Chapter 12 #3
The look of disgust that crosses Vyrathion's face is immediate. "Only such insanity would explain his increasingly irrational behavior."
"It was meant as a compliment."
"It didn’t sound like one. Perhaps you have the wrong idea about what a compliment is."
I laugh quietly, and to my surprise the dragon doesn't seem entirely displeased by the sound.
Outside, lightning flashes through the rain and briefly turns the river silver. The floodwater races around the island carrying branches, debris and occasionally entire trees. Every time I look out there, the current seems faster than before.
"We're really stuck here, aren't we?"
Vyrathion follows my gaze."You are, certainly. For the moment."
"And if the rain doesn't stop?"
He frowns up at the ceiling of piled branches. "Do you think it won’t?"
I glance at him. "It usually stops. Sooner or later."
"How much later?" he asks with a hint of thoughtfulness.
"In the jungle? Storms usually stop after a few hours. Sometimes they go on."
He nods. “The rain isn’t a problem for me, other than as humiliation, which is bad enough. Nor is the river. I could walk from here to the shore on the bottom. It would be immensely degrading and horrific, but I could.”
“Because you don’t need to breathe. Not really.”
He shakes his head. “Your kind has all these needs. Air. Shelter. Food. Water, but not too much water. I only have one need.”
I nod. “Gold.”
“Yes.” He glares out the opening at the dark rain outside, mutters something under his breath about spells and returns his attention to the storm.
“I hope you’ll stay,” I say. “Even if you can leave anytime you want.”
He doesn’t reply.
For a while silence settles over the shelter again. It's not an uncomfortable silence. That's what surprises me most.
When I first met Vyrathion, every conversation felt like a negotiation with a dangerous animal. Now we can sit together without speaking, listening to rain hammer the leaves that make out the roof while the river rages around us.
The realization should probably concern me. Instead it feels strangely natural. Perhaps that's why it takes me so long to notice how close we're sitting.
The shelter doesn't allow much personal space. At first I'd been too tired and wet to think about it. Now that everything has calmed down, I become aware of details I'd rather not notice. The warmth coming from him.
The steady rhythm of his breathing, which he doesn’t really need.
The scent, dry and spicy and perfectly male. The hair, golden and shiny, even now.
Everything about him feels larger than life. Larger than the shelter. Larger than the island. Larger than the storm itself.
And somehow we're sharing the same cramped space.
I shift my legs, trying to get comfortable. My shoulder brushes his arm. The contact lasts only a moment, but for some reason it feels much longer.
I focus very intently on the opposite wall and it becomes a remarkably interesting wall.
Beside me, Vyrathion shifts as well. When I risk a glance in his direction, I discover that he's looking at me. His eyes drift toward me, then away again. Each time they linger a little longer.
The pattern repeats often enough that eventually I can't ignore it anymore.
For several minutes I pretend not to notice while trying to determine what he's thinking. That turns out to be impossible. Understanding Vyrathion is like trying to understand a thunderstorm.
Finally I turn. "Vyrathion, why do you keep looking at me?"
His expression immediately becomes neutral. "I am not looking."
"I think you are."
He tilts his head. "I’m simply observing you."
"See, that's just a longer word for looking."
He considers that for a moment. "Looking lacks purpose. It’s casual. Brief. Observation is intellectual. Yes, I’m observing you. I have not caught you using any more spells. Nor do you seem to chant magical rhymes or drink potions. You’re behaving almost like a real servant."
Before I can say anything else, movement catches my eye beyond the entrance. At first I think it's another tree being carried downstream.
Then lightning flashes. The shape beneath the water is moving against the current.
My smile disappears immediately.
"It's still here."
Vyrathion follows my gaze without any visible surprise.
"Perhaps not as smart as I first thought. Well, it knows what to expect if it comes any closer."
The creature surfaces again several moments later. Only part of its back breaks the surface, but that's enough. Jagged ridges cut through the muddy water before vanishing again beneath the flood. A few seconds later its eyes appear above the current and stay there, staring right at me.
The shelter suddenly feels much smaller.
Watching that immense predator circle through the storm, I become painfully aware of how isolated we really are. The river has trapped us. The weather has trapped us. And now something beneath the water appears willing to wait as long as necessary.
Without consciously deciding to, I move a little closer to Vyrathion, to his strength and safety.
For a moment neither of us speaks. His arm rests lightly against mine. He doesn't move away. Neither do I.
Outside, thunder rolls across the jungle while the monster circles patiently through the floodwaters. Inside the shelter, the space between us seems to disappear one inch at a time.
And neither of us appears particularly eager to reclaim it.