Chapter Fourteen. When You Introduce a Six-Ton Dragon to Your Nemesis
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHEN YOU INTRODUCE A SIX-TON DRAGON TO YOUR NEMESIS
FARREN
When James came to live with us, there was a moment I thought, this is the worst place I could ever imagine a Murphy. I was wrong. James standing outside Nity’s cave is the worst place he could be.
“Don’t move. Eyes down,” I yell over the thunder of the storm and Nity roaring her displeasure. James does what he’s told and still Nity rises, neck stretching. She’s scared beyond belief at the intrusion. For the first time, her glittering gold floods me with fear instead of awe.
I rush toward James, no time for further instructions, explanations, or warnings.
I have to get in between them now or it will be too late.
With my momentum, I slam into James with a wet smack and he catches me.
One moment I’m stuck on how warm and solid he is, hands clutching my upper arms to stabilize me, and the next I’m spinning with an open palm raised to face Nity.
She’s right there, her breath like puffed steam as she huffs at my inconvenient placement.
Some part of her doesn’t want to kill me though. Thank god.
I thought she liked and trusted me, but then again, you never know when I’m very much food-sized and she is still very much an apex predator. When she huffs again in anger, I speak. “It’s okay sweet girl. It’s okay. We’re here to help.”
At the entrance of the cave, a flash of lightning illuminates the cascade of spiked plates arching along her back.
She’s actually friendly, but all that joyful personality is contained in the body of a monster.
Fangs peek over her jaws in a bad overbite.
Natural black scales cover her, so big and so sharp I don’t know if she could be rideable even with a saddle.
Right now, she’s doused in gold though, even more startling and wondrous.
“Farren,” James whispers behind me, his voice laced with terrified astonishment. But I can’t calm James. All my attention must be on Nity if I’m to get him out of this alive.
“He’s a friend,” I tell her. That’s a bit of a lie. “He won’t harm you.” That’s a fact because if he so much as thinks about it, I’ll let Nity end him.
Nity steps forward, a tremor of muscled power.
James is only the fifth human she’s ever met.
She barely tolerated Jeffrey. Plus, this is the least optimal time to make introductions.
She’s worried beyond belief and basically yelled for help twenty minutes ago.
So, I need this to be effective and quick.
Plan B. I backstep to Murphy … and hug him.
James jolts under my touch.
“Stop,” I whisper. “Let me hug you.” I don’t like it any more than you do, I want to add, but I think that’s implied.
Nity tilts her head, weighing her trust of me against her suspicion of James. The goose bumps rising along my neck don’t like those odds.
I keep hugging James Murphy. Something I never thought I’d do again after that hallway incident at the dragon track. And it’s an actual hug too. Because I can’t go half-assed with a Rimback breathing down our necks. I was correct before; he is very solid.
“Head down. No eye contact. Slow breaths,” I instruct.
“Okay.” His reply tickles the shell of my ear. His heart races, pounding against my chest.
“Try not to be scared.” I don’t mention that Nity will be able to smell it.
“I’m not scared.”
Sure.
Behind us Nity bows her head to our level to get a good look at us. It’s odd for me too, old girl, I want to tell her. When Nity nudges my back, I pull away from James and rub her nose. She relaxes. Scales shift downward and against her skin. More importantly they return to midnight black.
“Nity, this is James.”
I grab James’s hand. He’s smart enough to offer a smooth palm to her. When Nity presses her nose against his fingers, the atmosphere seems to sigh in relief. The rain not pounding the cliffs as hard. A six-ton dragon letting down her guard.
“And James. This is Nity.”
He watches Nity tuck herself back to the main part of her nest, in the corner where darkness and heaps of golden scales coincide.
“Nice to meet you,” James says, voice still sliced in confused wonderment. “Walsh, that’s really a—” His eyes widen as he looks past Nity to what she guards. “Are those her eggs?”
I glance back at the three eggs cushioned in hay, sparkling gold. One trembles again, violently.
“They are. Since you’re here the least you can do is help.”
“Help?” James’s gaze drops from Nity’s teeth and talons back to those vibrating eggs. “They’re hatching,” he says, his voice reverent.
“Not quite.” I hurry toward the nest. “They are struggling.”
Nity roars in distress at our approach. This time it reads more as a plea and less a warning.
“Oh my god. The storm. Your dad, he—”
“My dad isn’t coming. It’s only me.” I wait a half beat before conceding to the real truth. “Only us.”