“Yeah, I think so.” Hoped so, more like it. The kid had stashes hid all over the place, but she hadn’t searched that one yet. Hadn’t found any more matches, either.
Tsai folded her arms over her chest. “The one with the thing in it.”
Hey, the girl was getting real tits. Or she wore her clothes so loose a body never noticed her shape. She’d ask the kid to get her some better fitting clothing. They were all getting pretty raggedy again.
“Stop staring at me.” Tsai moved her hands to her hips. “No matter what you think, I will not open that cupboard.”
Lorel sighed. “We ain’t got nothing to cook, anyhow.”
“There must be something edible beside the stream.” Tsai tromped down to the water and started pulling up green crap.
Yuck. She’d rather go hungry. She should’ve asked the toad to bring back a bunny or something.
Tsai yelped, dropped the green stuff, and yanked a fish out of the water by its gills. “It bit me!”
“And I’m gonna bite it.” Now they really had to find them matches. “Once it’s cooked.”
“You go looking.” The moonlight was just bright enough to see Tsai’s face turn red. “I’ll clean the fish.”
“Too tired.” That wasn’t an excuse she could use often, but it was true tonight. “You go look.” She snatched the fish out of Tsai’s hands.
The girl huffed, but clambered up to the driver’s seat and yanked up the door. “Is this your idea of a joke? It’s not funny.”
Lorel looked up from scraping scales off the fish. “Whatcha nattering on about?”
“The bog-drowned scimitar is on my bed.”
“I put it back on the kid’s bed yesterday.” Lorel paused. Would the toad’ve moved it? Not likely. “Maybe it bounced over there when the wagon near to turned over. Things got kinda dicey for a while.”
“We’ve been inside since then.”
“And you were with me.” Lorel shrugged. “I didn’t do it.”
Tsai glared at her like she didn’t believe none of it, but scooted inside the wagon.
Lorel cleaned the fish, and gutted it. She dragged the skillet out of the trunk. What was she missing? Oh, yeah. Grease. She tapped on the window and yelled, “Bring out the grease pot, too.”
Tsai cussed at her.
Lorel sat down next to the cold pile of wood and promptly fell asleep.
Warmth woke her. Warmth and the smell of cooking fish. She yawned and stretched. “You found his stash?”
“Nope. Just one match he’d hidden under his mattress.” Tsai glanced up at her. “You really were sacked out. Fire’s been going for an hour now.”
“Swimming wears me out.” Like she ever went into cold water if she could avoid it. “I’ll grab some dishes.”
Minutes later, Tsai shoveled half the fish and a bunch of cooked green stuff onto each of their plates.
The fish was wonderful. Crispy, and tender, and only a little burnt. The mess of greens needed something. Salt, maybe. Or even the kid’s vinegar. But her belly was empty enough she ate all the soggy green crap.
In the distance, a serdil wailed.
They both looked up and put their hands on their swords.
Tsai frowned into the dark. “We need to take turns watching the horses tonight.”
Lorel finished licking her plate. “Kid said the roans’ll guard Sumach.”
“They don’t have as much room to maneuver as they did on the coast.”
“Weaver’s cold toes. You’re right.” And she really needed more sleep. But fighting off the serdil would be lots more fun than sleeping. They only ran in packs of five or ten. She could handle that many by herself.
Tsai grinned at her. “You look too happy, all the sudden. I’ll take first watch, and wake you up around midnight.”
“Sounds fair.” Surely she could drive the wagon in her sleep tomorrow. No wonder the kid read so much.
Too bad hardly none of his books were in Zedisti. Even the ones that seemed to have real words didn’t make no sense.
Tsai scooped up the plates and skillets, and headed toward the stream. “I hate to tell you this, but tomorrow afternoon you’ll need to cross back over the water.”
And get all wet again, she meant, unless they found a wider, shallower ford. Lorel sighed. “At least we’ll be heading east.”
No matter what, tomorrow she’d be a little closer to finding the kid.
Bitter blood in the Warp and the Weave. Tsai’d scouted far enough that she wouldn’t get to. She’d be stuck on the wagon all day.
