He had to eat to survive this hell, but eating made everything more hellish. The creature limped past his dung pile, seething. Scheming.
Change of Plans
Lovina’s broken fingers were aching. Strange, she hadn’t noticed the pain over the last few days unless she moved them, and here she was, cramped in a saddlebag, not moving at all and they were throbbing. She raised her good hand. Come to think of it, so were her fingers on this hand. Her digits curved inward slightly, toward her palms. She’d probably strained them fighting Bill. But both hands? Maybe it was from being cramped in the same position for so long.
Tomaaz glanced down. “We’ll stop soon so you can stretch your legs. Are you hungry?”
“If you feed me more, I’ll burst.” She wasn’t used to eating so much, but from what she’d seen, Tomaaz could pack away an entire ox and still be hungry.
Lovina tried to shift, but cramps ran through her feet, her toes were stiff, and she was bone-tired. Weary in a way she hadn’t been for years, despite no longer being under the influence of numlock. It must be the strain of the last few days. Or of the last eight years. Now that she was safe, perhaps her body was letting go.
She’d let go emotionally too. She’d never thought she could trust so fast, but Tomaaz had eased his way into her heart.
Hopefully he’d be around a while, not like all the people she’d loved and lost.
Although the trees whisked by beneath them, she barely saw them as her memories rose to the surface, finally freed from the grip of numlock and terror of fighting to survive.
Ma’s face flashed before her, clutching her littling brothers as tharuks had dragged them from their home. They’d been reunited with Da as the entire village was driven over the Terramites, lashed by tharuk whips. Da’s words now rang in her mind, “Keep walking straight ahead. Don’t look to the left or right. Don’t stand out and you’ll have a better chance of surviving. And always have hope: one day you’ll escape.”
It was advice he hadn’t followed. When his littlings had been whipped, he’d fought tharuks tooth and nail, grabbing their whip for himself and lashing a beast until he’d been pulled off and put to death. The last time Lovina had seen him, tharuks had hacked his hands off, then dragged his dead body to the flesh pile. Ma had hidden Lovina’s face and the faces of her brothers in her skirts. But Lovina had peeked.
Tears slid down her cheeks.
And so it had been. Her brothers died too, then her mother, then all the settlers she’d known from Monte Vista. She’d become a nameless slave in a sea of lost people.
§
After two nights in the cave with Lovina, Tomaaz had forgotten about his flight sickness. But the flight sickness hadn’t forgotten him. The moment Liesar had left the ground, his head had spun and his stomach had lurched. Thinking food might help, he’d eaten until he was stuffed, but that had made things so much worse.
The alps seemed just as far away as they had this morning. His nausea and dizziness made trees seethe, as if they were rising and falling beneath him. He clutched the saddle’s pommel, battling a wave of nausea.
The sky was tinged with pink. A least it would be dark soon, and then he wouldn’t be able to see as much. Hopefully they’d stop for a few hours of decent sleep.
“Not a fan of flying?” Lovina was awake again.
Tomaaz clenched his teeth, swallowing. “I’d rather walk.”
“Then you’d never get to Dragons’ Hold.”
“I’m not sure I want to go.” He gestured at Liesar. “I mean—”
“Feeling sick every time I rode a dragon wouldn’t really inspire me to be a rider either. Although, you must want to see your sister.”
Her last few words were wistful. All of her family had been killed in Zens’ slave camps in Death Valley. “Yes,” he said gently. “I’d love to see my sister.” He took her good hand, rubbing his fingers across the back of it. “What about you?” It suddenly mattered what she wanted. His stomach lurched, and this time it wasn’t from dragon flight, but from the fear of losing her.
She pulled her hand away, wincing. “My hands. They’ve been sore, cramping today, and now my calves are spasming. I think I need to stretch.”
Tomaaz laid his hand on Liesar’s hide. “Liesar, we need to stop for Lovina.”
“Tell her I’ll land when the trees thin out.”
When Tomaaz relayed the message, relief washed over Lovina’s face.
He’d have to watch her—she was obviously in more pain than she was letting on.
§
Tomaaz awoke, snuggled next to Lovina, with Liesar’s wing draped over them. The night had started out differently. Pa had been next to Handel, Lovina next to Liesar, and he’d been on a bedroll in the open space between the two dragons. However, the moment Pa was snoring, he’d ducked under Liesar’s wing to curl up against Lovina’s back. There was no point in her having nightmares if he could alleviate them.
They’d both slept soundly all night.
Nearby, Pa was up.
Oh well, no point putting off the awkward moment. Tomaaz rested his hand on Liesar’s belly. “Thank you for sheltering us.”
“Any offspring of Marlies’ is welcome to sleep under my wing.” A tinkle sounded in his mind, like a clear high bell—she was laughing. “And their friends, of course.”
Somehow, the word friend had a whole different meaning when Liesar pronounced it like that. Tomaaz’s cheeks flushed hot. Liesar lifted her wing.
Pa’s eyes swept over him, taking in his glowing cheeks, his arm draped over Lovina’s hip, their proximity.
Well, Pa could think what he wanted.
“Are you two hungry?” Pa asked, holding out bread and sliced apples.
Tomaaz
