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Caveman Alien’s Trick

Page 17

by Calista Skye


  Gorgoz frowns. “Does it have such a thing?”

  Maretriok puts one finger to his mouth as if thinking deeply. “What if we attempt to ask it?”

  I have gotten my breath under control. I am still one step away from total panic. But even in my upset state, a few things are dawning on me. First, these guys aren’t talking to each other. They are talking to me, doing a good cop/bad cop routine that’s pretty transparent for someone who’s spent even ten minutes watching CSI: Miami. Second, they want something. Very badly. Third, they’re not talking right into my soul like Troga did. Fourth, they don’t have that field of terror that Troga and Berezar had around them that would make me feel their presence and an inexplicable fear when they were close, even if I couldn’t see them.

  I am afraid, of course. They are threatening me with torture and death. But the absolutely mindless fear Troga instilled in me is subsiding a little now.

  “Ask it?” Gorgoz scoffs. “It is an alien. Does it even speak?”

  “Let us try,” Zahak says and bends down, like you would to talk to a toddler.”

  His eyes are very, very yellow. “Small alien. Show me all the gold you have.”

  Ah. They need to build their hoards. Gold is the most important and valuable metal for them.

  “I don’t have any,” I manage.

  “It doesn’t have any,” Zahak informs the two others. “And I deem that to be true. I see no sacred shine anywhere on this alien.”

  “Ask it if it has silver,” Gorgoz instructs.

  Zahak focuses on me again. “Do you have silver?”

  “No.”

  “It has no silver.”

  “Does it have any metal?” Maretriok suggests.

  “Do you have any metal at all? Forged steel? Mined iron?”

  I’d have expected dragons to be more subtle than this. They must be totally desperate to build their hoards. In some ways, I have the upper hand here.

  “Why are you in human form?” It takes all the guts I have to ask, and I close my eyes, expecting a terrible reaction.

  “We like our form,” Zahak says and straightens up. “We have many of them. Why are you in human form, alien?”

  “Because I am human. But you three are not. You are dragons.”

  Gorgoz bends down. “Do you have any metal? Anything that has been made into something else?”

  I resist his piercing gaze. I’ve been around Rax’tar for days, and his eyes are more penetrating than this. “Why are you in human form? Are you exhausted after your voyage through space?”

  The three dragons look at each other. “The alien knows much. And we know little of it.”

  “Metal,” Gorgoz hisses into my face. I detect no scent from him.

  “You need hoards to do anything,” I make a quick guess. “You’re so exhausted now you can’t even change back to your dragon form.”

  They do give me the impression of being weak. I think any Earthling as starved as they are now wouldn’t be able to get out of bed. These guys here are the dragon equivalent of badly undernourished, not far from being unconscious.

  Gorgoz puts a sharp claw at my cheek, right under my eye. “Metal, or I pierce this ball of fluid.”

  I think fast. I don’t actually have any metal. I didn’t bring a knife, and everything on the Magic Mirror is wood and skins and rope made from plant fibers. “There is no metal on this planet.”

  The claw inches closer to my eye. “There is metal on every planet.”

  Yeah, I’m not too eager to lose an eye. “Must it be metal? Can’t it be anything that someone has made, putting a lot of work and care into it?”

  “Do you have such a thing?” Gorgoz asks softly.

  “It means its clothing,” Zahak suggests. “But that rag has not been made with care or lots of work. It’s worthless.”

  “The canoe,” I say, pointing. “The boat I came in.”

  Gorgoz bends down, grabs me by the loose dino skin of my dress, and drags me along with them as they march down to the shore.

  They stare at the Magic Mirror.

  “Some care went into this,” Zahak says.

  “But it’s all wood,” Maretriok complains. “And it’s so large. A heap of wood only suited for burning.”

  “And yet I sense something,” Gorgoz says and peers into the canoe. “Something of value.”

  He wades along the canoe and then picks something up from inside it. “Here it is.”

  It’s my map. He peers at it in the light from Yrf. “A magic thing, covered in markings.”

