Chapter Eleven
Eleven
In the great scrolls, the ones full of heroism and beautiful broad-chested men and deeds of valor, danger is often very glamorous.
The heroes have plenty of time to think and plan and say devastatingly romantic things, all with a tasteful smear of blood and sweat (but not too much) across their faces.
Juniper, however, found it was just mostly—loud. And sweaty.
And his brain moved as slow as honey dripping from the comb, because it took him several long moments of dodging both arrows and balls of fire to realize they were following Bear’s blazing trail through the forest.
“Mo,” Juniper gasped. He tripped over a root, reaching for the hand he knew would catch him.
Mo did, and yanked Juniper up, not saying a word.
They were faster than Bill’s party—their armor likely slowed them down, thank Divona for something, at least—and the shouts and clamor and arrows were further behind, at least.
“Mo,” Juniper managed. “Why are we running after the dragon who just tried to set us on fire?”
Mo didn’t break stride. Not for a moment. “We have to help her,” he shouted back.
Oh, for Divona’s sake.
Juniper could shout Mo’s name again, or he could…keep running, because Mo was certainly not about to stop.
There was still chaos in the forest behind them: the sound of men yelling and running, the clank of swords, the thunder of— Ah, of course Bill and the prince would catch up eventually; they had horses.
Juniper and Mo were racing down the narrow footpath they had walked this morning, which was muddier now and slick with the rain, but what were they to do? Stop and pick up every bit of cheese that fell from the top of Juniper’s pack as they ran?
Yes, a little voice inside him begged.
They ran farther into the forest, leaving the cheese behind, still hand in hand.
“This way!” Mo yelled at Juniper, as if Juniper had any choice in the matter when Mo was making those long strides and hauling Juniper along as if he were a child.
They rounded a bend in the trees, the path winding along a steep ravine with a river at the bottom, rushing along sharp rocks. That would be a nasty fall—but it would also be almost impossible to navigate this path on horseback, so at least they had that going for them.
“Bill hates cardio,” Juniper announced breathlessly. He wouldn’t want to pursue them down here, though Juniper realized as he said it that he was far too breathless to add any context. Besides, if he had breath to talk, it should be to tell Mo—to tell Mo—
“Down here,” Mo grunted.
Juniper followed blindly as Mo pulled him off the narrow path and into the thickest part of the forest. A moment later, a large boulder blocked their path, and Mo dropped to the ground, pulling Juniper with him.
“Under here,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “There’s a small cave. I passed it this morning while I was exploring.”
“Oh, goody,” Juniper said, hitting the muddy ground with a thump. “It looks like a badger cave.”
He wanted to say, We have no business in a badger cave, Morn Elmthorn, and even less chasing down a murderous baby dragon.
But Mo, bless him, did not appear to be terribly interested in listening to Juniper about quest details.
So all Juniper said was:
“I’ve always wanted to share a woodland cave with a dirty animal that wants to bite me.”
Mo grunted impatiently and crawled into the little black gap beneath the rock.
This was quite possibly the worst thing that had ever happened to Juniper. Worse than kicking his pants into a blazing abyss. Worse than accidentally lying to a prince. Worse than having to leave his farm to begin with.
He was on a quest (gross), he was afraid (ew), and he had to crawl on his stomach into a small, dirty space where an animal lived? In this economy?
An arm reached from beneath the rock and yanked Juniper forward.
Juniper’s head bumped against the rock as he was half dragged, half crawling into the space below the rock. He pulled his pack in behind him, squashing it as he did so.
Once they were inside, it was actually…well, not as bad as Juniper had been expecting.
It was taller inside than it looked from the outside, with enough space for both of them to sit up without bumping their heads (though Mo had to hunch just a little bit).
There was a cozy bed of leaves, probably belonging to the badger that would sooner or later come back and try to bite them for invading its space.
But no prince would crawl under a rock, so they were probably safe.
“You okay?” Mo asked him.
It was dark, but there was enough light from the gap under the rock for Juniper’s eyes to adjust, and that was almost worse.
Because there Mo was, warmth and worry in his dark brown eyes, his face cast in shadow, his broad shoulders outlined against the cave wall, staring at Juniper like he was the only person on the continent.
