“Yeah,” I said, glancing over my shoulder, “it sure seems that way.”
The path sloped steadily downward toward the beach, which meant the ladies of the village were out of sight. Enra was safely back with her people—her family—and I knew she’d be safe.
I had a million questions I wanted to ask Timo-ran, but Enra’s burly cousin didn’t strike me as the leader of the village. He was the equivalent of a squad leader, but he wasn’t the guy in charge. The best intel usually came from the higher-ups, so I saved my questions.
As we crested the last small hill, I found an answer to one of my questions about how the Ish-Nul protected their way of life.
Men gathered around a silver creature resembling a cross between the largest alligator I’d ever seen and a prehistoric fish. The men surrounded the dead sea monster, climbed on it, and hacked away with axes and knives. They were all of average height, which meant the fish-thing itself had to be at least 20 yards long and at least six yards tall and broad. Bright teeth as long as a man’s arm protruded from its top and bottom jaws. The pool of dark red surrounding the beast made it clear it was dead.
As we approached, a man dressed in all-black furs turned to regard us. His beard was longer than the others and was pure white. He walked toward us with a limp. We stopped when we were three feet apart.
Timo-ran didn’t speak, so neither did I. The old man looked between us for a moment, then stepped closer to me, reached out with a wrinkled hand, and began to inspect my clothing.
“Who is this?” the old man asked after he was done looking at the MSM symbol on my shirt’s right breast.
“He is called Jacob,” Timo-ran replied.
“And why is he here?”
I heard the smile in Timo-ran’s voice again when he answered, “Because he has brought Enra back to us. She is alive and well. He rescued her from the refinery.”
The old man dropped his hands to his sides and looked me in the eyes. “Is what Timo-ran said true?”
“Yes,” I said before the old man reached his arms up over my shoulders. He squeezed me in a tight hug, like I was an old, dear friend he hadn’t seen in a long time.
“You are welcome here, Jacob,” he whispered.
He held me for several more seconds while I wondered whether he intended on letting me go. When I was about to perform the customary “three pats on the back” so that he would release me, he suddenly dropped his arms and stepped back.
“Thank you,” I said, but his eyes weren’t on me anymore. Nor was he smiling. I looked to Timo-ran, and he was also staring in the same direction. At the village, no more than a hundred yards away.
I looked but didn’t see anything I recognized as a threat. Then I heard it.
A low, mournful howl struggled to our ears above the crashing of the waves.
The men who were taking the alligator-fish-thing apart stopped their work. All heads were turned toward the village.
In unison, the men began to sprint headlong toward their home. I had no trouble catching up to Timo-ran, who was running fast enough to blow his mustache back. His mouth was a savage sneer.
“What is it?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
“We’re under attack,” he said between breaths.
My stomach twisted into a painful knot as I wondered if what was happening was in retaliation for killing Enra’s captor and saving her. Or was it a result of killing all those vrak soldiers. Either way, I was almost sure someone had come for revenge, and the attack was my fault.
I poured on the speed. I would not allow others to suffer for my actions.
I hadn’t realized I could run so fast, but I passed the person blowing the horn so quickly, all I saw was a blur. I couldn’t even tell if the person was male or female.
I came to a skidding stop at the edge of the village a hundred yards ahead of the others and searched for the threat. I didn’t have to scan the area for long. All I had to do was watch the trees being knocked over by something huge in the distance. The sound of their trunks splitting and the thuds they made when they hit the forest floor was almost deafening.
Whatever was heading toward us wasn’t as simple as a carnivore or a focused unit of vrak soldiers. I hadn’t seen any large vehicles that could compare to tanks, or even land-fortresses like those the Federation had used in the last few wars. I’d seen no real indication of advanced tech, but that didn’t mean someone on the planet didn’t own anything like it.
Ishn-Nul women joined me, dressed in plates of armor over their furs. Each carried a weapon, mostly axes, and held a shield of scrap metal in front of them. Some had bows slung over their shoulders and quivers attached to their backs.
Shieldmaidens, ready to fight side-by-side with the men.
I regretted not having a weapon of my own, but it hadn’t stopped me before. I’d be ready for whatever came through the treeline. The threat to the village still caught me by surprise.
“What is it?” I asked the women, but none of them replied. They simply watched it approach with their weapons ready. I almost wondered whether I should ask them for a weapon, but then the giant monstrosity cleared the treeline.
It took almost a full second before I could make sense of what I was seeing.
It was a dragon.
Chapter Thirteen
The most outrageous Martian holovids starred, co-starred, or otherwise made dragons the center of the plot. There were variations based on culture and ancestry, but they all had a few things in common.
