by Tara West
Ryne stopped for breath, wiping a bead of sweat off his brow and turning to the others. Ven was still not well, alternating between moaning and heaving.
Alec, who’d brought up the rear with his bow in hand, looked at Ven’s trail of vomit, eyeing it with a scowl. “Do giants have a good sense of smell?” he asked Ryne.
Ryne shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of, not when their noses are so far from the ground.”
“Good thing we are not running from dwarves,” the boy, Des, said with a sideways grin.
Alec peered at the boy, his pale brow furrowing. “This is not a time for jests. That giant could have killed us all.”
Des nodded solemnly. Alec ruffled his dark mop of hair.
Their tender moment only served as a reminder that they needed to put more distance between themselves and the giant. Alec had to find a safe haven for his people before the glacier melted and all of Adolan was underwater. Ryne’s kingdom was relying on him to find safety for their people as well. Sudden booming sounds unnerved Alec to the marrow of his bones. It was a giant to be sure, perhaps more than one, and they were running toward them.
“Move!” Ryne commanded.
Ryne hacked feverishly through the moss as Alec and the others followed swiftly. As the booming drew closer, shaking the ground beneath his feet. Alec’s heart thumped against his chest even harder than before and nervousness made him itch. Any moment and the giants would be upon them.
And then what? How could a small party of mortals and two dogs defend themselves against giants? If they didn’t find a means of escape, they were all doomed.
* * *
“We must find a place to land.”
Dianna shielded her eyes from the wind and sand that pelted her and peered over Lydra’s back. Nowhere in this cursed desert was there a good place to land, but she could tell by the arrhythmic flapping of Lydra’s wings that the dragon needed rest and water. They had been flying for weeks with little sleep or nourishment, because Dianna was anxious to be far away from the vengeful goddess, Madhea.
Dianna and her dragon had flown across great mountains and valleys, then farther still over a limitless sea. When they’d reached the shoreline, Dianna and Lydra had had little time to find water or food before the villagers, armed with spears and bows, had driven them into the desert.
Dianna smoothed her hand across the dragon’s cracked scales. Flakes of iridescent hide broke apart in her fingers. This was not good. Lydra was an ice dragon. She thrived in cool air, but there was not so much as a breeze in this parched wasteland. They would be lucky to find a small stream in the never-ending sea of dust, much less a body of water large enough to quench her dragon’s thirst.
She fumbled for the stone in her pocket, gliding her fingers across its even surface. This magical stone, that her brother Markus had given her, encased the spirit of her ancestor, a woman named Sindri, who could speak to Dianna through it. She’d guided Dianna and her dragon to the Shifting Sands, but Dianna worried the stone was a trick, mayhap an enchanted rock planted by Madhea to fool Dianna into coming to this cursed wasteland. Even more suspicious was that Sindri had been silent the past several days. She usually spoke to Dianna in thought whenever she rubbed the stone. Where had Sindri gone, and why would she abandon Dianna in her time of need?
She leaned over and patted Lydra’s side, alarmed as more bits of scale flaked off. “Forget landing,” she called against the wind. “We must find you water.”
The dragon grunted her understanding and continued the slow flap of her wings. Dianna hoped they would find water soon. She did not know how much longer Lydra could withstand the heat.
Chapter Two
“You should be ashamed of yerself for shootin’ an innocent wee lass!”
Alec’s mouth hung open as he looked down at the irate dwarf, whose flushed rounded cheeks and bulbous nose resembled three overripe apples. The little man squinted at Alec from beneath bushy graying brows and pointed a finger at his chest.
Alec held out his hands and backed up, glancing at Ven, who was lying supine on the litter, flanked by his two kinsmen, whose spears were poised at the giant. This was not good. Alec had heard tales of giants taking out entire villages. These ice dwellers wouldn’t stand a chance.
Though Ven had stopped heaving, his blue-tinted skin was a pale shade of sickly green. Alec turned back to the dwarf, hating the pleading tone that slipped into his voice. “I’m sorry, but she would have killed our companion.”
“My pearl?” The dwarf gasped. “Hogwash!” He squinted at Alec again and waved a fist at the crying giant. “Look at what you done to her arm!”