Them serdil better show up. Now she really needed to kill something.
Chapter 11.
The dragon returned from hunting long after dusk. She dropped a large, shaggy, ox-like creature beside her nest. “Light a will-torch.”
With a single motion of his hand, Viper complied.
“Bigger.” Leysamura scowled down at him. “It’s still too dark for you to see anything.”
He enlarged his will-light until it was the size of the dragon’s head, and waved it to hover next to her.
“Much better.” She tore the foreleg from the dead ox and plunked it on his shelf. Humming smugly, she settled down to devour the remainder of the beast.
He stared at the three-foot-long leg for several moments before touching it. Well, it’s a change from liver.
Using a sharp rock as a skinning knife, he prepared the leg, and propped it on stone barbecue posts. He willed a long streak of fire to appear beneath it. With more patience than he could normally muster this late in the evening, he sat and watched the meat cook, using the hoof as a handle to turn the shank.
His wrist itched. His bruises ached. But he was alive, and soon he’d have something in his belly besides liver and waxy fungus.
Leysamura finished her meal as she watched him broil his supper. “I’ve always found that procedure fascinating.”
Beef sizzled, juices dripped into his fire. He swore he could feel the droplets on his skin. His imagination was getting away from him again.
“So I’m not your first victim?” He sliced off a bite from a singed place. It was tough, and it had an odd, musky flavor, but the strange flesh was a welcome, if unpleasant, change.
He craved fruit. If he got out of this mess, he’d become a vegetarian. All this meat was clogging his system. What he needed was a thick piece of soft bread. Oh, don’t think about bread. What he would do for just a dry crust!
The dragon smiled at him and continued to hum.
He wolfed down another bite and felt even more put out. His stomach was still growling, however, so he kept chewing.
“I think you’re keeping me as a pet,” he said around a mouthful of pink meat. “Feeding me every few days, keeping me warm at night, inventing noises to investigate when you could have caught me and mashed me. I feel like a tame rat.”
“You do make a sweet pet.” Leysamura licked the last traces of blood from her fingers. “I so enjoy playing with you.”
“I’m not a dumb animal to be treated this way,” he shouted.
“Would you rather be hungry and cold?” She fluttered her eyelids and grinned.
He hesitated. “Part of me says yes. The rest says no.”
“It scarcely matters.” The dragon stood and stretched. “You are still my toy. I may speak with you and teach you magic, but it will be many years before you are strong enough to command me. Now, I suggest you go hide before I knock this nonsense out of you.”
“I’m not finished eating.” Had barely started eating.
The dragon reached out for him.
So much for being her student. He doused his will-flame and light and scrambled into the nearest tunnel.
Her paw slid after him.
He dashed into the first side tunnel, leapt over a hole in the floor, and scrambled around the corner just before her paw rammed through a hole in the ceiling and slammed into the shaft behind him.
She laughed. “Good. You’re looking up.”
Mor
e like listening up, since he couldn’t see much, but he’d take every victory he could.
He sprinted around another corner –
And agony gored his left foot. He screamed and tumbled to the ground. What had he stepped on?
Nothing. He didn’t have a left foot.
The dragon’s paw whispered into the tunnel.
Still holding his throbbing ankle, he rolled to the side of the shaft and curled against a boulder.
Her fingers found him anyway. She rolled him onto her palm and whisked him out to the cavern. “What happened?”
“Phantom pain, the doctor called it.” He tried to stretch his ankle to ease the cramp, but there was no joint to move. No muscle to cramp. “Cold makes it worse.” Cold, and hunger, and fear, and despair.
“I’ve met dragons who lost a foot. Take off your boot.” She lifted him higher and eyed his stump from several angles. “Can you see its ghost?”
“Sometimes.” Rarely, and usually when he didn’t have time to study the phenomenon. Besides, who wanted to stare at something that wasn’t there anymore?
“Concentrate on seeing it.” She placed him on the shelf, absently picked up his half-cooked dinner, and dropped it into her mouth. Her face wrinkled up as she chewed. “How can you eat burned flesh?”
