by Calista Skye
There are small hills and valleys, all with gentle slopes that are easy to navigate. I get the feeling that we’re going steadily downhill.
The air is cool and clear, and this could be a really pleasant landscape if it hadn’t been for the dinos that could lurk behind each tree.
I spot a cluster of bushes and make a beeline for it.
Immediately the dragon is in front of me, blocking the way. “Walk straight, little female. I don’t like to have you waste my time.”
I point at the bushes. “I need food so I can keep going. Would you like it if I couldn’t walk at all?”
He frowns. “Those little bushes will nourish you?”
“I don’t know. Looks like there are berries. They might be edible.”
Caronerax sighs. “Such a needy species. It’s a wonder your kind can live at all.” He stands aside.
The berries are unfamiliar to me, but they’re bright red and translucent. They remind me of redcurrant.
One careful taste tells me that they’re not redcurrant at all, but the taste is so pleasant and lychee-like that I’m able to eat quite a lot of them. The berries are bursting with deep red juice, but they’re fragile and don’t survive much handling before they crack and are squashed. They’re probably over-ripe, and I think I detect some fermentation on the scent.
I optimistically make a cone from a big leaf and fill it with not-currants. I haven’t seen a lot of berries in this forest, and I should stock up when I can.
Caronerax is leaning against a tree a small distance away, looking disinterested and still impatient.
I get the tiny knife out of the pouch around my neck. The blade is no larger than that of a small pocket knife, and the handle doesn’t quite fill my hand when I grasp it.
Even so, I manage to cut a sapling off at the root and strip it of twigs. I get one of the big leaves and stain it with red not-currant juice, then attach the leaf to the end of the sapling with a thin length of bark. Not something I would use to catch fish, but it will have to do for now.
I walk over to Caronerax and hold out my palm, filled with berries. “Want some? They’re good.”
“Good for killing dragons, no doubt,” he grunts. “You keep testing my patience. I should rip you apart and be done with it.”
“Suit yourself.” I pop another couple of berries into my mouth, more for show than because I need much more. The sugar in them has already perked me up and given me more energy. “I guess we’ll keep going.”
So I do, reflexively keeping a good lookout around me and up at the sky. I haven’t seen any not-dactyls in this forest, but that doesn’t have to mean they’re not here.
I speed up. If this place is really as far away from the village as Canada is from Mexico, then it doesn’t matter how fast I walk. I won’t get there for months. But I can’t think like that, because it just brings more darkness. And I sure don’t need that. I’ll assume that this different landscape is due to some quirk of the planet that I didn’t know about. After all, how far can a dragon fly in one night?
Emptying my mind of thoughts, I realize I’ll have to take one day at a time.
One hour at a time.
One breath at a time.
One step at a time. Keep going. Enjoy the cool air. Enjoy the fresh scent of the not-pines. Enjoy the springy ground. It’s only a pleasant hike in the woods. People on Earth pay good money for things like this.
I send a glance behind me. Caronerax walks with eerily silent steps, not making a sound on the crunchy forest floor. Still keeping his distance, warily eyeing me.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was afraid of me. Probably not that weird — dragons are extremely powerful beings, but for some reason I was able to injure this one. For all I know, it might be his first injury. Like, ever. It might be the first time in his life he shed ichor.
Because of me.
I would be afraid, too, in that situation.
The thought perks me up. It’s better to be feared than to be totally harmless. At least it feels better. It puts me in a better posit—
“Oh fuck.”
The dinosaur looks so much like a smooth, bare cliff that I walk alongside it for several steps before the smell gets so strong I realize I’m close to something that’s alive.
I instinctively pull back from it, gracelessly falling on my butt in the process.
A gigantic, brown head on a quarter mile long neck swings around, bulging eyes looking at me from high above. It has a whole tree in its immense mouth, munching on the crown of it like I would on a twig of parsley.
The dino is beyond huge. It’s the size of a mountain, so much so that I thought it was one, even if it’s clearly lying down.
I’ve only seen these things from a great distance, and of course I’ve heard them at night, when their thousand-foghorn mating calls resonate through the jungle from miles and miles away.
The cavemen call it a bobont, from the noise its feet make when it walks.
The head is the size of a two-family house. It comes down to take me in. One immense eye comes so close it petrifies me with its intense scrutiny from thirty feet above. It’s like being examined by some kind of primitive god.
I was on edge already, but this is something else again and I consider sitting down, just to show the thing how harmless I am. I know these dinos are probably not dangerous to me, because they only seem to graze on trees and not girls. But the sheer size terrifies me.
As I watch, the huge head snaps up and I am forgotten.
Ah. The bobont has discovered Caronerax. He has a tendency to grab everyone’s attention.
He carelessly strolls up, and I can’t help but admire his calm. That dino is the biggest on Xren, with a presence I feel acutely down my spine. And it doesn’t make Caronerax flinch. If anything, he’s making the dino stiffen.
He halts beside me and pushes his luxurious tresses out of his face, peering up at the bobont’s head. “An obstacle,” he observes.
“A big one,” I respond, my throat dry and my voice not steady.