The beast sat on her haunches, leaning against a pine and clutching her injury. The light from the full moon made her ruddy cheeks glow like twin suns. She sniffled loudly, long, sticky pendulums of snot hanging from her nose.
Alec repressed a shudder as she dragged the back of one hand across her nose and then flung the snot all over the forest floor. Collective swearing ensued as everyone in the party got slimed. Bits of goo was slung across Alec’s boots, and several large chunks pelted the dogs’ fur. The dogs whimpered before shaking. Ryne and the other hunters swore again when they were sprayed with more goo.
“Ew! Giant boogies!” Des squealed, pulling a tendril of snot from a wild, dark lock of his hair.
Alec stifled a groan. “Look at my friend. He still cannot walk!”
Alec pointed to poor Ven, who had been slimed with a majority of the giant’s boogers, so much in fact that the stuff coated him in a clear cocoon, making Ven look like the larvae of a bug. He was leaning over the litter again, vomiting bile. His companions grumbled and cleaned slime off their spears.
“Serves him right.” The dwarf chuckled, seemingly heedless of the clumps of snot clinging to his matted beard. Then his laughter died, and his smile thinned. Storm clouds brewing in the depths of his eyes, he pointed a finger at Ven. “How long was he alone with my daughter? Did he violate my pearl?”
“What? No!” Alec shrieked.
Beside him, Ryne grumbled louder, his blue cheeks turning violet.
The dwarf bridged the short distance between them and puffed up his chest, glaring up at Alec with a look so earnest, it could only be described as comical. “How can I trust you?”
“Because your pearl is a beast!” Ryne’s hands were clenched by his sides while he scowled down at the dwarf.
The dwarf turned to Ryne and jutted one leg forward, raising stubby arms. “You ugly blue gnaz! You dare insult my child?”
Behind them, the giant sniffled loudly. “Gorpat not beast. Gorpat friend. Friend play.”
Alec watched with a mix of pity and awe as the girl’s huge mouth turned a pout. Alec instinctively ducked when she lifted the hem of her dress and blew her nose into the fabric.
The dwarf beamed up at his daughter. “You want to play, my pearl?” He waved at Ryne. “Play with this young man.”
Ryne had only a moment to gasp before the beast jumped to her feet and excitedly scooped him up.
“Oh, no!” Ryne screamed and pounded on her finger. “Put me down!”
“What’s that?” The dwarf leaned forward and put a hand to his ear. “Play harder?”
Gorpat smiled down at her father before tossing Ryne into the air. He spun like a lifeless rag doll, nearly hitting the ground before she caught him by the legs and spun him again.
The dwarf turned his scowl on Ryne’s companions when they raised their spears. “Put those down, you fools. Your puny spears will only anger my pearl.”
Alec held up a staying hand, “He’s right. Lower your weapons. We don’t want her dropping Ryne.”
Luc and Filip reluctantly lowered their spears, but Tar refused to back down. The dog ran to the giant, barking and nipping at her massive bare toes. The beast frowned at Tar and tried to stomp him, but the dog proved too fast. He continued skirting the giant, nipping and barking. Ryne struggled in her grasp while she was distracted with Tar.
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br /> Alec scowled at the chuckling dwarf. “Please stop this,” he implored. “She will kill him.”
The dwarf gave Alec a sideways look. “Serves him right for calling my daughter a beast.”
“I’m sure he did not mean it,” Alec lied, desperate to free his friend.
The dwarf laughed. “I’m sure he did.”
Alec squared his shoulders, determined to make the dwarf listen to reason. “If my friend dies, your daughter is a murderer. Then she will certainly be labeled a beast, sir. Is that what you want?”
The dwarf’s eyes widened. “Very well.” He crossed his arms, looking like a petulant child. “Gorpat! Hold the boy.”
“Yah, Dada,” she said, gazing at the dangling, cursing Ryne.
Ryne had managed to dislodge a blade from his boot, and Alec feared the giant’s retaliation would be deadly if his friend attacked.
The dwarf cupped his hands around his mouth, hollering up at Ryne. “Are you prepared to apologize to my pearl?”
“Beast!” Ryne wailed, and Gorpat flicked the blade out of Ryne’s hands.
