech’s help.
“Are you okay?” Pytaki settled down next to her. “You look tired.”
“I’m fine.” Truth was, she hadn’t been able to go back to sleep last night even though Tech had stayed up. Instead, she spent the night listening to the sound of his footsteps as he prowled around their camp in wolf form.
“You didn’t wake me to keep watch.” He reached for the jar.
She handed it to him. “Tech and I had everything under control. There was no reason to wake you.”
“Oh.” He watched his fingers as he swirled them around in the jam. “Do you think we’ll make it to Phadra?”
“Either eat that or don’t, but stop playing with it,” she said. “Of course we’ll make it. You heard Tech. It’s not that far.”
Pytaki scooped some of the jam out on his fingers. “What about the horses? Are you sure they can make it?”
She followed his gaze to where the horses stood side by side. Her stomach growled, reminding her how long it had been since she’d had any real food. Meat was meat and her body wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, but one look at Pytaki’s face and she knew it was out of the question. There was no chance she could convince him to eat one of the horses. He might never forgive her for even making the suggestion.
She took the jar from his hands and stood, screwing the lid back on. “Don’t worry about the horses. They’re a lot stronger than we are.”
He smiled up at her as he licked the jam from his fingers. She dropped a hand briefly to his shoulder, and then walked over to put the half-full jar back into her saddlebag.
Tech swooped down, becoming a man as his feet touched the snow. “We should get going.”
Pytaki nodded and started to gather up the blankets. Micayta crouched beside his saddle, frowning. She’d intended to saddle both horses while he folded the blankets, but as she started to lift his she’d noticed something. His saddlebags were empty.
She looked inside. No jars of jam. They’d only brought a dozen jars with them when they left the abandoned farm so she expected to be low by now, but not this low. She’d been more careful than that.
“There’s only two and a half jars of jam left,” she said, rising to her feet.
“Two and a half?” Tech asked. “Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure. I can count.”
“How is that possible?”
Pytaki continued to try and fold the blanket he was holding even though it was as folded as it could get.
“Py, do you know anything about this?” Micayta asked.
He shook his head, shaggy hair falling across his face. “I guess we ate more than we thought, huh?”
Micayta took a step closer to him. “Pytaki, look at me.” He raised his head reluctantly to meet her gaze. “Don’t lie to me, little brother. What happened to the jam?”
Pytaki looked from her to Tech and back again. Tears sprang into his eyes. “Palo was hungry. What was I supposed to do?”
“Palo? Palo?” She took another step closer, hands clenching. “Who is Palo?”
Pytaki swallowed, shrugging his shoulders and looking at the ground. “My horse.”
“Your horse?” Micayta’s voice shook with barely controlled anger. “I told you we had to be careful with the food. I told you to only feed him a little. How much food did you give him?” She wanted to smack him, really, really smack him. Instead, she pressed her hands to the side of her head and ran her fingers back through her hair, leaving a stinging trail in their wake.
“I’m sorry, but he’s so little and he was carrying so much weight and I…. He’s a good horse.”
“A good horse?” She was beginning to rethink her earlier notion. “You’ve reached a new level of stupidity.”
Pytaki’s flush deepened from pink to crimson.
“Wait a minute,” Tech said. “He didn’t mean any harm, he’s only a–”
Micayta rounded on him. “You stay out of this.” She turned back to her brother, who looked as if he would like nothing better than to crawl into the earth and disappear. “I hope you don’t get hungry before we reach Phadra because you’ve given your entire share of food to Palo.”
Pytaki flinched, lowering his head until it was buried in the blanket. He muttered something, but his voice was too muffled for her to make out the words.
“Oh, would you stop crying? You’re such a child.”
“That’s enough,” Tech said. “You shouldn’t talk to your brother that way. You may come to regret it.”
“Don’t tell me how to talk to my brother,” Micayta snapped. A sudden wave of dizziness caught hold of her. She swayed slightly, pressing a hand to her forehead.
Tech’s angry frown melted into one of worry. “Micayta, you’re exhausted. You should sit down.”
He made a move toward her, but she held up her hand to forestall him. “I’m fine. We need to get moving.” She turned her back on them and set about saddling her horse. Once the last strap was in place she climbed into the saddle and turned the mare toward the path. She didn’t wait to see if Pytaki and Tech would follow.
