Almost imperceptibly at first, it started beating in slow, booming pulses. It sucked in the black blood and pumped out a new, bright, yellow-green liquid. Whatever the hell it was, it definitely wasn’t blood.
I had the sensation of my stomach lurching up into my mouth as I was hurled with massive force out of the lizard’s innards and back into myself.
“Holy fuck that was weird,” I gasped, staggering back.
A great groan rumbled through the lizard’s corpse, then its limbs twitched a couple of times before all of its muscles seemed to spasm at once, clenching tight and then relaxing over and over, as if they were slowly learning how to function again. Finally, the creature’s eyes opened. But they were no longer the dark-brown eyes of a reptile. Now, they shone through the dying darkness with that same yellow-green glow.
The huge lizard got up, stretching its body out slowly and looking around in what had to be confusion. Then it caught sight of me, and for one frankly terrifying second, I thought it was about to break into a charge and come at me with its jaws open wide. But instead, it rumbled softly, waddled over to me, its tongue flickering in and out of its mouth like a snake’s, and stopped in front of me. There, it slowly lowered its head to the ground like an obedient lapdog.
I hadn’t often felt as powerful I did in that precise moment.
Some lapdog this thing was: four or five tons of muscle, steel-proof armor, monstrous claws and jaws, and a spiked tail that looked like it could batter down a small house in the blink of an eye. The huge lizard was staring at me with curious glowing eyes, when I suddenly recognized that look.
“I’m gonna call you Fang,” I said without a moment’s hesitation.
The look I’d seen in this giant man-eating zombie-lizard’s eyes was the same one my loyal childhood dog Fang had given me whenever he’d lay down with his paws at my feet. Fang’s eyes had been warm and brown and dripping with affection and innocence, whereas this lizard’s eyes were glowing an unnatural hue of green and looked terrifyingly soulless. Still, I recognized a look of devotion when I saw it, and the name “Fang” really seemed to suit him.
“I’m gonna get on your back now, Fang,” I said.
Fang let out a raspy grunt that I interpreted as meaning “All right, I’m cool with that.”
I climbed warily up onto Fang’s neck, and he gave no indication that he felt uncomfortable or that he was going to buck me off, so I got myself into a comfortable spot just behind his shoulders and settled in for what would be an interesting ride.
I wasn’t sure whether he understood my words or was simply reading my intentions in the way that the skeletons seemed to, but I could feel some sort of invisible bond between us. In any case, I wasn’t going to need reins. I visualized my campsite and thought unambiguously about going straight there. That turned out to be all I needed to do. With a rumbling growl, Fang set off at a brisk walk in the direction of the camp.
Now, I’d ridden plenty of horses before, from the biggest and most expensive warhorses down to lame old hacks, as well as mules, a water buffalo once, a dire wolf kitted out with the battle tack of the northern barbarian tribes, and a trained giant racing snail. Riding Fang was nothing like riding any of those things.
First, when he moved, he swayed from side to side. I figured that anyone who was prone to seasickness would have a very bad time on his back. Second, the texture of his scales was kind of like a cobbled street that had somehow been wrapped around a gigantic cow. It actually gave a pretty decent massage to my stiff muscles, but I figured that I’d have to get a custom saddle made eventually. Lastly, there was his coloring. Most animals people rode had drab, earthy colors on their scales or fur, but Fang was bold red and jet black, with a blood-red head. I felt like I was riding a comet, a comet that just happened to be able to rip a man in half with a single bite of his jaws and kill the biggest warhorse in the blink of an eye with a lash of his tail.
“You’re gonna be quite the companion, Fang.” I leaned forward to scratch him on his scales behind his ear holes. I knew he wasn’t a dog, but it had been a while since I’d had a dog, or any pet really, so I was making do.
When we got to within 20 yards of the campsite, I ordered Fang to stop, jumped off his back, and told him to wait there, hidden behind tree trunks and thick foliage.
The sun was shining bright now, and the woods were alive with birdsong. As I had suspected, Elyse was awake. She had evidently washed her face and brushed her hair, because she was looking far fresher than she should, having finished off as much liquor as she had not too many hours ago.
“Morning, Vance,” she said cheerfully. “You sleep okay?”
“Well enough, but not as well you did,” I answered with a lopsided grin. “The way you were passed out, a cave troll who had just eaten a cartful of beans could have farted his way through the night, and you wouldn’t have stirred.”
Elyse locked eyes with me, and the corners of her mouth curled up into a mischievous smile.“Oh, I don’t know about that, Vance. It takes a lot less than a thunderous cave troll fart to wake me up. I mean, the sound
