“Wait,” Cyrus stammered, “Are you saying that Edward killed the dragon?”
“You did, did you not?” Fibian asked Edward.
“I don’t know what happened,” Edward finally said, “After the crash Ifound myself clinging to Drache. He was trying to killCyrus. I was terrified, and then I became angry. I lost my temper. I don’tremember much after that.”
“My guess is that the blodbad in you took over,” Fibiansaid, “You bit into his exposed scar tissue and killed him.”
“You killed a dragon,” Cyrus said, bewildered, “I never would have thought that possible.”
“I’m so sorry,” Edward started to cry, “I never wantedto hurt anyone.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Fibiansaid, “You saved our lives.”
Cyrus saw Edward in a whole new light. A killer. A hero. He owed him hislife. But Cyrus could not help the fear he felt.
“Am I evil?” Edward asked, his round eyes watery.
“No,” Fibian replied, “You are unique amongyour kind. Be proud of that fact, for even now, the Warrior Witch’s wrath worksagainst her in you.”
Cyrus flushed with shame. He wanted to givehis best friend a hug, tell him that everything was going to be allright, tell him he loved him. But something held him back. They had to focus ongetting to the fishing village. They had to escape north and elude Rorroh.
“You did good,” Cyrus finally said, stroking Edward’s back, “You did really good.”
A cold shiver ran up Cyrus’ spine, as the yellow skull on the spider’sbody glared back at him.
Chapter 27
THE HUNT
THE NEXT MORNING THE TRIO creptthrough the chattering forest, heading west for the fishing village, and theboat that would carry them north to the Yeti Kingdom. Cyrus’ dried clothes werecrusty and stiff, but he welcomed them warmly after a cold night in his raggedunderwear.
He took a sip from his canteen. Fibian hadfilled it several steps upstream from where the dragon’s sandy carcass lay. Thewater was cool and clean tasting, but it did not satisfy Cyrus’ grumblingbelly. He poured a drop into his open hand for Edward to drink. The tiny spidercrawled from his shoulder, down to his palm. Would the blodbadspider ever bite and kill him, Cyrus wondered for the hundredth time. His handshook ever so slightly.
Fibian signaled for silence andducked low. In a tiny clearing ahead, a small boar rooted in the soil. Fibian unshouldered the bow and beckoned Cyrus closer. Thenhe handed him the weapon.
“You want to grip the bow just below the middle of the shaft and pullthe string back to the corner of your mouth,” the froskmanwhispered, his grey coloring blending with the shadows.
“What? I don’t know how to shoot an arrow,” Cyrus whispered.
“It is time you learned,” Fibian said, pushingthe bow back into Cyrus’ hands.
Cyrus took the weapon and nocked the arrow like he had seen Fibian do. Then, keeping his left arm firm and straight, heraised the bow. With his right hand, he drew the arrow to the corner of hismouth. Both arms shook.
“Aim down the arrow shaft,” Fibian whispered,“and when you release the string, let your right hand fall back to your rightshoulder.”
Cyrus was not against killing animals for food. He had helped Llysa and his brotherkill many chickens and pigs in the past forsupper. But he realized now that he had never delivered the killing blow.
“Good,” Fibian said in his ear, “Now trace aline up the boar’s front leg, four inches above his armpit. That is where theanimal’s lungs are. That is where you want to put the arrow.”
“How do you know so much about killing and weapons and stuff?” Edwardasked.
The spider was crouched on Cyrus’ shoulder, staring down the arrowshaft.
“I do not know,” Fibian replied, “That is justthe way the Warrior Witch made me.”
Cyrus was certain he was not madefor this. He aimed his arrow above the boar’s armpit. His belly again grumbled,and his hands began to sweat.
“Relax and loose the arrow,” Fibian whispered.
Cyrus was starving, but could he reallykill this helpless animal? The boar smelled something and looked up.
“Now,” Fibian said.
Cyrus released the missile. The boar bolted. The arrow struck dirt. Thewild pig snorted and squealed as it vanished into the underbrush. Fibian rose to his feet and held a hand out to Cyrus.
“It was a good shot. You would have hit it, had you not hesitated.”
Cyrus took the froskman’s hand andstood straight.
“Sorry,” he said, handing the bow back, “I’ve only really killed ratsand flies, stuff like that.”
Fibian unslung the quiver and handedit to Cyrus.
“You keep them. It is time you learned to kill more than rats andflies.”
They spent the rest of the morning trekking through the forest, foragingfor fruit and nuts, always on the lookout for game.Fibian spotted some footprints and dropped to oneknee.
“What is it?” Edward asked.
“It appears to be a creature that walks upright,” Fibianreplied, his blue eyes bright.
“A villager from the fishing village?” Cyrus asked.
“I do not think so,” Fibian said, “Thiscreature has webbed feet like mine, but long, clawed toes. Keep your guardsup.”
They carried on for several hours, crossing valleys and streams, makingtheir way around cliffs and landslides. The sun was low in the sky when again Fibian halted.
“More footprints?” Edwardwhispered, crawling from shoulder to shoulder across Cyrus’ back.
Fibian crept through the underbrushwith Cyrus close on his heels. They discovered a dead deer lying ahead on theground.
“We’re not going to eat that, are we?” Cyrus asked, holding his nose.
The carcass was rancid, its skin shrunken and withered, tight to thebone. Fibian inspectedthe animal’s neck. There, Cyrus saw two puncture wounds.
“Something sucked the blood dry from this animal,” the froskman said.
“What would do that?” Edward asked, poised on Cyrus’ shoulder.
“We must try to make the village before nightfall,” Fibianreplied.
“What is it?” Cyrus asked, noting the concern in the froskman’s tone.
A shriek that sounded like an impaled bat cut the silence. Cyrus’ gutstwisted and his hair prickled.
“Klappen,” Fibianhissed, “We must hurry.”
Chapter 28
KLAPPEN
CYRUS’ HEART BEGAN TO POUNDlike a battle drum. Klappen? Llysawas right? The old ghost stories about the blood-suckingmonsters were real? Cyrus’ knees started to quiver. He followed the
