by Lori Dillon
She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. She'd just have to play along with their crazy game for now. Eventually they'd come back and let her go. After all, what harm could come from standing out in a field for a few hours? A few bug bites? Maybe a little sunburn? Nothing she couldn't survive. Right?
Or maybe not.
Deciding it probably wouldn't be in her best interests to still be here when or if they returned, Jill glanced overhead and wondered if she could shimmy up and flip her bound arms over the top of the stake. It was worth a try. She squeezed the post with her arms, braced her feet against the stake in an awkward pliè and pushed with her legs. She made it all of six inches before her feet slipped, the rough wood snagging at the white gown they'd made her wear as she skidded back down the post.
Great. Now on top of everything else, she was going to have splinters in both butt cheeks. What had she been thinking? Sure, Jill, climb a twelve-foot pole with your hands tied behind you. And do it backwards, no less. Like you could do it frontwards with booster rockets tied to your ass. It's not as if you're a prime candidate for Cirque de Soleil.
Okay, so scaling the pole like a monkey wasn't an option. What else could she do? One thing was certain, she was not about to sit and wait for…what? More crazy villagers? Or whatever those fanatical loons thought was coming to get her? No, thank you.
Think, Jill, think. What would MacGyver do in a situation like this? Of course, he'd have a stick of gum stuck up his sleeve and a paperclip in his shoe. She was strapped to a giant fence post wearing little more than a nightgown and a wilting crown of flowers. A lot of good they would do her.
Damn. Where was Lassie when you needed her?
Her only hope was either someone would come along and set her free—slim chance there—or she could untie herself.
Relax. Just breathe and relax. If she concentrated, she might be able to untie the knots by feel. She closed her eyes, visualizing the rope binding her wrists, and wiggled her fingers until they touched a knot. Her arms and shoulders burned from that little bit of effort. How was she ever going to manage to get the knot loose?
Calm down, Jill. One thing at a time. Think positive. You can do this.
She managed to wedge one fingertip under the knot, feeling her nail tear to the quick as she attempted to pry it loose. She concentrated harder, ignoring the pain in her arms and back. Yes! She felt some give in the rope. She was making progress. It was slow, but it was still progress. Unfortunately, at this rate it would be the middle of next week before she got herself loose.
Deep in concentration, at first she didn't notice the drumming sound in the distance.
The wind. It had to be the wind.
Still, her heart rate sped up as her fingers began a frantic dance with the stubborn knot.
Concentrate on the rope. Don't think about anything else but getting yourself untied.
Struggling with the bindings, she tried to shut out the whoosh-whoosh drawing closer.
Don't look up. Whatever you do, do not look up.
But she did, and the sight that met her eyes would have dropped her to her knees if she wasn't still firmly tied to the stake.
Calm down. It's just a bird. Some enormous bird making an awful lot of noise.
But as it drew nearer, she realized it was too big to be any kind of bird she'd ever seen.
Maybe it's a plane. Yeah, that's it. A plane…with big, flapping, bat-like wings.
Jill's stomach plummeted as the thing soared closer, any hopes it might be Superman coming to her rescue dashed when she saw the long, reptilian tail trailing behind it.
She couldn't believe what she was seeing. A giant, flying lizard swooped down through the clouds, heading straight for her.
Her mind screamed in silent denial as reality crashed in with a gut-churning jolt.
Holy shit! She really was being sacrificed to a dragon.
CHAPTER 3
Jill squeezed her eyes shut, desperate to block out the inconceivable sight of the creature soaring in the sky above her.
It's because of the tapestry. Yeah, that's it. This is a concussion-induced delusion triggered by hitting your head, then seeing the dragon tapestry. Please, please, let traumatic brain injury be the only problem I have to deal with right now.
A fierce wind kicked up around her. Startled, she opened her eyes. Fear kept them open.
The dragon circled above her like a mutant seagull, then coasted down, landing with more grace than she thought a giant flying lizard would have. It tucked its enormous wings close to its body and cocked its head to look at her.
