He examined it curiously, surprised at the pleasant, tickling sensation against his fingers. It glowed with a soft golden color, yet it was black at the edges. Viper stroked it and admired his handiwork. The flame stayed in whatever shape his fingers placed it.
“Amazing.” He rolled it into a ball and held it over his head. “Stay high and follow me.”
The glowing ball stayed above his head.
Grinning, he marched forward.
The golden ball followed, one step behind.
His grin slid into a frown. With the flame behind him, it cast his shadow directly where he wanted to go.
“This won’t do.” He glared up at the ball. “Stay one step ahead of me.”
The golden flame hesitated, but slowly floated in front of him.
“Much better.” He crept forward. The ball stayed ahead of him. It didn’t waver when he moved his head, but instead followed the direction of his chest. Why hadn’t he tried this spell ages ago?
The tunnel was riddled with passageways and shallow caves. Within minutes he guessed there was no one place where he’d be completely out of the dragon’s reach. He’d have to stay constantly on the run.
If she was the playful type, he was going to get an awful lot of exercise. He knew he should have asked Lorel for sword practice.
He passed several ice-rimmed pools of water. None of them looked deep, but splashing through them would give his position away, not to mention soaking his boots and trousers. He shivered at the thought and walked a little faster.
His cramped belly rumbled like a volcano. A sip of icy water eased his throat, but it made his stomach hurt even worse.
In the farthest tunnels, the walls changed from black to gray. A nasty, slimy-looking gray. He touched it gingerly and discovered the surface was firm but flexible, and not slimy at all.
“Fungi,” he whispered. “Yuck. I’d rather eat raw grubs.”
Deeper into the tunnel he found great ears of the fungus, sometimes extending several feet into the cave. He examined these beds from a safe distance. With his current luck, the ears would flap open into toothy mouths. He shuddered and turned away.
A whooshing roar emanated from the main cavern. Viper hurried back toward where he thought the original tunnel would be.
When he poked his head into the dim light he realized he’d taken the wrong tunnel, but it didn’t matter. The entire wall was pockmarked with passageways. He had many places to run, but his tormentor had as many ways to catch him. There was nothing he could do except hope he could outrun her.
He leaned against the wall and watched the dragon feed.
She’d killed a large elk. She ate it daintily, nibbling off one limb at a time.
His stomach growled. His mouth was watering long before she was finished. Was he hungry enough to eat raw meat? Maybe. He kept half a hope she would feed him until the last scrap of flesh was gone.
“I’m very hungry,” he said softly.
“You must find your own food.” Leysamura licked her claws. “It’s there. I am ready to commence the game.”
Game? He blinked at her, turybirdish.
She reached toward him.
Blast, her lightning-struck game of cat and mouse. He fled back into the corridor.
Her hands stalked after him, alternating tunnel by tunnel. No matter which way he ran, a huge red hand was just before or behind him. He dashed from tunnel to cave to narrow chute, often feeling her claws brush his back.
He was a mouse who possessed too many bolt holes, none safe to use. He was certain the dragon tracked him by following his will-light, but he was too flustered to douse its flame.
“Come now, little Adoriel. You can do better than that to escape me.” Leysamura laughed. “Do try harder.”
He leapt over a hole in the floor, landed hard on his stump, and staggered onward.
Her detailed descriptions of how she planned to eat him did nothing for his shattered nerves.
“That’s enough.” The dragon’s hand slid out of the tunnel in front of him. “You’re too slow. I tire of this game, and I don’t want to grow bored with you yet. I believe I’ll go stretch my wings.” She launched out of the cavern with a rattle of stones and a whisper of displaced air.
Viper collapsed to the cold ground, panting fiercely.
Lightning strike her! If she’d stayed another minute she’d have caught him. She planned to prolong this torture as long as she could.
His stomach growled again. At least it waited until the monster was out of hearing range. But what could he eat?