The bobont’s colossal eyes are focused only on him. The tree hangs forgotten from the corner of its mouth, not being chewed anymore. Some of the dinos are extremely sensitive to dragons, I heard. This is definitely one of them.
Caronerax lazily reaches up in the air with one fist, then in a sudden, explosive motion spreads all his fingers. “Boo.”
The bobont jerks backwards with its whole body, then uncontrollably keels over sideways away from us as it tries to get up on its legs. It hits the ground, making it tremble, then helplessly rolls over in slow motion, its immense bulk crushing trees like toothpicks while its endless neck curls and flexes to try to keep the head up. It fails, and the huge head hits the ground with a deafening crash and bounces back up, leaving a large clearing in the woods.
It’s the least elegant thing I’ve ever seen. The noise makes me clamp my hands over my ears as the bobont kicks its church tower-sized legs in the air to straighten itself. But no bobont was designed for this, and only when it’s able to use its humongous tail to help is it able to right itself. It stands there for a second, catching its bearings, head swaying.
Then it gets another glimpse of Caronerax, and the whole office-building sized creature gallops off, so ungainly and ridiculous it makes a running giraffe look like a limber ballerina by comparison. Its footsteps make the ground tremble and boom like a gigantic bass drum. I’m willing to bet no bobont has ever done this before.
It doesn’t last, either. It takes a couple of panicked paces before it settles down to a still panicked trot, directly away from us.
The biggest being on the planet escapes with an apocalyptic ruckus that they must be able to hear all the way over at the village, leaving a treeless trail of destruction like a gigantic tornado.
Caronerax scratches his chin. “Did I say something wrong?”
A small chuckle escapes me. I can’t help it. It’s all too much, and now I have the energy from the be
rries that may have been a little more fermented than I thought.
We both peer after the still wildly fleeing bobont, its neck flexing and flopping like a wild firehose, seemingly barely attached to the body as the gigantic, panicked dino flattens thousands of trees in frantic escape.
“Such a graceful creature,” Caronerax says drily, tilting his head in a parody of awestruck admiration.
Before I know it, I’m laughing so hard I have to support myself on my knees, tears running down my face.
In the distance, the bobont trips on something and tumbles forwards, completely uncontrolled and still so slowly it looks like an action replay. The front of the body scrapes up a giant wave of rocks and soil, while its head and neck powerlessly sweep along the ground behind it in an arc the size of a football stadium, sending a shower of trees and dirt flying.
“A true king of the woods,” Caronerax solemnly declares.
I collapse again, howling with mirth.
It doesn’t take me too long to regain control — the situation is still precarious at best, and I’m here with a murderer.
The bobont gets back to its feet and lumbers away, now at a safer pace.
“Very graceful,” I finally gasp, wiping tears off my face. “He must have an appointment somewhere else.”
“He must,” the dragon shifter agrees.
For a split second, our eyes meet, and there’s an almost friendly little smirk on his heart-stoppingly beautiful face.
To my astonishment, that tiny moment makes a small wave of joy swell in my chest.
Caronerax straightens. “And so do we. More or less. Keep going, little Jennifer.”
I collect myself, take a couple of deep breaths, and concentrate on not laughing more.
Then I keep walking south.
Hey, he’s using my name now. That has to be progress.
And I kind of like the way it sounds in that deep voice of his.
5
- Caronerax -
Her behind sways enticingly in front of me, and there is definitely a swelling in my crotch.
Oh my, that feminine roundness awakens my lust.
She doesn’t have the feel of a killer. Where is the cool eye, always evaluating where best to stick the blade? Where is the hatred, the calculating tension for a moment when I might lower my guard?
Certainly, no slayer would bend double in laughter with a dragon present.
My hand goes to my chest. That piece of nastiness in there… is it possible she didn’t know what she was doing? Or if she did, that I in fact scared her so much she felt compelled to fire her terrible weapon?
I suppose it doesn’t matter. She is a lesser being, and she injured a dragon. Drawing ichor! It’s sheer sacrilege.
And yet, I can’t bring myself to punish her. By all rights, she should be laying dead on the ground, in a sticky puddle of her species’ red blood.
I have let her live, from some bizarre, vague notion that she might help me heal.
And in fairness, she has offered to try.
“Stop,” I command.
She stumbles in her eagerness to comply, then stiffens, looking around warily.
I look down on her. “I have decided to allow you to attempt to heal the wound you inflicted. If you take this as a chance to injure me further, I will rip your fingers off. All of them. Slowly. One by one”
Her eyes are big and dark. I detect some relief in her, but no malice. This is all extremely puzzling.
“I will not hurt you,” she says eagerly. “I mean, I will have to touch the wound, and it will probably sting.”
“Let’s hope it won’t sting too badly,” I say with a warm smile. “Because you probably need those fingers for later.”
“I’ll have to gather the herbs,” she informs me.
I indulgently wave her away. “Then do so.”
For the first time in my life, I sit down on the ground in human form. It’s not an agreeable situation. It’s hard and cold and full of dry little needles from the trees above.
And still it feels good to rest. This pitiful form and all its weaknesses!