Jill froze. She didn't dare twitch or breathe. A childish notion reasoned that if she stayed perfectly still, maybe the thing wouldn't see her.
The dragon crept forward on clawed feet and leaned in until its snout halted mere inches from her face. Its breath huffed hot and moist on her skin, the stench of burnt sulfur suffocating, and any hopes that she might go unnoticed plummeted to the ground with a nearly audible splat.
Giving up on the playing possum routine, Jill tugged in renewed desperation at the ropes.
A deep growl rumbled from the creature's throat and she ceased struggling.
All right, no need to make the thing angry.
The dragon shifted its head from side to side, as if at this close range it couldn't quite see her with both eyes at the same time. Scales of brown and rust shimmered in the sunlight, undulating across the muscles under its hide, while paler plates curved down its underbelly. Its golden eyes held her spellbound, the dark slit of its pupil reminding her of a cat's as it studied a cornered mouse, trying to decide not whether, but when, it would pounce.
Then the dragon blinked and shifted closer, jarring Jill out of her temporary enchantment. A whimper escaped her throat as the beast's snout began a slow descent down the length of her body, its nostrils flaring and puffing foul, gusty snorts.
Oh, my God. It's sniffing me!
When its nose reached her bare feet, it reversed direction, inching its way upward again, its warm breath fluttering the material of her gauzy gown against her thighs. As it rose higher, its muzzle bumped against her left breast before it stopped to look her in the eye once again. For an insane moment, she thought the thing grinned at her. Then it opened its massive jaws, revealing its teeth. Lots of long, sharp, pointy teeth.
Raw, pulse-stopping fear consumed her. Even if she weren't tied immobile to the stake, the sheer terror of what was happening held her paralyzed. She now knew exactly what the fly caught in the spider's web felt like. Desperate. Terrified. Helpless.
A long, forked tongue slithered out of its mouth. It stroked her neck, just below her ear, eerily reminiscent of a lover's kiss.
Oh God, now the thing is tasting me!
She wanted to scream, but no sound would come. She wanted to close her eyes against its penetrating stare, but she couldn't will them to shut.
Faint. Please, for the first time in my life, let me faint. Now.
She didn't want the last thing she saw on this earth to be the inside of a dragon's mouth.
The beast pulled back and she drew in a ragged breath, much to the appreciation of her air-starved lungs. Then its large body lumbered to the side, easing around behind her.
Panic gripped her chest, squeezing tight. She couldn't see it, had no idea what it was doing. Was it leaving? Or was it going to eat her from behind? Somehow, facing the monster head-on seemed better than not knowing what was coming.
Jill tried to stifle the hysteria threatening to make her thundering heart explode. She might not be able to see the dragon, but she could hear it, could feel its heated breath on her back.
She stiffened against the stake as she felt a tug on the ropes. What was it doing?
Something long and smooth slid between her wrists. Was it a claw? A tooth? Oh God, was it going to bite her hands off first and then eat the rest of her?
The rope around her wrists fell away.
She stood motionless, her hands
hanging limp as pins and needles shot up her arms, her fear-addled mind having difficulty grasping what just happened.
The dragon had cut her loose.
Then the creature's bulbous snout eased around the side and her sense of self-preservation kicked into high gear. Jill bolted.
She hiked the long skirt to her knees and ran for the woods. Her gasping breaths and the drumming of blood in her ears drowned out all other sound until the telltale whoosh-whoosh of the dragon's wings overrode all else. Without turning, Jill knew it was airborne again—and coming after her.
The trees. Just get into the woods and you can hide. It was too big to fly in after her, wasn't it?
She'd almost made it to the timberline when the creature crashed to the ground in front of her. Without breaking stride, Jill skidded and reversed direction, running as if the hounds of hell nipped at her heels. Hounds in the form of a twenty-foot dragon.
She dared a swift glance behind her. The creature took flight again, its scaled belly gliding bare inches from the ground. Her legs ached and her lungs threatened to burst from her chest. Oh, why hadn't she taken up jogging? She was in no condition for this. There was no way she could outrun the thing.