Thunderer, I’m so hungry! She said there’s food in here. Where? All I’ve seen is stone and water and fungi. The fungus? She wants me to eat that fungus? Deathsinger, sing your song for me! If I’m not to be eaten, then I’m to be poisoned or starved. I can’t eat that garbage.
He searched through the tunnels again, but wound up between an icy pool and a fungus bed.
I give up. I’m so hungry I’ll try anything.
He broke off a corner from one gray ear, stuffed it into his mouth, and chewed reluctantly.
I’ll never complain about Lorel’s cooking again. Even burnt it tasted better than this. This crap is – flavorless. Like eating a ball of purified wax. Another thing I swore I’d never taste again.
He took another bite, swallowed it half chewed, and took a quick sip of water. It seemed to fill his belly, so he ate several bites more, but that was all he could stomach.
He plodded back to the main cavern and huddled just deep enough within a tunnel to be out of sight. He doused the will-light and curled into a cold knot of misery.
A thousand years later, sunset turned the cavern walls orange.
Leysamura glided to the back of the cave and settled onto the floor. In moments she was asleep.
Viper sat shivering inside the tunnel. His stitches burned from the frosty air. His stump ached as if he’d walked seven hundred miles. He huddled in on himself and tried to sleep.
Gooseflesh prickled his skin as the night grew colder.
He must have dozed, for he wakened himself by shuddering. He glared across the cave and wished maledictions on the sleeping dragon.
She’s so warm. If I sneak down there and curl up next to her, she’s liable to roll over in her sleep and crush me. That would be a quick way to die.
I’ll risk it.
He slid down the cliff as silently as he could, considering he had intended to climb down. Warm wetness pooled in his palm, but quickly cooled. He must have broken open the cut. His hand was so cold he didn’t feel it sting.
Ignoring the lavender mist that trailed after him, Viper crept up to the sleeping monster and huddled next to her tail where it curled around her feet.
She was warm. Eventually his shaking stopped. He crumpled into sleep.
And he dreamed.
He dreamed that the dragon opened her eyes and looked down at him. A gentle hand drifted over him and lifted him, up, up.
The hand settled him snug between the tip of her tail and the warmth of her belly.
Gold-flecked black eyes smiled, and closed.
Chapter 4.
“This is as bad as when you kidnapped him.” Lorel chucked more rocks into the blood-woven ditch that crossed the canyon floor. It was almost full enough to get the wheels over it without getting stuck again. “Maybe worse. Back then it was only me and Tsai. The wagon and these nags are gonna make me jump off the Shuttle.”
Kyri-thing just tilted its head and watched them work.
Her back hurt from moving so many thread-fraying rocks. Her head hurt from worrying. Her whole body hurt from having to travel so slow. The kid needed her.
Keeping the miswoven wagon wasn’t worth the trouble of finding a road for it. Horses that wouldn’t let her ride them were worth even less.
The team stomped restlessly. Even Sumach, tied at the back of the wagon, fussed a little.
Tsai hauled another rock down the far side of the canyon and tossed it into th
e hole. “There’s got to be an easier way.”
“The swordlings should be appreciative they are not traversing a quagmire.” Kyri-thing peered down at them from the safety of the driver’s bench.
Whatever it just said, she didn’t care. But she’d slug the stupid snake if it got any closer.
“This one is most grateful to observe a substantial route.”
“The horses ain’t grateful to be here.” Lorel stepped into the hole and stamped the rocky pile flatter. “We should’ve left them on the beach.”
“The hatchling would disagree. A predator could devour the unattended equines. The hatchling would be despondent were the swordlings to squander this conveyance.”
Tsai paused and frowned at the snake. “What was that?”
“The hatchling would not wish to give up this vehicle.”
Lorel glared at the legless lizard. “You mean you don’t wanna give up the wagon.”
The overgrown wiggler dipped its head. “This one is not constructed for extensive locomotion.”
“Little words, toad.” She pushed a boulder into the trench and shoved it down. That should be enough fill for the wheels to get across on this side.
Kyri-thing laid its head flat on the driver’s seat and made a sound suspiciously like a sigh. “This one is not built to travel.”
