10. Jerrid #2
Ava shot him a startled look. “No one cares what you look like.”
Ouch, that stung. He was truly magnificent, and it rankled that the elf couldn’t—or wouldn’t—notice him.
Jerrid’s snide laughter rolled over him, heating the core of his gut where his fire dwelled.
“I’ll burn them both to a crisp,” Dragon rasped.
Jerrid’s laughter cut off abruptly, and Dragon smiled smugly.
“Are you talking to yourself?” Ava asked without looking up at him, but he could see the tension in her shoulders.
“No, I don’t make it a habit of talking to myself. I’m talking to him.”
Now her gaze did lift to meet his. “I would like to talk to him too. I don’t suppose you could…let him out?”
“Absolutely not. You’re trying to trick me again.”
Ava’s expression tightened. “I wouldn’t have to trick you if you were behaving reasonably. This girl is injured, and I need Jerrid’s help to save her. The only reasonable thing to do is let Jerrid out so that he can help me.”
“He’ll be naked…”
Her cheeks darkened as if he’d rubbed coal all over her skin. Oh, he liked it when these dark elves blushed. It was a beautiful thing indeed.
Are you falling in love with an elf? Jerrid’s incredulous thought exploded into his mind, and it made something akin to panic stir in Dragon’s chest.
“Of course not, you foolish human! She’s just tasty-looking. That’s the only reason I like her.”
Sure. I believe that.
Ava shot him a disapproving look. “If you like me so much, then you’ll let Jerrid come back to help me. That’s what friends do.”
“Are we friends?”
“I don’t know. Are we?”
Dragon pondered the question. He’d never had a friend before.
What about me?
“You don’t count. I’m stuck with you,” Dragon grumbled. “Meat Pasty, on the other hand… She could go away if she wanted to.”
He found himself growing very tired, very tired indeed. He was a little tempted to let Jerrid have control again…not because he wanted to be shoved back into the darkness, but so that he could watch and laugh from the quietness of the darkness.
It was peaceful there, in the back of Jerrid’s mind, almost like a cocoon.
And just like that, he drifted away…
Jerrid opened his eyes, staring up at the snarl of dark branches above him. Every bone in his body ached. What had Dragon been doing while he was in control? It felt like he had rolled down a cliff and beat himself with a giant hammer for good measure.
He groaned.
“Ah, so he let you come back.” Ava’s voice sounded stilted, almost embarrassed. “You best roll over and lie still until I find you something to, um, well… You’re going to need something.”
Heat flooded his face, and he shoved himself over. The damp grass and foul-smelling soil pressed against his feverish body. Blood and gore from the wyrm slicked his skin.
“Don’t worry. I’m not looking.”
He grunted. Not that he could do anything about it if she was looking.
Dragon snickered in the quiet of his mind, but it sounded weak.
He must have overexerted himself fighting that wretched wyrm.
Jerrid longed to get up and make sure that he had done the job right and proper…
but he didn’t dare move. Several long minutes passed before footsteps stirred the grass.
Ava walked toward him with a blanket from his satchel held up in front of her, her face hidden behind it.
“Don’t step on me,” he warned when she got close.
She stopped and hurled the blanket before turning quickly away.
She overshot a little bit so that the blanket fell over his lower legs.
But Jerrid reached back and snatched it up, quickly wrapping it around himself.
He cinched the top under his arms and tucked the end in to try and hold it in place.
When he turned around, Ava was seated beside Brynja again.
“Is she still alive?” Jerrid asked, moving to kneel beside them.
“Yes, and she’s coming around.”
A muscle twitched in the girl’s cheek, a pained sort of expression tugging at her face. Her hand lifted slowly to grapple with Ava’s fingers pressed against her head. At last, her eyes flickered open.
Her gaze collided with Jerrid’s. “What happened?”
He grimaced. “That rootwyrm gave you a beating, that’s what. She knocked you into a tree. You’ve got a bloody gash on your head. No, don’t try to pull away. Ava’s trying to stop the bleeding.”
Brynja’s mouth twisted as if she’d just tasted something foul. “I don’t need her help.”
“You’ll have it all the same if you want to make it back to your camp,” Ava said brusquely. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re going to need help getting home.”
Clearly, this didn’t make the girl happy. “What about the wyrm?”
“It’s dead.”
“And…was there a dragon? I seem to remember a dragon…” Uncertainty tainted the lass’s tone, and she stared hard at Jerrid in a way that made him squirm. “Why are you wearing a blanket?”
His cheeks heated as he exchanged a look with a smirking Ava. “My clothes, ah, got shredded. I’m going to need to borrow something. I haven’t anything left in my pack.”
“Didn’t you bring spare clothes?”
Jerrid hesitated, not wanting to answer that question because he knew she wouldn’t believe him.
“They got shredded too,” Ava said, a little too glibly.
She was enjoying this.
You’re right, Dragon whispered sleepily. I am beginning to like her…
“Do I even want to know why you keep destroying your clothes?” Brynja’s eyes rolled closed, and she winced again.
“Probably not.” Ava’s gaze lifted to meet Jerrid’s.
Something unspoken flickered over her expression—was it hesitation? Concern? Whatever the expression meant, it seemed conflicted. Was she planning to keep his secret?
He hoped so. And yet…he almost wished it was out in the open. He hadn’t meant to let Dragon out tonight.
Yet again, the blasted beast just exploded out of him when Jerrid was at his most vulnerable. He’d watched as the wyrm swung a leg and smashed Brynja into the tree. When her body had fallen lifeless to the ground, something inside him had snapped.
And that was when Dragon took advantage of him.
He was always in there, biding his time and waiting for the exact moment when Jerrid let down his guard so that he could come out and “play.” If only he didn’t play so rough…and threaten to eat people quite so often.
“We need to get her back to the clearing,” Ava said. “I left the boy alone with Echo. I don’t feel good leaving them alone for long. I shouldn’t have left them to begin with…”
“Then why did you?” Brynja growled.
Ava didn’t answer, but her gaze flicked to Jerrid, and then she looked away quickly. Almost as if she hadn’t meant to look at him at all. Which would only mean…
He had been the reason she left the boy.
Of course. She’d heard Dragon blundering about slaying wyrms.
Queenie. The Queen of Wyrms. A glorious kill… Dragon whispered. One for campfire songs and legend-telling.
Jerrid wouldn’t go quite that far.
Together they helped Brynja to her feet. She insisted on limping along on her own, cursing under her breath as she led the way back to the clearing. Ava followed silently behind him, her footsteps rustling through the dried leaves.
Around them, the forest remained silent, as if—
Paying homage to the glorious battle I have fought. I, Dragon of Haldor! The Fang Master! Lord of Scales!
Good grief. More likely all Dragon’s rampaging had simply scared away everything within miles.
That too. I’m very scary…
Jerrid shook his head as they stepped out of the shelter of the trees and into the clearing. Above them, the moon still shone bright white against the blue-black sky. The bonfire still raged in the center of the clearing.
But Jerrid’s heart stuttered in his chest.
Because Echo—and the boy—were gone.