  He wades back ashore, much faster, then presses the map to his chest and closes his eyes. “This… this contains care and knowledge. More knowledge than in a simple iron knife. It was made with time and effort. Over days and days. Difficult effort. Yes! I can feel it strengthen me…”

  Zahak reaches out. “Let me have it.”

  Gorgoz snaps his teeth at the other dragonman, and Zahak retreats a little. Maretriok comes closer and tries to yank the map out of Gorgoz’s hand, but Gorgoz is faster. His hand shoots out, and the claws scratch the small scales on the other dragon’s face.

  Gorgoz keeps holding the map close to his chest, and the two others hover around him, having forgotten me.

  I tiptoe away from them, in the direction of the Magic Mirror.

  But after two steps, I freeze. The most astonishing thing is happening.

  Gorgoz is growing. Fast. And he’s changing in a fluid morphing of human limbs and features into something else entirely.

  The two other dragons stand back and watch, not so much in awe as in envy.

  There’s no sound when Gorgoz shifts into his dragon form. Because that is definitely what he’s doing. He has a long, flowing tail with barbs at the end, there’s a ridge of sharp blades going down his spine, wings are sprouting from his shoulder, he has four powerful, taloned legs, and his head is small, sleek and beautiful.

  He’s like a larger version of Troga, one with wings.

  I’m aware that I’m staring. The sheer beauty of that thing…

  In a flash I remember what Tamara told me – close one eye when you look at a dragon so it doesn’t hypnotize you with its constantly shifting colors.

  I hold one hand in front of my eye, and the beginning trance is gone.

  But the fear is back. And this is Troga level fear, with that urge to throw myself down and curl up and just weep.

  Gorgoz has reached his full size. He’s not huge. There are much larger dinos here on Xren. But he’s clearly more deadly than any of them because he has a conscious menace that no other creature here has, not even the dactyls.

  He raises himself up and unfolds his wings wide, like stretching after a long sleep.

  The only thing I want is to cower before him. I am entirely at his mercy.

  And isn’t it right, too? That this perfect creature can deal with me as it wants, kill me on a whim?

  No, that’s the dragon fear talking. It’s not rational.

  Little alien, Gorgoz says into my mind. You brought me the beginnings of a hoard.

  I freeze.

  But not voluntarily. The full-grown dragon focuses all his attention on me, and it holds me still. He’s not weak anymore. He’s a dragon with all his powers restored. I can feel how ancient he is. I suddenly know he has taken many, many lives. He wants me to know it. He wants me to know that he can’t be vanquished.

  My mind is paralyzed. No thoughts come to the forefront. I am all terror. All prey.

  I will not tell you what happens to those who resist me. You will experience it. My fire is hot, little alien. You shall know it before you pass.

  He’s furious. At me.

  I curl up on the ground and whimper. I want the fear to end.

  This is hopeless.

  I know I’m dead.

  And now I’m starting to long for it to be over.

  26

  - Rax’tar -

  I can’t find my way. The darkness makes it difficult to see where I am,
and all the identical seatrees confuse me. I thought I knew where I was going, but I keep bumping into shoals and seatrees that suddenly come out of the dark.

  It doesn’t help that I can’t concentrate. I keep thinking of all the mistakes I made with Phoebe. All the silly things I said and the stupid things I did. I can’t blame her at all for leaving.

  I should come to a stop and not risk making my way too far away from the Gate. I can wait for the morning to get brighter. But I’m not sure if it’s even midnight yet. I risk being too late to the Gate to see Phoebe and offer my help to take her home.

  I bump into yet another seatree that I don’t see before it’s too late. But at the same moment, I see something else

  The canoe!

  It looks like it’s floating right by an island, and if I hadn’t bumped into that seatree I would not have spotted it.

  I frantically paddle around two more obstacles, hissing bad words when I bump into both.

  Then I get a clear view of the island. There are many shadows on it.

  Where is Phoebe?

