This time she held her position as she listened. There were no whispers of sounds and no actual whispers of words either. She poked the light on again and moved a few more feet. She repeated that until she was well past the pile of dragon scales and the faint light was enough for her eyes to distinguish the right places to put a foot. She moved forward until she was afraid someone might be able to see her or perhaps see a shadow where one shouldn’t be.
Ahead of her, the cavern took a hard right turn. Between her and the curve looked clear enough, but after that she’d be in the light with nowhere to hide, and she had no idea what was ahead of her. Supposedly her training had covered everything, but she didn’t really feel like there’d been a scenario that included someone descaling dragons and the best way to sneak through a cave to rescue a dragon who was probably in line to have her scales removed. Apparently her parents hadn’t faced this particular issue before.
Perhaps insanity really did run through her family, otherwise there was absolutely no logical explanation for why she was standing there contemplating the best way to sneak through a well-lit corridor into the very lair of someone who was capable of snatching a dragon from the air.
She tucked the flashlight in her pocket. Then she curled the fingers of her right hand, much as if she was holding on to a sword, and twisted her wrist sharply. The slender wooden bracelet clinging to her wrist thumped against her skin. The familiar weight of her sword settled into her hand. The light didn’t gleam off the sword, but she could still see the etchings in the cross guard. Her fingers tightened on the grip. Now she felt ready, or as ready as she was going to be.
With the sword held low, she moved forward, careful to step as silently as possible. Bit by little bit, she could see farther down the cave until she had come around the bend and could see to the next one. She was alone, but there was a light attached to the wall where the cave started its next bend.
Her feet tingled, and she pushed off with her toes, throwing herself forward into the air. Where she’d been about to step, the ground opened up into a ten-foot-deep hole with spears lining the bottom. The opening widened, stretching nearly six feet across. With another twist of her wrist, she vanished the sword. Then she leaned forward, stretching herself until her body made a long line, trying to get every bit of distance out of that initial jump as she could.
Her toes hit the very edge of the pit, sliding down. The weight of the pack pulled her back, but she wrenched her body forward as her legs folded under her. She hit the edge of the pit hard with her shins, and her vision flickered, but she had just enough momentum to crash her entire upper body on the ground. Her vision hadn’t even cleared before she was on her hands and knees, scrambling forward. When there was a solid foot between her and the edge, she sat down, eyes locked on the well-lit end of the cavern. Between her ragged breathing and the pounding of her heart, her ears were next to useless.
If anyone was nearby, they had to know there was an intruder. Her hand shook as she resummoned her sword. As much as she wanted to stay on the ground, she’d be better prepared to face an attack on her feet. Her throbbing shins protested. They’d be bruised tomorrow, but for now her legs still worked. When she was up and trying not to sway from side to side, she took stock. Her old aches and pains were back. Along with aching shins, she’d scraped up her arm and cheek. Considering she’d landed on a sand-covered rock, she was in better shape than she had any right to be. Maybe the earth was helping her more than she’d given it credit.
A rattle filled the hallway, slowly rising in volume. Shasta froze, eyes locked on the far end of the corridor. A serpentine form slithered into the light. It wasn’t a snake but rather a snake-inspired creature. It was as big around as her waist, covered in light brown scales with darker brown patches down its back. While the snake had the coloration and tail of a prairie rattlesnake, the size and behavior were all wrong. Whoever had taken Matilda not only had the ability to capture a dragon but to modify creatures. Shasta wasn’t sure if that made this person more or less scary.
The oversized snake reared up nearly six feet in the air, leaving about two-thirds of its body on the ground. Then the snake flared its hood, more than doubling the size of its head and neck.
More scary it was. Prairie rattlers didn’t have a hood, and they didn’t rear up that way.
Just great. Not only did this cave have traps, but it also had a rather formidable guard she had to get past if she was going to find Matilda.
The snake hissed, exposing long fangs.