The dwarf flashed Alec what appeared to be a cross between a smirk and a grimace, and hollered again. “Play, Gorpat.”
The monster giggled and tossed a screaming Ryne back into the air. Tar continued to bark, and Brendle cried, his bony limbs trembling as he tried to hide behind Des’s legs.
Des fell to his knees, tears streaming down his dirt-stained cheeks. “Please, sir,” he turned imploring eyes to the dwarf, hands clasped in a prayer pose. “Don’t let her kill him.”
The dwarf gaped at Des, who was at eye-level with the dwarf while on his knees. The dwarf grumbled, the coarse curtain of his moustache falling around his mouth. “Gorpat!” he finally called. “Put him down.”
When the giant fell back on her haunches, Alec nearly toppled as the ground bucked beneath his feet. She unceremoniously dropped Ryne on his back, and Tar raced to his side to lick his face, once a luminescent blue and now a sickly white. Ryne turned over on his side, moaning and bringing his knees to his chest.
“You are lucky I have a soft spot for children.” The dwarf chuckled and patted Des on the shoulder.
When Des jumped to his feet, Alec grabbed his arm, pulling him to his side while Luc and Filip sat Ryne up and examined him for injuries.
Des looked at Alec with a trembling lip. “Is Ryne going to die?”
Alec solemnly shook his head before wiping a stray tear off the boy’s cheek. “He’ll survive. Ryne is strong.”
The dwarf scowled at Des and Alec. “You are too young to be his father.”
Des stiffened, turning up his chin. “My parents are dead. Alec takes care of me now.”
The dwarf’s eyes lit up. “My Gorpat was orphaned when she was a wee tot. Poor baby would have starved if I hadn’t taken her in.”
Alec had to bite his tongue. He didn’t think a ‘wee tot’ giant would be hungry for long. She’d probably been the size of a snow bear and could easily crush a full-grown stag in her grip.
“Looking back on that night,” the dwarf continued, beaming up at his child, “I don’t think it was me who saved her. No, she saved me. My life was dull and gray before my pearl found me. I thank the Elements for each day we have together.”
The giant sniffled, then scooped her father into her arms, cradling him as gently as if he was a fragile, newly hatched chick. “Gorpat love Dada.”
The dwarf frowned at Ryne, who was still crouched in a fetal position, clutching his stomach and moaning. “She wouldn’t intentionally hurt no one.” He patted his daughter’s grimy finger. “She’s a lamb, not a beast.”
Again, Alec had to bite his tongue as Ven vomited into the grass. Though Alec desperately wanted to contradict the dwarf, he preferred that his supper remain in his stomach.
* * *
Dianna squinted into the setting sun, breath hitched as she gaped at the towering wall of what appeared to be an ashy cloud, swallowing all sight and sound as it swept over the barren landscape. It had materialized so suddenly, she barely had time to comprehend their perilous situation.
“Turn, Lydra!” she hollered, hunching over the dragon’s neck and clutching her scales as Lydra spun mid-air with a grunt.
Dianna’s heart quickened as she looked over her shoulder at the wall of sand that barreled toward them with alarming speed. Lydra whimpered, beating against the air as if each slow flap of her wings pulled them backward in time. Dianna’s heart slammed against her chest when she realized it would do no good to try to flee the storm. She pointed at a cluster of sand dunes that looked like a pattern of jagged waves upon the sea.
“Land there!” she yelled.
The dunes hardly served as a shelter, but they would have to do. Lydra could not outpace the storm, and Dianna feared they would be swallowed by the tempest.
Lydra grunted her understanding, then dove for the ground, crashing with a hard tumble before smashing into the peak of a soft dune. Dianna screamed as she was thrown from the dragon’s back, landing on her stomach and choking on a mouthful of sand.
Lydra scooped Dianna into the crook of her wing, shielding her from the sandstorm. Debris pinged off her scales, and the deafening wind roared around them. Dianna couldn’t contain her tears as she cupped Lydra’s jowls. The dragon’s glowing red eyes dulled like the wick of a candle that had receded until there was naught left but a pool of hot wax and a flickering ember. Dianna felt Lydra’s life force slipping away, and she knew it would be a miracle if her dragon managed to survive this storm.
