by Lucas, Naomi
“I’m hungry,” I whisper, fussy because he left me empty. Actually, I’m ravenous, suddenly starving. My eyes go to his mouth, wondering if it has something to do with his delicious saliva. “Maybe it’s because you made me feel empty,” I grumble.
“You need food before I can rut you again. Let us get you some food, for both our desires.”
He grabs my hand and tries to lead me back to our camp. I tug. “We need to find a way out of here.”
“Why? Are you not empty? It is safer to rut you at our camp. I can forage for nutrition there and keep an eye on you, female.”
All I want to do is go back to our camp and have him inside me again, but we will not last long if we do. And if he means nutrition as in bugs… “Because we can’t survive down here, not long at least.”
“Of course we can. And we will. There is plenty down here to sustain us—creatures and roots—and I hear a spring deeper within. This is my den, and you are my female, fully seeded. You will bring our young to term here where I can keep you safe. Then I will seed you again until you are done bearing my young.”
His words make me shiver with desire and nervousness. “Humans can’t live in the dark. We’re not made that way. We’re not creatures of darkness. We’re creatures of light.”
His eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
“We live in the sun, and eat… more than just bugs. We need warmth and shelter—more than what this offers—and space. We need all of this and more. I like it here, but it will not sustain us. This cave is too cold for us without hides.”
“I am a dark creature,” he says, and as he does so, I sense darkness rising from the jewel on his brow. Darkness that even I can’t see through with my new sight.
“I feast off of the shadows,” he continues. “They comfort and heal me. I create darkness in return. Here I can be invisible, I will always have the upper hand. We will find a way.”
“We won’t. We need to leave.”
He growls. “So you will leave me? The blush on your cheeks has not even left, and you have proven to be a liar.”
I jerk my hand from his. “I am not a liar. I am being realistic! We must leave and go to my tribe if we want to survive. If we want our children to survive. The jungle is too dangerous for two humans, even if we are lethal!”
“With me there is no danger! I will provide everything. I will take care of you as it should be done.”
“You are no longer a dragon! And I am not that kind of female!”
His nostrils flare, and he steps right up to me. I straighten, meeting him head-on. The tension has returned to us tenfold, but not in the way it was before.
“I am what you have touched, what you are bound to, human.” His voice is low and menacing. “You are mine. You will defer to me.”
I return his scowl. “I won’t be yours for long if you keep me here.” I push past him and storm to my supplies. I hear him following behind me. I drop down, gathering what I can into the remaining pouches and tie them to my waistband. I see my dagger by the dead fire and take that too.
“Female—”
“Milaye. My name is Milaye,” I correct angrily.
“Milaye,” his voice remains grave but softens when I rise to face him again. “You swore.”
“I did.”
His tail wraps around my ankle. “Then let me take care of us.”
“I will.”
Relief floods his eyes.
“But not here,” I say. “I need to get back to my tribe, if possible. I have responsibilities.”
“Haime?”
I tense. Hearing her name pummels me with all sorts of unwanted emotions. “Yes.” I push past him again and head back to the ledge. “Haime. She’s my ward. She… needs me.” I hope she needs me, but only the living have needs. I make it to the ledge and turn around. He’s right behind me. “You can choose to come with me or not.”
“And if I do not?”
I shudder. Just thinking of us splitting apart sends terrible jabs of pain through me. But I can’t stay here, and neither can he. I have to convince him. I peer up at him and inhale.
“You will,” I say, keeping my voice level. “Because I need you and I need this. It’s not only about our survival. Now that you’re better, I need to return to my tribe, I need that more than anything, and to do so, I need you to come with me.”
I watch him studying my face. Finally, he asks, “Why? What is out there that you need more than… than this—us?”
“Haime’s my ward,” I start, though my chest squeezes. “But there’s more to it than that. She’s like a daughter to me and…”
“And what?”