Chapter Thirteen
There was enough light left to the day to show them the inside of a shallow cave with a fire pit in the center. Animal furs, earthenware jugs, and bones were scattered across the floor. Micayta preferred not to speculate on where these things might have come from as she made her way to the fire pit. It would be nice to be warm even if only for a single night.
“Don’t you find this a little…wrong?” Pytaki asked, looking around the cave. “I mean, we killed these men and now we’re going to sleep in their home. It seems wrong.”
Micayta struck her dagger against a flat rock to strike a spark against the pile of coals in the center of the pit. “What do you mean ‘we’? Tech and I killed those men. You did nothing. As usual.” She blew against the fledgling spark.
Pytaki flushed as he fumbled with the straps on his horse’s saddle. “Sorry.”
“There’s no reason we shouldn’t stay here,” Tech said. “Those men were evil. They would have killed us, or worse, for what little we have. Don’t mourn them.”
Pytaki nodded and let his saddle drop to the ground. He stroked Palo’s neck. “What are we going to feed the horses tonight?”
“Don’t you think you fed that horse enough?” Micayta asked.
Pytaki looked away from her and focused his attention on the horse.
Micayta sighed. Regret again. “Why don’t you look around the cave and see if you can find something they can eat. So long as we can’t.”
She fed the fire more coal, along with bits and pieces of cloth she found in a pile nearby while Pytaki scoured the cave for something the horses could eat.
“What about this?” He came back from the furthest corner of the cave carrying a shallow pot filled with small, yellow nuggets. “Do you think it’s edible?”
Micayta reached into the pot and lifted a handful of the nuggets. They were hard and stiff and looked as if they’d been in the pot a very long time. She shrugged. “I wouldn’t eat it, but you can try it on them if you want.”
Pytaki nodded and made his way over to the horses.
Tech stepped up beside the fire. “Why don’t you eat something?” He held a jar of jam toward Micayta.
“I’m not hungry.” She pushed the jar away.
Crouching beside her, Tech kept his voice low. “If you don’t eat something you won’t last much longer. What good will that do him?” He held the jar toward her again. “Eat.”
Micayta glanced at her brother, who was trying to coax Palo into eating from the pot. She took the jar.
“You’re welcome,” Tech said, standing.
With pursed lips, Micayta took the lid off the jar and dipped her fingers into the jam. As soon as the first bite was in her mouth her stomach cramped and made a hollow, gurgling sound. She blushed, looking into the fire rather than at Tech.
“I’ll go out and get some snow
to melt into water,” he said, picking up a discarded jug.
Micayta ate and as her stomach began to settle her mind turned the heat of the fire into the heat from her nightmares. The flames, the smoke, she shuddered, clamping the lid back down on the jar.
“Look, he’s eating.” Pytaki was holding the pot under Palo’s nose, beaming as the horse crunched noisily on the nuggets.
“Good job, Pytaki,” Tech said, carrying the jug over to the fire.
“Thanks.” His smile widened. “I was getting a little worried about him, but I think he’ll be okay. Won’t you boy?” He patted the horse between his eyes.
Micayta leaned away from the fire, the jam turning sour in her stomach. This raw, jagged kind of fear was a new thing for her and she didn’t like it in the least. It was as if all the air was pressing down on top of her head and none of it was getting into her lungs.
“I tell you what,” Tech said. “Why don’t you take first watch so your sister and I can get some sleep?”
“Really?”
Tech nodded. “It’s time you took your turn.”
“He can’t take watch.” Micayta stood abruptly, tipping the bucket of snow over in the process. “He wouldn’t know what he was doing.”
“I can handle it.” Pytaki’s brows dipped into a frown. “I’m not a child.”
She gave him a scathing look. “Really? Because you certainly act like one. And you,” she turned that look on Tech, “what gives you the right to suggest he take watch? I’m in charge here, not you. He doesn’t need you. I’ve been taking care of him for the last eleven years without any help, thank you very much.”
Tech gave her a flat, steady look. “You wandered out into the snow with no food, no horses, and no idea of where you were going. You walked us directly into an ambush, where you then proceeded to provoke armed men with little chance you could hope to defend yourself against them. You fell asleep on watch and almost got yourself killed. How does any of that qualify you for the role as leader?”