But the view is pleasant. Jennifer runs to and fro between various bushes and plants, not finding what she seeks. Her movements are not quite those of prey — she’s too focused, too deliberate. There’s no panic in her.
I have, of course, not met anyone of her exact species before, but I can’t help noticing how similar she is to my human form. If not for my vibrant colors, some would guess we were of the same planet.
Perhaps that similarity is why her presence keeps creating a pressure in my groin, stretching the fabric of my pants. She is remarkably attractive.
In a flash I realize why. Her entire air, her being, her health — she was reared on a prosperous planet. That would also explain her ability to not cower — she’s not used to it, it’s foreign to her.
I wonder where her planet lies and what conquests and plunder it might offer to an enterprising dragon like myself.
She finally hurries over to me, little hands clutching bundles of leaves and twigs. “How are you feeling?”
“Sick and impatient,” I truthfully state. “Now, less interrogation and more healing.”
“It’s rare to see a dragon sitting down,” she offers as she kneels beside me and starts churning the leaves to a green paste between two rocks. “That’s why I asked.”
I see no reason to reply. The little female finishes the grinding. The leaves are now a thick, fibrous paste with a strong scent, not at all unpleasant. It might be poison, but I doubt it.
She shows me one slender finger with the tip coated in green. “I will be as gentle as I can. Tell me if it stings.” Stroking the finger in a circle around the injury, she rubs it on the skin that covers my scales. “Okay so far?”
I grunt in response. Her touch is soft, barely perceptible.
“I’ll go closer to the wound.” The circle becomes a small spiral, and the mild pressure of her finger sets off another wave of pain down the arm and through my chest.
I clench my teeth — not so much from the pain itself as from the realization that her light ministrations shouldn’t feel like that. This human body of mine is very, very sick.
“I can’t tell if there’s anything in there. I’ll press harder,” she says, “so the wound might suck some of the paste into it. It is going to hurt. Tell me if it’s okay.”
A groan escapes me. It stings. Not the paste itself, but the poisoned fragment inside me.
“Sorry,” Jennifer says, but she doesn’t stop. “It’s just that the tissue looks really inflamed. It’s hard to tell, though. I’m not used to dealing with blue skin. Is there a story behind that, by the way? The blue and the yellow? I’ve never seen that on any dragon. Only on the cavemen.”
I have an impulse to throw her off me, to punch her chin and crush her face. She did this!
But her gentle moves on my skin have no malice in them, no intent to hurt. In a way, it would be easier if they did and she was knowingly smearing poison on me.
“Cavemen?” I inquire between clenched teeth. “Do you mean the slayers?”
She gets more paste on her fingertip and smears it onto me in a thick layer in an area the size of her palm. “They have stripes. It looks nice. But none of them have blue skin.”
I ponder the futility of trying to explain that of course my colors have significance. Any dragon would know it, certainly. “I see. Are you about to finish?”
I don’t necessarily want her to stop. While the pressure is painful at times, her touch is gentle and feminine and pleasant. I think back, trying to remember if I have ever been touched in that way before. I don’t think I have.
“Done.” She rocks back on her haunches and takes in her work, then reaches out and sweeps a superfluous speck of green off one scale. “I can’t guarantee it’ll work, but it will certainly do no harm.”
“It better not,” I grunt, getting to my feet before this delectable female bewitches me further. Let
ting her touch me is sheer lunacy. She’s the one who brought me this low in the first place. She lives with slayers, for Gold’s sake.
But it’s probably worth a try. She inflicted the injury, hence there is some logic in having her attempt to heal.
If not… well, the reckoning is drawing nearer, anyway. I don’t actually need this female. At some point, I will take from her all she can offer. Then I’ll be unencumbered as well as avenged.
“Let us continue.”
6
- Jennifer -
I grab my not-fishing rod and follow Caronerax’s broad back. I guess he’s walking in front now.
That could also be a good sign, of course. If he feels safe enough to turn his back to me, then I suppose—
He stops and waves me past. “Ladies first.”
So much for that. But hey, he forgot himself for a few seconds. He’s not that afraid of me anymore. That could be good.
It could also be less good. There’s no way to tell right now.
I continue through the endless pine woods for several hours. Thankfully I don’t have to go that fast — Caronerax lets me set the pace. This would be pretty tough on my body back on Earth, but almost three years on Xren has done wonders for my stamina.
I try to stick to high ground while also walking as straight south as possible. That way, my view is better, both of the surrounding landscape and of any nearing threats.
Reaching the top of the six thousandth gentle hill I’ve climbed today, I notice there’s a lot of reflected sunlight between the trees.
I point. “I think there are some lakes ahead. Or just one, maybe. A really big one.”
Caronerax stops, pushes hair out of his face and squints. “Then we shall walk through them.”
“Um. Through?”
“We will traverse them in whichever way is convenient.”
I scratch my chin. “I think maybe the best thing would be to walk around them. That’s the only way, probably.”
The dragon’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “Around? Surely, that will make the walk longer.”
I tip a handful of not-currant berries into my mouth. “Yeah. Much longer. You don’t mean you’re going to swim?”