The beat of wings grew louder and the dragon's breath singed the back of her neck. She didn't need to look to know it was almost upon her. Was it even now taking aim to spit a bolt of fire at her and burn her to a crisp? Jill didn't want to find out.
She dodged to the left, then to the right, hoping its large size would hinder its ability to make quick maneuvers. Sure enough, the dragon whizzed past her, nearly knocking her down with the downdraft from its wings.
Jill continued to duck and sidestep in an effort to evade the beast. Running up one hill and down another, she dashed barefoot across the grassy terrain like a manic gazelle. Tiring, she knew her only hope was to make it to the woods. She changed direction again, praying her legs would hold out long enough to get her there.
An enraged roar ripped through the air and she braved a glance over her shoulder. She didn't have to be an animal psychologist to know the thing was pissed and its game of cat and mouse was over.
She focused on the trees. A few more yards and she would make it. Just a bit more—
Her feet slid out from under her.
Nooo! her mind screamed as she fell, sprawling in something wet and gooey. She couldn't tell what it was, but it was thick, dark and oozed between her fingers as she tried to push herself up. With her luck, she'd just fallen in a big pile of dragon shit.
A gust of wind whipped at her gunk-caked hair, slapping the slimy locks in her face. She rolled over to find the beast hovering above her, its broad wings flapping back and forth to keep its massive body airborne. One of its front claws, the sharp talons spread wide, reached for her. She tried to crab-crawl backwards, but her hands and feet found no purchase in the muck.
It was hopeless. She couldn't get away.
This is it. This is how I'm going to die.
The scream Jill had been holding inside ripped from her throat as the dragon grabbed her around the waist and took off into the sky.
She gripped a claw as she watched the ground slip further and further away, not sure if plummeting to her death would be preferable to whatever fate awaited her when the thing decided to land.
It tucked its wings, turning them into a stomach-rolling dive as it sliced through the clouds. She clutched the talon tighter and groaned. Then with one mighty sweep of its powerful wings, the beast soared up once again, leaving Jill's churning stomach somewhere in the vicinity of her feet before it leveled out, soaring on the breeze like a giant Chinese kite.
She shut her eyes against the icy wind battering her face until the dragon plummeted once again. Startled, her eyes shot open to discover they were heading straight for a rocky mountainside.
The dragon flapped its wings in a backward motion, coasting in toward a large, dark crack in the sheer rock face. Realization dawned on her frazzled mind. A cave.
It must be taking me to its—Oh, what did they call it?—lair. Yeah, that was it.
This was probably not a good thing.
The creature landed on the ledge, depositing her on the ground with a gentle touch at odds with the brute strength in its grip. The minute the dragon released her, she was on her feet and backing away, looking for any possible avenue of escape.
Stone walls surrounded her on both sides, the jagged, gray rock soaring high above her head. A brief glimpse behind her revealed the vast bowels of a cavern, too dark to see beyond what the fading sunlight could illuminate. Then there was Godzilla in the flesh crouched in front of her, blocking the mouth of the cave.
A low growl rumbled from the dragon as it lumbered toward her. Instinct for self-preservation backed her deeper into the dark inner recesses. This was so not good.
Please, please let there be a back door to this place.
The dragon continued to advance, its large body blocking out what little light there was. Reaching blindly around her, she groped for a hiding place. Could dragons see in the dark? Lord, she hoped not.
She bumped into something heavy, yet not quite solid. It shifted before slithering to the ground beside her. She shrieked and jumped away.
Oh, please don't let it be another dragon.
The beast in front of her roared, its deafening bellow reverberating off the stone walls. Then a bright light flared as fire shot out from its jaws, blinding her. Jill dropped to her knees in a protective crouch, covering her head with her hands as the flame shot over her, instantly heating the cool, damp air.