Her fingers tightened on the hilt of the sword. She had to get past that thing. Fighting the snake sounded possible in theory, but natural snakes were fast and some could kill a person with a single bite. She wasn’t willing to bet on this snake being any slower than its wild brethren.
She cracked her shields, trying to get a sense of the snake’s personality. A wave of hatred washed over her. Shasta tried to project a sense of friendly intent toward the snake. Reaching directly into its mind, she told it, Friend.
Not! The snake lurched a foot closer to Shasta, hissing.
Shasta slowly inhaled, gathering herself for the battle she knew was about to happen. The remainder of the hall, which had once felt so long, now looked far too short. Matilda was her priority, not proving she could best this snake creature. She had to try diplomacy one more time.
She reached out again with her mind. Want to be your friend.
Lies! In one smooth and frighteningly fast movement, the snake pushed off with its tail, flying through the air toward her.
Shasta dove down, her pack throwing her off-balance as she rolled to the side of the corridor. A thud vibrated through the ground when the snake landed. She jumped to her feet and swung back to face the snake, her sword ready. The snake had already twisted around. This time it was coiled, its head pulled back and ready to strike.
While its previous behavior had been more like that of a cobra, this was typical of rattlesnakes, though she’d never seen one this large or this angry with her. She tried once more to talk to it. Friend.
The snake’s head darted forward, jaws opening and its fangs dropping down, ready to pierce her skin. Shasta leaped to the side, lashing out with her sword as she moved. A narrow gash about six inches long opened up on the side of its neck. Its jaws snapped closed, and it jerked its head back, turning into one very large coil of shifting, writhing snake.
Shasta kept her sword up and ready. When the snake didn’t resume its attack, she risked giving the hallway a good look. It was still the two of them. While she wanted to sneak into the next part of the cave, into what she suspected was the main cavern, she was still within easy striking distance of the snake.
Its head poked through the coils long enough for it to hiss at her and rattle its tail before hiding again. The longer the snake flowed around itself, occasionally hissing or shaking its rattle, the more the adrenaline left her system. It was possible this was the first time the snake had been injured by a person while guarding the cave. Then there was the sword. This could be the first time it had seen one.
Friend? Shasta offered again.
Hurt. Enough of its head poked between its coils for her to see its nose and eyes. You hurt me.
Because you attacked. I can be a friend. She wanted to offer to heal the wound, but she was low enough on her power that even a small healing was beyond her.
Not friend! It darted at her, the harsh sound of its rattle filling the air. The snake’s mouth opened, and its fangs came down again.
With two hands on the hilt, Shasta swung the sword up with all her strength. The sword sliced into the underside of the snake’s jaw, tearing through scales and muscle. The snake’s fangs halted inches from her. She twisted the sword. The snake’s tail rattled again, even more violently than before. Closing herself off to the creature’s pain, she violently jerked the sword across the underside of its neck, pulling until the sword ripped free.
The snake collapsed to the floor, thrashing and not
yet dead. She lifted the sword for a good overhand chop and brought the sword down with every bit of strength in her body. The body thrashed as it died, pulling the stump of its neck away from the head.
“I am sorry.” Shasta leaned against the wall of the cave. “May the earth embrace you and give you peace.” She gave the snake what respect she could as she watched it die.
Chapter Seven
When the snake creature was truly dead, she adjusted the straps on her pack, lifted her sword into high guard, and started creeping closer to the light and to whatever was at the end of the hall. She tried to get a sense of what was ahead of her, but the earth wasn’t sharing information, and magically she was done.
Step by careful step, she made her way down the hall. After checking that nothing was flanking her, Shasta eased around the corner. The cavern was enormous, easily large enough to hold several fully grown dragons. Directly in front of her was a flat area, perhaps twenty feet by twenty feet, occupied by several tables holding everything from a lamp to beakers and tubes that would’ve looked at home in a chemistry lab. What she didn’t see was Matilda or whoever had captured her.
