Chapter 21 #2
“If you find gold - will I still be important to you?”
“That would depend on the circumstances,” he says airily.
One last try. I take a deep breath. “I understand that this is hard to accept. But it really is true that Praxigor doesn’t have a hoard. He has Astrid. He loves her. She is his hoard. It really is true. Didn’t you hear what he said? ‘She loves me, you see’ when he was referring to his hoard.”
“Yes, it was quite insulting that he’d try such an obvious ploy with another dragon,” Vyrathion seethes. “But I shall seek him out. It’ll be the first thing I do. I will find him and destroy him and seize his whole hoard!”
No, this is getting nowhere and I’m running out of time. “I’ll go to the girls. You’ll go get your gold.”
In two long strides he’s next to me, towering over me in all his terrible beauty and anger. “This is getting tedious. You are coming with me.” He reaches for my throat with one clawed hand, but stops two inches away, trembling fingers curled in the air. “Don’t draw a dragon’s fury!”
“I’m not afraid of you,” I tell him. “I know you will never harm me. I just want you to come with me and help the girls. You can get the gold later. I can help. The other girls can help! It’ll be easier!”
He stares me down for three heartbeats.
Then he turns on his heel. “No.”
He marches right into the jungle. Most of the Plood follow him.
For several seconds I remain where I am.
Vyrathion's broad back grows smaller as he strides through the jungle. Branches bend aside for him. Ferns sway in his wake. Around him the Plood stream forward in a silent procession, still clutching rocks and scraps of metal and bits of yellow debris as if they are treasures beyond price.
I keep expecting him to stop. The argument is over, but it doesn't feel over. Surely he'll notice that I'm really not following. Surely he'll look back and realize I've actually stayed behind. The farther he gets, the more absurd it seems that he would simply leave.
But he doesn't slow. The distance between us stretches steadily. Twenty paces becomes thirty. Thirty becomes fifty. Soon the jungle is already trying to hide him from view.
My chest hurts. The moment Clyde handed me that message, some part of me understood exactly where this was going.
The girls need help. Vyrathion needs gold.
Neither of us is choosing between good and evil.
Neither of us is being unreasonable. The problem is that we're choosing between two things that are both vital, and they're pulling us in opposite directions.
I wipe at my eyes and immediately feel foolish for it. "Idiot dragon," I mutter.
Ahead of me, Vyrathion reaches a fallen tree and steps over it. Then, unexpectedly, he stops.
Hope flares through me so suddenly that it almost hurts.
The Plood stop with him. The whole procession freezes. Even at this distance I can see the tension in his posture, the rigid line of his shoulders and neck. For a moment he stands completely still, and I find myself holding my breath.
Maybe he's reconsidering. Maybe he's finally realized that I mean it. Maybe he's coming back.
Slowly he turns his head. Not enough to look directly at me. Not enough to acknowledge me. He merely glances back toward the clearing as though confirming that it still exists.
Then he turns and walks on.
I watch him go. The trees close behind him one by one until there is nothing left to see except green shadows and hanging vines. Even then I keep staring at the place where he disappeared, half expecting him to emerge again with some sarcastic remark about my terrible decision-making.
He doesn't.
The clearing feels different without him. Smaller, somehow. Less secure. Dangerous. I hadn't realized how much space he occupied in my mind until he wasn't there anymore.
A rustling sound nearby finally pulls my attention away from the jungle.
Clyde is still standing beside me. So are perhaps twenty of the Plood. The rest followed Vyrathion. These remained.
They're watching me with those enormous black eyes, waiting with a patience that somehow feels stranger than any urgency would.
I look down at the piece of bark still clutched in my hand.
NEED HELP VRGENTLY
The crude letters make my stomach tighten all over again. Somewhere out there are five women who may have arrived on this planet the same way I did. Five women who are frightened enough to carve a desperate message into bark and hand it to a species they barely understand.
I think about Vyrathion disappearing into the jungle. I think about the girls waiting for help. Then I let out a long breath. "Okay, Clyde," I say. My voice wavers a little, but it holds. "Show me where they are."
Clyde immediately turns and waddles into the undergrowth. The other Plood follow him without hesitation.
I glance one final time toward the place where Vyrathion vanished. Part of me wants to run after him. Part of me wants him to come storming back out of the jungle and order me to follow him again. Part of me wants this morning to have gone differently from the beginning.
But wishing doesn't change anything. So I square my shoulders and follow Clyde into the trees.
Somewhere behind me, a dragon is searching for his gold. Ahead of me, five frightened girls are waiting for help.
For the first time since arriving on Xren, I have nobody beside me but a handful of alien creatures who think I'm their boss. And I don’t think this is going the right way.