It hurts to say it, to even think of voicing this. As if speaking it might make it true. “And I don’t know if she got out in time.” I wrench my eyes tightly shut. “That’s why I need to leave, and I still would, even if you provided everything you say and more. I’ll never rest not knowing if I failed. If I failed her.”
There, I said it.
And I still don’t know if Haime survived or not. I twitch, fearing what I’ve said, praying there aren’t larger forces at work. Ones that aren’t on my side.
Drazak sighs. My eyes snap open when his brow comes down to rest on mine. “You madden me.”
“I know.”
“We will leave.”
I exhale. “Thank you.”
“Do not thank me, Milaye, Warden of Haime. I will not be good company under the sun.”
I embrace him and burrow my face into his chest. His arms and tails wrap around me. “Thank you,” I tell him again. After a moment, I pull out of his embrace, there is work to do.
He lifts me and pushes me onto the ledge like I weigh nothing. I rock on my feet, steadying myself as he climbs up behind me. Peering down, I notice the ration and my feather are gone.
“Well, human,” he says, rising next to me. “If this is what you need, I will give it to you. I will always give it to you. But you must give me what I need as well.”
I know what he needs. “Of course.”
I take his hand and lead him into the tunnels.
15
The Way Out
I show him the cave-in—the old entrance where I came in however many days ago—pointing to the dirt and rocks blocking our path.
He sniffs the air thoroughly and tells me there’s no blood, old or new, in the air.
It’s enough to give me hope.
We don’t stay long, backtracking a little to find the other path. The clams have been shifted, some are broken, but I pick up the good ones that remain and stuff them into my fire moss pouch. Together we continue, though he takes the lead.
It is his cave after all. But unlike me, he has to remain hunched over most of the time so his horns don’t scrape the ceiling.
“There has to be a way out,” I murmur a while later. The tunnel goes on and on. “Maybe we should head back and try digging our way through the old path,” I suggest. “It might be our best chance of freedom.”
Drazak hums. “I will make us a way out if there is not one. Nothing can hold a dragon, not even the terra of Venys—” He sniffs, harshly. “I smell salty air.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
I go quiet as we walk. When I sniff the air, I notice nothing but the musk of soil. I trust him though and do my part to protect our backs.
My instincts as a huntress become essential as the territory around us grows unfamiliar. Our trek is increasingly treacherous, with rocks and steep ledges we could stumble over. At one point we’re on our hands and knees crawling so long my skin is scraped up. Drazak stops to lick my wounds when the path opens back up.
Then I hear the wind.
It’s faint at first, no more than a whispering whistle. But with each step it grows louder, unmistakable. My heart pounds when the whistle grows increasingly sharp. Like it’s caught gusting through a small hole. Excitement causes my steps to quicken, my gaze searching for the source, but Drazak stops me.
“There’s an opening. There has to be,” I tell him when he doesn’t budge. “If there’s an opening, there may be a way out. Why have we stopped?”
“I smell the naga.”
I still at his words. It makes sense. I saw the boy slip into the tunnels, and so far, there’s been no other path but the blocked one. And I’m positive we haven’t missed any holes in the rocks or crevices where he could have hidden.
“He is up ahead,” Drazak murmurs, peering down the corridor. Following his gaze, I see the path breaks into a mass of stones that leads upward. It’s steep. The shrieking wind calms for a moment, and I hear the scuttle of falling stones. They keep falling until a single pebble rolls its way to our feet.
Drazak tenses beside me. And this time, when he steps forward, I stall him. “Don’t hurt him.”
His face turns to me with a sneer. “Why?”
“He’s just a boy. He’s harmless.”
Drazak’s nostrils flare. “You care about him? Another male?”
“A child. One who’s all alone and possibly stuck here like us.”
“Human, those snake beasts are no less monstrous than a dragon. They make fine food, but their jagged spearheads and poison are wicked at puncturing a wing, and in our case, exposed flesh. If he wanted to survive, he should have never made his home in a dragon’s den.”
