Chapter 12 #2
Attor, on her left, shifted to lean a shoulder against the black trunk, as unreadable as ever. Skaldr sat on an enormous moss-covered log nearby, his broad shoulders hunched, looking one insult away from shifting and tearing Race limb from limb.
Only Koal, lounging on a collapsed trunk to her right, appeared well removed from the brewing storm, as though none of this bothered him in the slightest. He offered her a hint of warmth with his quick, boyish grin.
Ash pasted on a polite smile, gravitating toward the least dangerous option. “Room for one more?”
“Yes.” Koal shot up and, with playful chivalry, swept an arm as if the log were a throne. “Please sit before you give us all eye strain from gaping at you.”
Smiling at his teasing, Ash took the offered spot and set her backpack down.
As she straightened, the weight of four inhuman gazes pinned her in place. A lone human in a dragon staring contest—it made her feel like a moth just before the flames closed in.
She forced herself to ignore her unease, focusing instead on eating another bite of her overcooked, leathery meat as if it were the most delicious thing in the world.
“Skewers for breakfast?” Koal teased, crouching near her. “Is that to show the rest of us savages how first meal is supposed to be eaten?”
She snorted. “I can hardly go chasing after cereal, now, can I? One, the village is god-knows-where, and it’s doubtful dragons eat wheat. Two, I know you shifters like your food still moving and bloody.”
He laughed, raking back his sun-spun hair. “You got us there.”
“Anything that doesn’t twitch is civilized today,” Skaldr muttered, lightly tracing the edges of the ripped fabric wrapped around his wounded torso. It looked a lot like the tunic he’d worn yesterday.
“You’ve made your plea. My answer’s unchanged.” Race’s voice sliced like a blade, causing the tension to simmer again.
Ash frowned at his surliness.
“Did you lose all empathy?” Skaldr surged to his feet, hands fisted. “We don’t have the luxury of wasting time, Eracier.”
For god’s sake! Before claws started flying again, Ash shot to her feet. “I’m thirsty.”
“Allow me,” Koal offered, rising as well.
“No.” Race stalked over, planting himself between them. “She’s under my protection. Let’s go.”
Attor’s low murmur cracked the quiet. “All the more reason to let her breathe, Eracier.”
Dammit. They were going to argue about her, too?
Her spine straight, Ash met his irate stare. “Protection isn’t a leash, Race. I choose to go with Koal.”
“Ashaya—”
“No.” She flashed a hand, stopping him. Did he have to say her full name in that low, growly voice? The vexing dragon. “All I expect from you is to take me back to Earth.”
Ash picked up her backpack and turned to Koal. “Can we leave?”
He bowed and offered her his arm.
Still pissed with Race trying to keep her anchored at his side while keeping a vaulting pole between them, she gave Koal a brilliant smile and slid her hand through the crook of his arm.
“For a second there, I thought he would rip me apart,” Koal murmured, leading her between the massive bleed-cedars. Debris squelched under their boots.
“Yeah, well, he takes protection to apocalyptic levels. You know, being a Guardian and all.”
“Indeed.” Koal lifted a dewy bough so she could duck under it, and her boot skidded—
“Eeep!” Her arms pinwheeled.
“Easy there, ground-walker.” His hand clamped her elbow, and he steadied her. He grinned. “Can’t have wet moss taking you out. I’d rather keep my hide intact, or Eracier would hang it like a trophy. I saw the dead male and the smashed trees, by the way.”
Yeah, Race probably would, considering what he’d done to that rust dragon, and then to Skaldr.
“That dragon got wind of us and followed. He attacked, and Race killed him.” She sighed, brushing off star-like seeds from her clothes that the underbrush seemed determined to toss her way.
“It’s still strange to find out he’s in this line of work,” Koal said, tone thoughtful. “Back then, he laughed more, wasn’t anything like the granite statue I see now.”
“Back then?” Ash cast him a quick look. “What do you mean?”
His brows pulled in a vee as he led them through the dense underbrush.
“Back in the day, he was…” Koal twirled a finger, searching for a word. “Laid-back, let nothing bother him. But all that’s ancient history now.”
It made sense, she supposed. However, it still didn’t add up.
Why were they after him to help?
He was just one person. Or one dragon… She slowed her steps when it struck her that they were actually hiking through the dense forest.
“So, why are we walking?” she asked. “Can’t you dematerialize us from one place to another?”
He chuckled. “Dematerializing’s Eracier’s trick, being a Guardian and all. He’s blessed with more abilities than us poor ‘simple dragons.’” He air-quoted with talon-tipped fingers. “We, alas, must take to the skies to get to places faster. Hard to open a sixty-foot wingspan in a thick forest.”
Ash laughed, her breath curling white in the chill. The air carried a smoky-sweet undertone, like sun-warmed sap. Koal ducked beneath a drooping bough, its gray-green leaves brushing his golden hair.