Burned? It was barely cooked on the outside. Or had been before she swallowed it. He had to learn to eat faster. And to tolerate raw meat. Yuck.
She strolled away and started to pace. “Concentrate on seeing the ghost. Once you can see it clearly, will it to become solid. It’s exhausting, I’m told, but you should be able to walk on it short distances.”
Walk on two feet? That would be such a blessing.
A shudder ran along her body. She groped her middle like a drunkard searching his pockets for a flask. “Go away before I eat you.”
He suspected she wasn’t joking. He yanked his boot back on and limped deeper into the shaft. He sat beside a crack and watched the dragon through a peephole.
The cavern echoed with her pacing. She walked slowly, deliberately, pausing only to stare out the cavern door into the wind.
She walked for hours. Dawn lit the cavern.
He counted the steps she took on each pass. One hundred thirty seven forward, one hundred thirty nine back. He was slowly going crazy trying to figure out where the extra two steps fit in. She never seemed to vary her path.
It must be because he couldn’t see her properly from this hole. However, he was not going out there where she could see him to find out.
His belly growled.
The shadows at the cave’s threshold told him it was noon, but still the dragon paced. Her movement was mesmerizing, her rhythm soothing.
He emptied his mind, and his thoughts were shaped by the aura of the dragon.
Leysamura stopped pacing mid-cavern. She stalked over to the tunnels and thrust an arm in. Her hand closed around his torso.
Viper screamed. He tried to shake himself out of the trance, but thoughts flowed through his mind. Her thoughts? Wind over the mountains, clouds scudding across the sky. His wings screamed through the air.
“Wake up, Adoriel child.” Leysamura lifted him to eye level. “I have no patience for you today. There’s no time. Stop that noise and stay put.” She plunked him on the shelf with a bone-jarring thump and waddled away.
Wind was knocked out of his mind, and out of his lungs. He gasped, but quickly shut his mouth. No point in making her even crankier.
“You’re a Setoyan.” She stopped pacing and stared at him. “Did you learn anything about bone carving?”
His jaw dropped. “I was apprenticed to the bone carver. How did you know?”
She sauntered to the far side of the cavern and reached into a cubbyhole. She paused for a moment, rubbing her belly, but returned to the shelf.
“Catch this.” She dropped a large ivory object into his hands.
It was seven inches long and wide, and three inches thick, but shaped like a tubby dagger with a pair of prongs where the hilt should be.
He turned it over and ran his fingers along one smooth edge. “What should I do with it? What is it?”
Leysamura snorted. “It was one of my baby teeth. Now listen to me. I’m going to be thoroughly occupied for several days. I don’t want you bothering me. I’m giving you this tooth to keep you out of trouble.”
“How is it going to do that?” He glared at the blasted ivory. How he hated make-work. He wasn’t a tentling who needed to be kept entertained.
“You are going to split it in half and carve it. That should keep your hands and mind busy. Carve me a pair of hoops as big around as – oh, your upper arm. Decorate them. I want earrings.” Leysamura cupped her large ears mockingly.
“What do I use for tools?” What was strong enough to carve a dragon’s tooth? He doubted his steel chisels could, if he had them with him. But they were headed east with Lorel.
“There are diamond slivers on the cavern floor.” She scuffed her toes through the rocky litter at the base of the shelf. “Come down and pick up whatever shapes you think you’ll need. But stay away from me. If you bother me, I’m going to begin the game. The final game.”
The dragon glared at him for a moment before resuming her pacing.
Viper stared at the tooth for a moment. Who wanted earrings made of her own teeth? It sounded like the heights of narcissism to him.
He shrugged and tucked it inside his shirt. If it kept her from eating him, he’d carve trinkets for her.
He skidded down the cliff, landing hard on his seat when he hit the floor. “Lightning-blasted dragon.” He searched through the stones along the edge of the wall.
Some of the crystals were obviously diamond chips, for they cut into everything he scratched them across, but the size of the gems made him shake his head in disbelief. These broken bits were often as big as his fist, and sometimes bigger than his head.