Tsai giggled and heaved another rock into the far side of the hole.
Lorel raised her eyebrows and grinned. “I guess you ain’t.”
She staggered upright, both hands on her back. Her spine crackled like old sticks when the wagon ran over them.
Weaver’s chamberpot, she sounded like she was a hundred years old. She felt a hundred years old. That’s what moving slow did to a girl.
The slithering toad lifted its head and stared at her. “The diurnal rhythm progresses. This one advocates a nocturnal bivouac.”
She stalked toward the driver’s platform.
It wriggled to the far side of the bench.
She swung up beside it and glared at the legless lizard. “Little words, toad.”
The overgrown wiggler’s whole body sagged. “This one suggests that the swordlings halt for the night.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said all day.” She nodded at Tsai. “Make sure you’re clear, but keep an eye on the wheels.”
Tsai saluted. “As you will, commander.”
Lorel snorted and shook the reins.
The roans trudged across the pit and up the path. The wagon rumbled over the rubble-filled hole.
“Looks fine so far.” Tsai waved one hand up the canyon. “There’s decent grazing about half a mile ahead. It’s not a defensible site, though.”
“It’ll do. It’s not like anything’s bothered us in ages.” Except a dragon, and none of them wanted to talk about that.
Tsai untied Sumach and mounted up.
Lorel settled onto the driver’s seat next to the slithering toad and jiggled the reins.
The team trudged onward. Canyon walls petered out and the path opened into a rocky meadow. In the distance, huge clouds of black smoke rose into the air. A volcano? Or the forest the kid burned with his fraying magic? She hoped they wouldn’t have to go that way, no matter what caused the fire.
She guided the team to one of the smoother areas and got down to unharness them. She left their halters on, though. She didn’t trust the roans the way she’d trusted Nightshade. “Too bad we don’t have hobbles for these runaways. Maybe I should make some.”
“No, don’t.” Tsai looked up from combing Sumach. “With all this grass, they’ll only run if something chases them.”
“Like me?” Lorel grabbed another comb and groomed Poppy’s back. Blue-gray fur flew everywhere. Just her luck they’d started shedding. Well, that proved winter was finally over.
The legless lizard sneezed, but it stayed up on the driver’s bench. Lazy sot. Why didn’t it go hunting or something? Something useful, anyway. The miswoven toad wasn’t good for much but pointing out the way.
Once all the horses were cleaned up, Tsai grabbed the shovel out of the bottom trunk and dug up a spot for a fire pit.
“Scoot over, toad.” Lorel climbed past the snake into the wagon and tried to figure out dinner. Was there anything left besides rice? Coward crap, there wasn’t even much of that. They better start doing some serious foraging, even if it slowed them down.
The kid’s cloak lay on his bed where she’d tossed it yesterday, on top of his fraying magical weapons. She picked it up and hugged it. The fur smelled of smoke and little-boy sweat.
Where was he now? Was he cold? Surely he was scared. But he gotta know she was coming for him. She laid the warm fur back on his mattress and wiped tears off her face.
Not tears. Sweat. She’d been working hard for hours.
She grabbed a pot, scooped in a couple handfuls of rice, and headed back outside. But for just one moment she paused to admire the Crayl steel blades surrounding the door. Who’d’ve thought the kid had the guts to buy real steel? Not her, she still could hardly believe it.
But anybody who could save up enough money to buy that much steel had the brains to outwit a dragon. If anybody could survive, it was the kid. And she’d get to him, help him.
She shouldered under the door and dropped to the ground.
The slithering toad was gone, sing to the Weaver. She was tired of listening to it nag.
A glimpse of white caught her eye. “What was that?”
Tsai looked up from playing with sticks in the fire pit. “I didn’t notice anything. Hey, did Viper ever teach you how to start a fire?”
“You gotta stack it just right.” Lorel dropped the pot next to the pit and knelt to rearrange the wood. “The kid has a stash of matches in a drawer someplace. Go get one.”