“For the record,” she puffed, “none of you are simple. Your dragons are beautiful…when they aren’t trying to barbecue me, that is.”
He grimaced. “Our pardon, Ash. Skaldr’s mind, all of ours are occupied with getting our world back from Malcarion.” He patted the back of her hand where it rested on his elbow. “But you, little mortal, outshine any dragon. You’re flawless.”
Heat crept up her cheeks, part embarrassment, part the thin, high-altitude air. “Flatterer. So, how far is this stream?”
“Ten minutes, maybe.” He angled them along a game trail, damp moss squishing under their boots and releasing a green, loamy scent. “Though this high, the ‘stream’ is barely a ribbon. If you prefer, I could shift and fly you down to the lake.”
“What?” She nearly slipped on a slick stone. “Ride on your back?”
“My neck, technically.” His grin flashed with fangs, and she rolled her eyes at his teasing. Overhead, a hawk wheeled, its cry echoing off the dark cliffs.
“I’ll pass,” she said, brushing dew from her sleeve. “I’d rather not die in your world.”
“You wouldn’t. I’d catch you.” He nudged aside a curtain of fern fronds. “So…” His tone turned casual, but the word poised like a dagger. “How long have you known Eracier? How did you meet?”
She expected the question and still wasn’t prepared for the twisting of her gut. “Feels like forever.” She nudged a pebble off the path with her toe. “We…well, we ran into each other while I was…” Fleeing for my life. “…on holiday in his part of the world.”
Europe and Asia were all connected landmasses, weren’t they?
“So, you and he are…?”
With the memory of Race’s scorching kiss earlier imprinted on her mouth, she swallowed hard, then forced a smile and shrugged. “We’re just friends.”
“Oh, good.” Koal exhaled, fogging the air.
“Dragons are notoriously possessive. Threaten what they’ve claimed and—” He snapped taloned fingers, the sound crackling like ice.
“They maul first, think later. That black dragon, especially—stories still whisper his name all across Lemuria.” He scanned the trees, his nostrils flaring at every rustle. “Best for me to tread lightly.”
“No worries, Koal, you’re perfectly safe.” She smiled up at him. Koal was really sweet, like a big, happy puppy. “Race’s stubborn, but he’s not going to eat his own friend.”
“Friend?” His expression grew contemplative. “It’s been too many millennia. Time changes much, but some bonds…” He glanced back in the direction they came from, his jaw tensing. “We hope he sees that and remembers who he was before…”
“Before what?” she asked.
He shook his head. “It’s his story to share.”
Of course, he just had to be a dragon with principles.
They walked in silence. For the first time since stumbling into this dragon-ruled wilderness, her thoughts drifted to the life she’d left behind—her job, her volunteer work at the animal shelter, and the gossip-hungry locals because of who her ex was.
Now the memory tasted like someone else’s story, faint and faraway, almost dust-dry.
The sound of burbling water, faint yet clear, drifted to her. Koal pushed a dew-laden branch aside, then gestured ahead of them. “There.”
The forest thinned, revealing a ribbon-like stream, with mirror-bright pebbles visible on its bed. Water hissed softly over stone, and it was not as narrow as Koal made it out to be.
Grateful for the secluded spot, she glanced at him. “Is it all right if I wash up as well?”
“Yes, sure.” He nodded. “Ten minutes?”
“Make it fifteen. Where’ll you be?”
“Near enough to hear you call. I’ll hunt.”
Ash’s fingers tingled with her powers, and she flexed them, exhaling a plume of white breath. “All right. See you in fifteen—oh, and thank you for the berries.”
Koal nodded with a pleased smile and padded off, the branches sighing shut behind him. Silence settled, yet not quite—water babbled, a raven croaked in the distance, and the dull pop of ice crystals loosening under the sunlight echoed in the still air.
Better that than roaring dragons.
Ash took care of her needs first, the cold air nipping every exposed inch of skin. Ugh. Her sorry backside was officially done with the dragon realm and its lack of amenities.
She stripped and bathed, hissing as the icy water bit her skin. Teeth chattering, she scrubbed up fast, grateful for the lavender soap she bought in Nyxholt.
A few minutes later, wearing the clothes she’d purchased, she stuffed her things into her backpack and shouldered it.
“Koal?” she called out, her voice echoing off the dark trunks. “I’ve finished.”
Silence.
Worry crept through her as she eyed the dense shadows between the looming, utterly still bleed-cedars. The air grew heavier, as though the trees themselves held their breath.
Unease clawed its way up her throat. Did he leave her here on purpose? Another ploy to get Race to agree to their plans?
A twig snapped in the underbrush.
“Koal?” she yelled, her stomach churning. What if another dragon had caught her scent? The last one tried to capture and sell her.
A creature screamed.
She jumped, clutching the pack’s straps, her heart battering like it wanted out.
The air shifted, rippling in the shadows like an entity—
Her own scream tore free. “Koal!”