“I’m okay,” Juniper managed. “You? He was pointing that sword at you for a long time. I’m sure if we just explained—”
“I’m okay,” Mo said. “And we did explain, Junebug. It’s wrong to hunt children, and he didn’t care. But we know that—he’s a prince. He doesn’t care if—”
His voice cut off abruptly.
Outside of the rock, footsteps were getting closer.
“I know they came this way,” a nasally voice was saying.
Bill, predictably.
“I saw them, too.” A much calmer voice. Phteven, maybe.
“Honey, I’m sure it’ll be all right. We’ll catch up with them by nightfall, if that’s what the prince thinks is the right move.
Though I think our time would be better spent if we continued after the dragon.
Though do you think there’s any chance those two are right? About it being a shifter child?”
“Honey?” Juniper mouthed at Mo, who held his finger to his lips.
It was surprising that anyone could tolerate time spent with Bill, particularly someone as levelheaded as Phteven.
Bill’s complaints faded as they kept walking, his voice as whiny as ever, but the sound of footsteps went farther and farther away until Juniper stretched his limbs.
“We should get out of here,” he said. “Go find somewhere to set up camp for the night, regroup, eat something. Heavy on the eat something.”
“And make a plan for finding Bear and keeping her away from those mercenaries,” Mo said, as if of course they were going to do that and it had been the plan all along. “We can ask her if she has any remaining family and see if we can get her safely to them.”
“What?” Juniper blurted loudly. “You’re serious about that.”
Mo smacked his arm. “Shh,” he said. “The prince’s party could still be close by, or even waiting around to see if we’ve hidden somewhere.”
“Mo, you can’t think we can do anything,” Juniper said. “She didn’t want our help! She tried to set us on fire! What in Divona’s name are we supposed to do about an angry little dragon?”
Mo leveled him with a look that made Juniper want to squirm and crawl out of his skin and maybe die. Or hide himself in Mo’s arms, bury his face against Mo’s soft wool shirt so he wouldn’t have to see the disappointment in his best friend’s face.
“Didn’t you try to set old Dame Wallis on fire when she tried to help you?” Mo asked pointedly, scooting farther over in the little cave so that he was not crowding Juniper quite so much. “And we have to help her. Nobody else is going to.”
A blush climbed up Juniper’s face, and not just because he’d been thinking about kissing Mo. Or because Mo’s knee had been touching his.
“I didn’t try to set Dame Wallis on fire,” Juniper protested in a whisper. “She startled me when I was stealing some ale, and it’s not my fault she was so nice about it. I didn’t know she was going to offer to help me when I set the shed on fire!”
“Bear needs our help,” Mo said. “That’s my point. Do you agree?”
“Well, I don’t disagree, but—”
“So we’ll find her,” Mo said.
As if that was all there was to it, and Juniper’s only job was to nod his head and agree with Mo’s plan and not offer any of his own feedback. Which was horseshit.
Mo tilted his head, staring at Juniper for a long moment. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “They didn’t hurt you?”
“No,” Juniper said wearily, leaning back against the cold stone and letting out a breath. Truthfully, he had stopped being scared the moment he’d seen the panic in Mo’s face and realized he was going to have to step up. “After Bear sent that fireball at me, you looked—”
“I’m okay.” Mo’s face shuttered, and he shook his head again. “I was always fine.”
“Oh,” Juniper said. “Yeah, you seemed fine and very chill about it. Not at all scared of something that would be super normal to be scared about, like a great wall of fire coming at your head.”
Mo scowled. “It was coming at your head,” he said.
Oh.
Oh.
It hadn’t occurred to Juniper that Mo could have been afraid on his behalf.
“What are we supposed to do if we find Bear?” Juniper asked. He wasn’t about to like this answer. That much he knew, just from the look on Mo’s face.
He looked like he did whenever he told grand stories of adventure and heroism. Just like he had when he set off from their farm ten winters ago to find glory and story without Juniper.
“We’re going to convince her to trust us,” Mo said. “It won’t be hard. She’s a scared child, and we both know what that was like. You especially.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m serious,” Mo said, his tone hardening like ice over the surface of a lake. “Get serious about something for once, Juniper.”
Juniper’s spine stiffened. You know what happened to people who took things seriously?
Their best friend left them cold on the steps of a farmhouse they’d built together.
So no, thank you, he was not about to get serious.
Get serious meant get hurt. Besides, they had encountered a dragon.
Twice. Wasn’t that enough serious shit for one person to handle at a time?