How big had the original diamond been?
How had he missed seeing the chips? Maybe he’d been too busy avoiding getting mashed.
He selected several knife-shaped slivers, and some wider, duller pieces to act as wedges. He slid the crystals into his jacket and coat pockets and picked out a few shapes that would serve as chisels. He found one rounded stone with a sharp point that fit his hand perfectly. Since his pockets were full, he stuffed it inside his shirt.
Leysamura shrieked.
He was up the cliff and inside a tunnel before the cavern stopped ringing.
She screamed again.
The sound didn’t seem any nearer, so he crept to a peephole.
She lay writhing on the cavern floor. Her shrieks faded into prolonged howling, and into a heart-rending wail. Finally she caught her breath and dragged herself to her grassy bed.
“I swear I will never put myself through this again.” She moaned and clutched at her abdomen. “I know, I know, I said that last time. Human-born son of a baby slayer. Egg-breaking, yolk-drinking dung chewer! Mim – ma!” Leysamura threw her head back and screamed.
Viper covered his ears and ground his teeth. What a thundering low way to die. It must be food poisoning. What else could make her belly hurt so? And look, she was squirting blood. Food poisoning, for sure.
Leysamura thrashed and curled into herself with convulsions. Suddenly she rolled to all four feet and crouched in a squatting position.
She sucked in a deep breath and screamed. Slowly, so painfully slowly, she laid a single, enormous, blood-red egg.
Wind Dancer bless all mothers. Bahtdor never had problems laying an egg. The only creatures he knew of that had so much trouble with birthing were – humans. He guessed a woman had to think about it to fret about it.
Praise the Thunderer, he wouldn’t ever try it.
Hissing breathlessly, Leysamura hunkered back and glared at the egg. She dragged her body into a protective circle around it and continued to glare at it until she fell asleep.
Watching a snoring dragon got boring after a
few minutes.
Viper pulled the tooth out of his shirt and emptied his shirt and jacket pockets of diamond chips.
Fresh scratches on his belly smarted. He was lucky he hadn’t impaled himself. He didn’t even remember climbing up the cliff wall.
He studied the tooth in the fading light. Shouldn’t be hard to split it in two roughly equal pieces. No harder than splitting a bahtdor bone. He chose a thick wedge, but laid the tools down. If he started banging and woke her, the dragon would eat him without remorse. He’d work on it tomorrow, after she’d had lots of sleep. Maybe she’d be in decent mood.
He stared down at the sleeping dragon, and slumped against the cold tunnel wall.
Night fell, and with it came bone-numbing cold. He didn’t dare go near Leysamura and the egg, so he lit a will-fire and huddled close to it.
Could he hold the flame all night?
If he didn’t, he’d freeze to death. She said it’s just a matter of will, and he certainly had the will to live, so he thundering well better keep a fire burning all night.
He could do it. He just wouldn’t get any sleep.
He missed the Kyridon’s warmth at night. He even missed Lorel and Tsai’dona’s teasing. Odder yet, he already missed Leysamura’s company.
The tunnel remained chilly, even with the comforting little fire at his back. If he had something to do, the cold wouldn’t bother him as much.
A chunk of charcoal near the wall caught his eye. Where did it come from? Probably a bit of one of his roasting sticks.
He started to toss it way, but stopped and examined it more carefully. He could draw a design for the earrings with it. That would be easier than trying to remember all the details.
A few quick lines on the cave wall invoked the outline of the slumbering dragon.
He leaned against the cold wall and stared at his drawing. Not a bad resemblance. Not as good as Trevor’s illustrations, though. He needed more practice. Dragon limbs were jointed differently from every creature he’d studied, except the bahtdor, and he’d never tried to draw one of them.
He scratched a pair of widespread wings on the stone, and felt obligated to finish the portrait. Another pair of wings followed.
The dragon muttered in her sleep. Something about eating the noisy little rat.
Dragon's Child (The Mindbender's Rise Book 4) Page 8