Tsai spluttered at her, but climbed up to the driver’s bench and lifted the door. “Bog drown it. Is this your idea of a joke?”
“I’m too tired to joke.” Lorel leaned back on her heels. “What’s wrong?”
“The scimitar is lying on my bed.”
“You’re kidding. I never put it there.”
Tsai reached in, picked up the curved sword, and swung it over the front of the wagon. Fake flames followed its path through the air. “Yeah, right.”
“Honest, I never touched it. I don’t even remember seeing it.” She’d been too busy admiring steel weapons to bother with magic ones. The bone swords the kid carved for her were more magic than she ever wanted.
“Then what’s it doing out?”
“How should I know? I left all of them on the kid’s bed.” Was the girl still making excuses not to go into the wagon? “Go put it back and bring me a couple of matches.”
Tsai grumbled, but scooted inside.
Lorel stood, nudged the wood with her boot, snatched up the pot, and went looking for water. All she had to do was follow the hoof prints.
A few hundred feet inside the forest, she found the horses guzzling at a shallow creek. She dipped her pot into the muddy water and headed back to camp. All three horses all trailed behind her, making enough racket to wake the City Guard clear back in Zedista.
By the time she got to the wagon, Tsai had the fire burning. Sort of.
“You remember how long to cook rice?” Lorel settled the pot on top of the pile of smoking wood. “I know there’s a trick to it.”
“It’s done when the water’s gone.” Tsai frowned into the pan. “But I think that’s too much water.”
“I guess we’ll find out.” Lorel poked at the smoldering wood. “I really didn’t move the fraying thing.”
Tsai shrugged.
A horde of gnats swarmed over them, buzzing and stinging and biting like they’d never found such a great meal in all their lives.
Lorel yelped and slapped at her face. Where was the kid’s magic when she needed it?
Tsai scooted sideways, into the smoke. She coughed, but the bugs stayed away from her.
Sumach screamed and took off runnin
g like all the demons in Kerov were chasing her.
Blood in the Weave! What caused that? Lorel leapt to her feet and dashed after the little mare.
Tsai scurried back to the canyon mouth and headed her horse off. “Slow down, girl. What’s wrong with you?”
Sumach made a sharp turn and galloped toward the forest.
Lorel sprinted after her.
Periwinkle trotted in front of the mare and bared his teeth. Them roans did the strangest things. Was it something the kid taught them?
Sumach swerved and galloped toward the wagon.
Miswoven horse. Lorel spun around and raced after her.
Tsai scuttled forward and tried to grab the mare’s halter.
The blood-woven horse whirled and galloped back to the forest, but swerved at the last moment. Sing to the Weaver she decided to avoid the trees. They’d never catch her if she got into the woods.
“What’s wrong with you?” Tsai yelled.
Too bad horses never talked. Lorel changed course and sprinted after the mare.
Poppy strolled into Sumach’s path and thumped her shoulder against the crazy horse’s chest.
The little mare staggered, but lurched back to her feet and galloped around the clearing.
Lorel laughed breathlessly. “She’s surely nimble-footed.”
“I’m going to nimble her foot once I catch her.” Tsai backed up to guard the canyon, where the fraying horse might break her miswoven neck. “I take back my dislike of hobbles.”
“You know how to make them so she don’t break her legs?” A cramp bit into her side. She gave up on racing after the fraying horse and hobbled to the widest opening between the trees. With any luck, the wagon would fit through there. With more luck, Sumach wouldn’t squeeze past her and escape.
Tsai snorted. “I know as much about hobbles as I did about horses on the day we bought them.”
“Then we ain’t got no chance of making them right.” They’d bought Nightshade that day, too. How she missed that horse. Worse, it was all her fault her poor lad died.
Sumach stumbled into a trot. After one more trip around the clearing, she slowed to a walk.
Tsai matched her pace to the mare’s, and gently reached out for the bridle. “What do have to say for yourself, old girl?” She led the horse back to the wagon.
Dragon's Child (The Mindbender's Rise Book 4) Page 3