* * *
With Ryne too sick to stand, Alec had taken control of their party, dictating where to set up camp. After they found a clearing alongside the shallow bank of a wide stream, much to their dismay, they discovered the dwarf had chosen to set up camp beside them. Though the ice dwellers grumbled and swore, nobody was brave enough to send the father and his monster child away. Alec sent up a silent prayer to the Elements that the giant wasn’t a fitful sleeper. He had no desire to be crushed in his sleep.
When the dwarf unpacked a sack full of sweetmeats and tarts, slipping two berry tarts to Des, Alec decided their party could tolerate one night with their unwelcome visitors. Even Tar had forgiven the father for his daughter’s transgressions, leaving the side of his sick master to drool at the dwarf’s feet. The dwarf slipped a bone into the dog’s mouth, then shooed him away. Tar happily trotted off, tail spinning like a cyclone before he perched on a secluded rock overlooking the camp. Seeing Tar rewarded with food, Brendle discovered his courage, slinking up to the dwarf with his bushy black tail tucked between his legs. After he, too, was rewarded with a bone, he crept into the night, disappearing behind thick bushes.
Luc and Filip checked on their friends one last time, then warily eyed the giant before tucking into their bedrolls.
Alec sat cross-legged beside Des, slanting a sideways smile as the boy greedily ate his pies.
The giant grunted and rolled on her side facing their campfire, yawning and then expelling a hot, rancid breath that blew embers on Alec’s bedroll.
Scowling, Alec hurried to put out the sparks, realizing he wouldn’t be sleeping this night.
The dwarf sat on a log beside the fire, his back to his daughter, seemingly unnerved by the whistling sound coming from her nose or the gusts from her blubbering snoring that whipped the hood of his furry cape against the back of his skull.
He leveled a pointed stare at Alec, his beady orbs assessing, as if he was trying to measure his worth. “So what is a party of ice dwellers doing so far south?”
Alec arched a brow. “You know of the ice dwellers?”
The dwarf slipped a flask from his leather vest and took a long drink. “I know many things.” He grimaced as if he’d swallowed pig swill, then corked the flask and wiped his glistening beard with the back of his hand.
Alec straightened. Perhaps the dwarf would be able to help. “We are searching for the cause of the melting glacier.”
“Hmph.” The dwarf crossed his arms over a barrel chest. “Eighty summers I have lived on this earth, and with each spring thaw, the river’s path widens.”
“We know,” Alec said wryly. Hence the reason they were on this quest.
“You think a party of insolent lads can stop it?” The dwarf waved at the ice dwellers, who were glaring at him and his daughter from under their furs.
“We cannot stop it if we don’t at least try to understand its cause.”
“I can tell you the cause.” The dwarf leaned back, crossing stubby legs at the ankles. “Madhea’s power is waning while her sister’s power grows.”
Alec gaped at the dwarf, feeling like an insignificant river mite whose hill of pine needles and clay had been swept away by a raging flood. That was all he and his people were to the goddesses—mites, easily overlooked while swept away in the tempest of their foolish warring. Though his brother, Markus, had told him of Madhea’s cruelty, Ryne had said her sister the sea goddess was even more vengeful, having washed away entire seaside villages with monster waves if even one villager displeased her.
“How do you know this?” Alec asked.
“As I’ve said.” The dwarf chuckled before tossing his flask over the fire into Alec’s lap. “I know many things.” He nodded to Des, who was licking sticky sugar off his fingers. “You and the boy aren’t ice dwellers. Why help them?”
Alec looked at the leathery bottle. Even though it had been capped, the smell from the flask was strong, hitting Alec like the time his father had smacked his nose with the flat side of a shovel. Though he was in no mood to partake of alcohol, he didn’t wish to offend his guest. He uncorked the flask and quickly swallowed a mouthful, nearly retching as the rancid, hot liquid burned a hole to his stomach.
He sputtered and coughed and finally managed to take a deep breath. “You ask many questions, sir,” he said with a wheeze as the fire raced back up his throat. He was suddenly struck by the notion that the dwarf’s potion had turned him into a fire-breathing dragon.