  An inexplicable dread fills me. I have never felt anything like it.

  Yes, I have.

  Recently, too. When the three dragons flew overhead, I had a similar sensation. It comes from deep in me, but also from the outside. As if something ancient in me responds to a signal from somewhere else.

  The dread grows in me. Has something happened to Phoebe?

  Then I see it.

  The dragon. And that is clearly what it is. At first it looks like a Big. An irox, but still not quite that. No, this is a far more dangerous creature. An irox is mindless by comparison. The mind of the dragon radiates out from it, a presence of pure menace.

  And Phoebe’s canoe is right there.

  I paddle as hard as I can towards the island with the dragon.

  My mind is reeling. It’s as if the dragon came into existence just now. I hadn’t sensed any danger until the dread hit me with full force.

  It is a dread that should repel me. But it attracts me, instead. Phoebe has to be there.

  The raft hits the beach, and I jump onto the sand and sprint towards the dragon, shimmering in the moonlight and dominating everything while it sends barbs of fear into me.

  I barely notice the sharp pain at my thigh and just keep running. There are more shadows, more creatures around the dragon.

  One is on the ground. Small and round.

  Phoebe.

  I want to cover her with my body.

  At the same moment, the echoes of something terrible hits me inside my mind. A horrific threat. It shakes me, even though it wasn’t directed at me. Something about fire. Burning. An image of living creatures being immolated in a blue blaze, burned alive.

  I stumble but manage to stay on my feet, sprinting towards the dragon.

  What will I do when I get there?

  The dagger!

  The wooden handle is warm and familiar in my hand as I draw it. It gives me a calmness. I am armed now.

  The dragon pulls its head back on its slender neck, as if about to pounce. Two larger shadows draw away to each side, leaving only Phoebe, curled up on the ground.

  For some reason, Juri’ex’s words from many days ago resonate in my head. Just another Big.

  Ah. What would I do if this were just another Big?

  I would plunge the dagger into its soft underbelly.

  I jump right over Phoebe’s form, hoping she’s still alive.

  I throw myself forwards at the dragon, holding the dagger out in front of me with both hands.

  I aim at the tiny crack between two scales then close my eyes.

  The dagger sinks in, but not smoothly. It’s like jamming it into a crack in a rock. It is then yanked from my grip as I crash into the dragon’s scaly body, as hard as the face of a cliff.

  I find myself looking up at the dragon. It’s not a gigantic Big, although it is considerably larger than me.

  Time freezes for a tiny moment while the dragon changes its focus to me.

  Slayer! resonates in my mind, an exclamation of the purest fury. You shall burn!

  It’s the first time in my life I can feel my brain tremble inside my skull. The dragon’s rage rattles me, both my body and my mind.

  The sun suddenly comes up, bathing the world in a blinding blue light. But no, it’s not the sun. It’s something that sets every tree on the island alight, as well as many seatrees beyond it. A breeze caresses my arm.

  The pressure in my mind is slightly alleviated, and I look up.

  The dragon twitches. Just once, but it’s such an uncontrolled movement that I wonder if I didn’t hurt that thing after all.

  It beats its mighty wings and takes to the air, and I can tell that its focus is no longer on me.

  I run to Phoebe.

  She’s sobbing into the sand. “Don’t burn me!”

  “I never will,” I say right into her ear, making sure my body is on top of her, shielding her from anything bad that could happen. “But I want to marry you.”

  Her sob is cut off like with a sword, and she opens her eyes. “Rax’tar?”

  I know we don’t have much time. We’ll be dead at any moment. But this I want said before that. “Phoebe. I love you. Will you marry me?”

  She just stares with red-rimmed eyes before she realizes that it is really me. “Yes, I will. But… how did you get here?”

  I hold her tight. I have no weapon. The dragon is so deadly I have never seen anything like it. Any moment now it will kill us. But that’s fine. I’m ready. I have Phoebe right here.

  I nuzzle her hair, drawing in her scent. It’s a glorious way to go.