Long seconds ticked by. When she didn't feel her skin blister and peel from her body or smell the stench of singed hair, Jill raised her head. And her jaw dropped.
Dozens of torches embedded high in the stone walls illuminated the cave's interior with dancing light and shadows. She peeked at the dragon. It still crouched at the entrance, its scales shimmering in the torchlight, watching her. Waiting.
Okay. Why would a dragon need light?
Why, the better to see you so I can eat you, my dear.
Sure, dinner and candlelight—with her as the main course.
The burning torches hissed and somewhere deeper within the cave she heard the sound of trickling water. When the beast made no move to come after her, she rose on unsteady legs.
No quick moves, Jill. Slow and easy.
She'd taken only one step before the beast bolted up and snarled. Startled, Jill stumbled back, falling on her backside amid a mound of cold, shifting metal. Her heart settled in her throat as the dragon lunged at her. She scrambled to her feet and glanced around desperately for a weapon.
She didn't have far to look.
Swords, shields and lances littered the cave. A pile of small, linked metal rings lay in a jumbled heap at her feet. Was that a suit of mail armor she'd just tripped over? Leftovers, no doubt, from some poor, brave knight who tried to slay the dragon and got barbecued instead.
Grabbing the weapon closest at hand, Jill pointed a long sword at the dragon. It stopped, its eyes flaring bright, then frowned at her—or it would have, if it had eyebrows. She managed to hold the sword at chest level for all of five seconds before the weight forced her to lower the point to the ground.
"Damn, that's heavy."
The dragon advanced, a low rumbling growl issuing a dire warning if she ever heard one. Refusing to go down without a fight, Jill gripped the sword with both hands and aimed it at the creature's chest, determined to use it to keep from being lizard lunch if it killed her.
"Stay back or I swear I'll gut you like a biology class frog."
The dragon stopped and tilted its head, then huffed, snorting a tiny puff of smoke out of one nostril. Narrowing its golden eyes at her, the creature eased to its belly. With the sword firmly in her grip, Jill dared to take her eyes off it just long enough to glance around and get her bearings. She was amazed at what she found.
What in the world was this place? The cave was full o
f…stuff. Besides the medieval weapons, there were hides and tapestries, chests and trunks, bits of furniture piled with plates and goblets, and who knew what else. In the center of the chamber, branches lay stacked in a fire pit, waiting to be lit. Near it, a mound of furs formed an inviting bed to cushion some weary sleeper from the cold stone floor.
Why did a dragon have all these things? Unless…
Someone lived here. Someone human.
Taking a deep breath, Jill called out, "Hello. Anyone here?"
Her voice echoed, sounding pitiful and distant as it faded away into the darkness beyond the torchlight. No one answered. Guess nobody was home in the bat cave. Well, except for her and the mutant salamander with Ginsu knives for teeth.
Deciding to put some much needed space between them, she crept further into the cave.
A small chest caught her eye and she lifted the lid—and almost dropped the sword. A treasure of ancient gold coins and ornate jewels glittered up at her. Running her fingers through the riches, she whistled softly. A tiny fortune at her fingertips.
A quick glance at the dragon reassured her it hadn't moved. Feeling braver, she decided to move on in the hopes there was another way out. Removing a torch from the wall, Jill ventured deeper into the cave, dragging the heavy sword after her and hopefully leaving the Puff-the-very-real-dragon far, far behind.
The first chamber opened up into a large cavern, the flickering light revealing damp slate walls from the lightest gray to deep shades of green, blue-black and rust. Slabs of shattered rock covered the cave floor while jagged stones jutted high overhead, waiting to fall. The dangling shards looked like giant serpent's teeth and she couldn't shake the feeling she'd escaped the jaws of one monster only to be thrust into the gapping mouth of another.
She glanced over her shoulder, reassuring herself that the flesh-and-blood one was still where she left it. The plink-plink of dripping water once again beckoned to her from the back of the cave. Her tongue suddenly felt twice its size and her parched throat constricted, reminding her she'd had nothing to drink since this nightmare started this morning.