“Drazak,” I warn. “We aren’t hurting him. You aren’t hurting him. Even if he attacks us, we’ll subdue him but bring him no harm.”
He scowls.
I scowl back. “We do not hurt children.”
Drazak growls and shakes off my hand. He grumps and scowls at me again. My eyes are narrowed, my lips flat, I’m not backing down.
“Fine,” he barks.
“You promise? It’s your turn to make me a promise,” I add.
More growls. “You use my weakness against me?”
“Yes.”
“I promise, human.” He stomps forward then sprints up the pile of rocks.
“Drazak!” I yell, rushing after him. By the time I catch up, he’s already on the stones, the naga boy underneath him.
A cacophony of shrieks echoes through the cave.
The boy’s tail swipes out, and I dodge to the left. With his next swing, it rises, pounding Drazak on the back. Screeches tear from the boy’s mouth while grunts come from Drazak’s.
“Stop!” I cry, unable to see what’s happening.
I don’t want either one of them to get hurt.
The boy’s tail swipes out again and the tip whips my arm. Pain rushes through me. Slapping my hand on the wound, blood rises under my palm. The naga’s noises grow more frantic and high-pitched.
“Waters! Stop!” I scream. My voice booms through the corridor. The wind picks up, howling again. I dodge the boy’s next attack and grab at both his and Drazak’s arms. Not even my male could convince me to allow this to continue. Thankfully, the naga’s flailing comes to a halt when his tail thumps on the rocks. A scattering of stones tumbles down the slope.
For a moment, they’re the only noise, but then the naga’s ragged panting starts.
“Milaye, move back,” Drazak orders.
I swallow, staring. He has the boy pinned tight to the ground. Drazak’s not hurting him. He’s just subduing him. I’m relieved. Horrified but relieved.
But I glimpse terror in the boy’s eyes and my brow creases. I kneel next to them.
“I said, move back.”
“Let me see him,” I say, ignoring his order. “Look at me,” I tell the boy, making my voice as calm as ever. I’m anything but calm. “It’s me. You know me.”
Drazak groans with exasperation and I clasp his bicep in reassurance.
The boy glances my way. His eyes stick to me.
“See? It’s me,” I say, exhaling. “You have nothing to fear from me.” My feather is lodged in the boy’s tangled hair. “He won’t hurt you,” I voice a little sternly between breaths as a warning to Drazak. “Neither of us will.”
The boy stares at me.
I frown. I’m certain he doesn’t understand what I’m saying, but hopefully he senses my intent. I find no recognition in his eyes. They’re blank, except for fear.
Drazak speaks, “I told you. Nagas are nothing more than beasts. Nothing more than meat.”
I shake my head. “Beasts don’t adorn their hair with feathers,” I say, indicating the one in the naga’s hair. “They also don’t collect shells into piles, steal human supplies, or fashion weapons.” I reach my hand between Drazak and the naga to cup the boy’s cheek. He flinches.
“Milaye!” Drazak barks. The boy tries to snap at my hand, but I’m braced for it and pull my hand away. Drazak tightens his hold on him, and the boy hisses, snapping again.
“If he hurts you, I will break my promise!”
“He won’t,” I reassure him, still sounding calmer than I am. I narrow my eyes at the naga, and wait for him to stop snapping. “Look at me.” The naga does. My pulse flutters. My lips twitch into a brief smile. “I knew you understood me.”
“Coincidence,” Drazak rumbles.
“It’s not a coincidence! Look at him, Drazak. His chest is that of a human male. His face as well. The young parented by dragon men are part-dragon, part-human. Perhaps somewhere in his ancestry, there is a human in him too.” I turn to the boy. “We’re going to let you go.”
Drazak snarls. “I don’t like this.”
I continue, “When we do, I need you not to move. Can you do that? Not move?” I ask the naga.
He hisses.
“We don’t want to hurt you,” I say, caressing his cheek once before pulling my hand away to face Drazak. He’s glaring intensely at his prisoner. “Let him go,” I tell him.