  “Rax’tar,” she says under me. “My love. Look.”

  I follow her gaze. The dragon is in the air, beating its wings.

  But it’s an erratic movement, uncoordinated. Uncontrolled.

  Then the beast screams, and it is the worst experience I have ever had. It’s like all the anger and fear and panic in the world is condensed into a sound, a sound that has another part that is only in the mind.

  Phoebe clamps her hands over her ears, and I clamp mine over her hands until the scream subsides. The dragon isn’t done with whatever it’s doing, but I don’t care.

  “Look at me,” I command, and Phoebe obeys, looking me in the eyes.

  “I love you,” I say over the sound of another terrible scream, raising my voice to be heard. This is more important than anything the dragon does. “I always will. I am sorry that I locked you in the room. And that I took you away from your village.”

  Water is running from her eyes, but still she looks at me.

  “If you allow me, I will come to your tribe and live with you,” I continue. “Even if the men of your tribe will murder me.”

  There’s a great crash and a splash behind me. I don’t turn away from Phoebe, keeping her focused on me. I don’t think we need to pay that dragon any more attention. I also ignore the persistent pain in my thigh. “I would deserve that for what I did to you. But maybe you can convince them not to. I just want to be close to you. Forever.”

  The dragon screams again, but this time it’s all sound, nothing that resonates in my soul.

  “Me, too,” Phoebe says, glancing to the side. “But, my love…”

  “It will be better,” I assure her. “it will be a better life. A life with purpose. For both of us.”

  “Great,” Phoebe says with more urgency. “But look!”

  I turn my head.

  Ah. I’d forgotten about the two other shadows. It looks like the men from Phoebe’s tribe are already here.

  I stand up and take them in, ignoring the dragon thrashing in its death throes with my dagger still standing between its scales.

  They don’t look like tribesmen at all.

  “Rax’tar,” Phoebe says, standing up beside me. “Get your knife.”

  The dragon’s head falls to the ground with a meaty thud, and the death rattle it gives off will always haunt my dreams
. But the danger comes not from it, but from the two unknown men.

  Weren’t there three dragons we saw flying?

  To my horror, Phoebe suddenly bolts past me and past the two other men towards the dragon. She gets hold of my dagger and yanks with her whole body until it comes loose and she can pull it out.

  The two other men, who I now suspect are in fact dragons, slowly walk towards her.

  I sprint past them and throw myself in front of Phoebe. No more harm will come to her now.

  She hands me the knife. “Don’t let them get this! It turns them into dragons!”

  Clouds have passed over the moon Yrf, and in the absence of the dragon’s shimmer, it’s very dark. Only the burning trees around us give a light. The two other men are mere shadows in front of us. But yes, I can sense their danger.

  “That dagger is a slayer weapon,” one of them says. “Give it to me.”

  “No,” says that other. “I will take better care of it.”

  “Don’t give it to either of them,” Phoebe urges me.

  The two men are as large as me, and very strong. While I still have the dagger, I’m quite exhausted and I don’t know that I would win a fight against them.

  And the pain in my thigh is now quite unbearable! I look down.

  Ah. That explains it. I pick it off me, but it does little to alleviate the pain.

  “Give me the knife,” one of the men says with a voice that’s smooth, but still contains some anxiousness. “It killed Gorgoz. It is of great value.”

  “It’s probably more important to them now that it has been used to slay a dragon,” Phoebe says urgently. “It will strengthen them more!”

  The men are now quite close. I recognize the danger in them. If they were two tribesmen, I would probably not win, even with the dagger. These two are unknown quantities, and I have Phoebe to protect.

  “I will give you the knife,” I agree.

  27

  - Phoebe -

  “No!” I yell. “Don’t!”

  “But I can’t determine which one of you shall get it,” Rax’tar continues and takes my hand. “So, I’ll let you fight it out between you.”

  He winds up with his other arm and tosses the knife hard. It glitters as it flies in an arc over the trees before it splashes into the water on the other side of the island.

 

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