To the left, a wall was in the process of forming where stalactites and stalagmites were merging into one. Through the gaps, Shasta saw lights marking a path that moved deeper into the cave. Far above, the roof of the cave was dotted with glowing blue shapes, much like stars decorated the night sky.
Shasta reached out, trying to determine what was creating the effect. Rather than the magic she expected to find, there were thousands of tiny creatures, larvae of some type of fly, living up at the top of the cave. They not only felt content up there, they dangled on slender threads, uniquely suited to a place like this where wind wouldn’t be able to tangle their homes. She breathed a soft sigh of relief. They were natural creatures, and ones that were extremely unlikely to hurt her at that.
Stepping as softly as she could, Shasta crossed the space. In a far corner she spotted a cot. As she passed a table, her eyes caught on a plate holding a half-eaten burger. She paused, lowered her sword, switched it to her left hand, leaned over, and touched the patty. It was still warm. Whoever was living here had left their meal half-finished, likely to retreat farther into the cave and past any additional safeguards.
She resumed a two-handed grip on her sword and continued forward. Matilda was in this cave, so she had to keep going. With that at the forefront of her mind, she crept around the mass of stalactites and stalagmites, the wall of the cave only a short distance to her right. The cavern opened up before her. Lights marked a winding path down into the depths. What little light made it to the rest of the cavern gave her the impression of towering formations and hidden nooks. Far above, the creatures emanating the blue light stretched for what felt like miles.
The air was still against her skin, and free of the stench of decay from the mounds of scales, it was pleasant to breathe. While there were likely places with soured or noxious air, this was not one of them.
The blade of her sword trembled, and she adjusted into a low guard, giving her aching arms time to recover. With the downward slope of the path, this position would be a good defense against anyone rushing her from below, though it did little to help if she was attacked from behind.
With that cheerful thought, she started down the path. It hugged the wall for some time, slowly curving deeper into the cave. Battery-powered LED torches were stuck in the ground about every ten feet, providing enough light for her to see the path while simultaneously ruining her night vision. Whatever was occupying the rest of the space was lost in the dark, even to her elven eyes.
Shasta was between two of the lights when her foot slipped on the loose bits of rock. She wobbled but regained her footing quickly. A piece of rock skittered a few feet down the path, the slight scuffling sounding as loud as a trumpet in the otherwise silent cave. She froze, hardly daring to breathe.
Nothing happened.
She sucked in air, glad that at least right now she wasn’t under attack. Her eyes lowered to the path, searching out the pebble. It was about three feet ahead of her yet again in a position where she could step on it. However, her shadow, which up till now had been rather faint unless she was standing right next to the lights, made heavy lines across the floor. She wasn’t alone. Shasta pivoted on her foot and lifted her sword.
Bobbing just about head height was a brightly glowing blue sphere.
Forgetting everything her dad ever taught her, she let her sword tip droop until it was touching the floor. “Dammit.”
“Shasta? Is that you?” There was muttering too low to come across the magical version of a telephone, which was only capable of transmitting sounds. Cord had been right. It had taken her mom less than a week to get the spell right.
Her mom had the absolute worst timing. “I’m here, Mom, but can we talk later?” Not for the first time, Shasta wished her mom was a less powerful witch. It took a lot of magic and skill to make a spell that could act as a telephone, especially across the entire country, but her mom was more than capable of that effort. Dammit.
“Shasta! There you are.” Her mom’s voice brightened.
She winced at how loud her mother’s voice sounded in the cave, the one where supposedly there was someone holding a dragon and that someone probably would really like to kill Shasta and cover up where they were hiding. She tried to keep her voice low, hoping her mom would do the same. “Yes, Mom, I’m here.”
The spell bobbed over until it was hovering slightly in front of her at face height. “I won’t be able to call you Sunday, so I thought we could chat a little now.”
The previously sinister darkness of the cave now seemed to be mocking her. The empty space where her magic usually lived had the same feeling. While she could never match her mom for magic, had she not been depleted, she could’ve ended the spell. Though, knowing her mom, it would’ve showed back up again. “It really isn’t the best time.”