Slowly, carefully, Drazak does just that. He didn’t fight me.
Warmth floods my chest.
I hold my breath, my attention returning to the boy. He goes rigid at first, and I brace, waiting for him to try and escape, but his strain eases and he curls his tail against him instead. Drazak rises to his feet, finding solid footing amongst the stones. When he straightens with a growl, the naga slithers to the side and huddles. I swallow the urge to comfort him and go to Drazak instead.
I wrap my arms tightly around him. He holds me in return. Rubbing my cheek against the scales on his chest, we both calm.
Though I know his eyes are still pinned on the naga…
Wind blasts our ears. We release each other to look up, and I see a thin streak of light pierce through the gloom. Little dust motes fly through the air. I blink several times to make sure it’s actually sunlight that I’m seeing.
“Drazak,” I whisper.
“I know.” He releases me.
I leave him behind to climb, hands and knees, the rest of the way up. When I reach the hole, I find it’s thin, the gap between the wall of the cave and a boulder. I push my hand through, testing the opening with my hand and arm. Nothing budges. It’s too small for any of us to fit through.
I bite down on my tongue, putting a little more pressure on the boulder. It’s stuck. Pulling my hand out, I notice something on the rock. Long, thin scratches from where something tried to claw its way out. Dozens of marks. Glancing back at the boy, my belly churns. He tried to escape. And from the haggard appearance of him, he’s been trying for days.
When he wasn’t in the cavern with us… is this where he’s been?
My eyes find Drazak and I shift to the side. “I can’t move the rock. The opening is behind it.”
“Watch him.” Drazak cocks his head toward the boy. I nod and climb my way down. Drazak catches me at the bottom with a quick hug. He lifts my dagger from its sheath and hands it to me. “I will move it. Use this if he tries to move.” He levels his eyes on me. “I mean it, Milaye.”
“I’ll use it. I’ll protect myself and you.”
Drazak glares at the boy once more and then turns to climb the slope. When he gets to the boulder, I see him test the hole as I had. He notice
s the scratches too.
I turn back to the boy and make my way over to him. He glares at me warily. I keep my dagger in hand, but show the boy my palm. I kneel beside him.
“Are you alone?” I ask although I know the answer.
No response.
“Did you like the ration—err, food?” I rub my belly for meaning.
His eyes shift down for a second. He hisses.
“I’m glad,” I say. “I would like it too if all I had to eat were bugs.” A beetle scuttles over a small rock by my feet. I change the subject. “Can I see your hands?”
Silence.
I point to his hand. “Hands,” I repeat.
His hands twitch. His nails are cracked—gone. I rub my fingertips, imagining his pain. Nagas have claws… They use them to defend themselves. This boy has all but trusted his little life to us. Unless he manages to bite me, he has no other means of defense. He slides his hands under his tail.
I frown but don’t push it.
Drazak grunts. I rise and take a few steps away. Drazak’s back is to the wall where the hole is, one arm through the crack. He’s trying to dislodge the rock. His face is scrunched from the effort. He stops and tries again.
A stream of rocks tumbles down.
“Milaye,” he calls down. “I need…” Another grunt.
“My help?”
“Your help,” Drazak says.
“Stay back and near the wall,” I tell the boy as I start for the top. “If it comes down, it’s going to come down fast. Be ready to move.”
Once I reach Drazak, I start digging and tossing rocks where they might have lodged under the boulder. Drazak watches me, waiting for my cue before pushing again. I move to safety behind him.
He pushes. The crackle of dirt fills my ears, then more grunting. He stops. I get back down and start digging at the rocks again. We do this several times, and by the third, the boulder shifts. He pushes harder, putting all his strength behind it.
I suck in my stomach. Drazak grits his teeth, his jaw ticks, and beads of sweat pour down his face. His muscles bulge, smoke pools out of his jewel like it’s a waterfall, and the plume of it nearly drowns out the light. It eats at it, making parts of the streak vanish entirely.