“Please? With Victor in Europe and your father focused on that new plant of his, it’s gotten a little lonely around the lodge.” There was a faint sniffle. “I miss having the two of you at home.”
The honest emotion managed what guilt wouldn’t have accomplished. Shasta brought her sword back up into the guard position, resigned to doing her best to explore this cave while consoling her mom. She’d lost the stealth she’d had before, so the noise was less of an issue for the moment. “We have a set contract here. I’ll be back before you know it.”
She crept around the troublesome pebble. If she told her mom the truth, that would get her to hang up, but it would also result in her mom, her dad, and very likely her brother all showing up tomorrow, determined to rescue her and fix whatever had gone amiss in the Dragon Lands. Not only would that put them in danger, but for once Shasta wanted to be seen as someone capable of walking into a dangerous situation and getting out, not as the baby of the family. Though deciding to use this particular situation to prove a point probably wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done.
“Yes, well, the dragons have been talking about extending your contract.” A hearty sigh drifted across the line. “Truthfully, I think they like having someone out there to keep things interesting for them.”
“In that case, we can recommend a few people. That’ll get the dragons what they want, and Cord and I can come out for one month every year.” That was assuming she didn’t die as a result of being on the phone while creeping through a cave occupied by someone strong enough to kidnap a dragon.
Her mom’s voice brightened. “Oh, that’s a lovely idea. I wonder how they feel about centaurs?”
“I can ask later.” Ahead of her were two torches close together and the faint outline of what Shasta thought was an opening to another cavern.
“That would be delightful.” There was a slight pause, then her mother’s voice took on a slightly inquisitive tone. “How are you and Cord?”
Shasta’s toe caught on a rock. She pitched forward, swearing as she re
gained her balance. “We’re fine, Mom.”
“Are you okay? It sounded like something happened.”
“I stumbled on some uneven ground. I’m fine. Cord and I are fine.” The path forked, one part of it going into the cavern to her right and the rest continuing ahead. Since she had no backup, regardless of the choice she made, it was possible for something to flank her. However, she still needed to find Matilda, so that was a risk she’d have to take. She started down the path to the chamber to her right.
Her mother hummed. “But there was some tension between the two of you before you left.”
Shasta hoped the earth would forgive her for her lie. “It was just nerves, our first big assignment and all.”
“If you’re sure…” Her mother’s voice trailed off.
“I’m sure.” Shasta quietly walked down the path. The opening ahead certainly appeared large enough for a dragon like Matilda to fit through, but that didn’t mean she was in there.
“Your father always thought… Well, if it was just nerves, I guess it doesn’t matter.”
Shasta stopped in her tracks. “What did Dad think? What doesn’t matter now?”
“He really wouldn’t want me to say.”
“Well, it’s too late for that. Spill.”
There was a lengthy moment of silence before her mom muttered, “Narzel blast it. Well, from the very beginning, Cord went beyond his duty in seeing to your well-being. Your dad has been wondering if Cord has a Calling.”
“A Calling,” Shasta repeated. A Calling was a special elf thing that pulled the poor afflicted elf toward something. Usually that something was extremely dangerous and highly likely to prevent the elf from living out their nice long life. The problem with Callings, other than the obvious, was that the elf had to figure out what they were supposed to be doing. Some spent their entire life hounded by the sense that they were needed but never understanding how or where. Others, like her father, figured it out. His Calling was to protect her mother, and he’d somehow survived evil werewolves, demons, and some truly insane witches. However, with that behind them, her parents had been able to live an otherwise relatively normal life, minus whatever scars resulted from the great big scary things the two of them had faced together. Her mom had always hoped that being only half elf, Shasta would be immune to such things. She hadn’t had the heart to tell her mom that that particular hope was a lost cause. The earth had created her with a purpose that might as well have been an elven Calling.
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