“I’ll use it. I’ll protect myself and you.”
Drazak glares at the boy once more and then turns to climb the slope. When he gets to the boulder, I see him test the hole as I had. He notices the scratches too.
I turn back to the boy and make my way over to him. He glares at me warily. I keep my dagger in hand, but show the boy my palm. I kneel beside him.
“Are you alone?” I ask although I know the answer.
No response.
“Did you like the ration—err, food?” I rub my belly for meaning.
His eyes shift down for a second. He hisses.
“I’m glad,” I say. “I would like it too if all I had to eat were bugs.” A beetle scuttles over a small rock by my feet. I change the subject. “Can I see your hands?”
Silence.
I point to his hand. “Hands,” I repeat.
His hands twitch. His nails are cracked—gone. I rub my fingertips, imagining his pain. Nagas have claws… They use them to defend themselves. This boy has all but trusted his little life to us. Unless he manages to bite me, he has no other means of defense. He slides his hands under his tail.
I frown but don’t push it.
Drazak grunts. I rise and take a few steps away. Drazak’s back is to the wall where the hole is, one arm through the crack. He’s trying to dislodge the rock. His face is scrunched from the effort. He stops and tries again.
A stream of rocks tumbles down.
“Milaye,” he calls down. “I need…” Another grunt.
“My help?”
“Your help,” Drazak says.
“Stay back and near the wall,” I tell the boy as I start for the top. “If it comes down, it’s going to come down fast. Be ready to move.”
Once I reach Drazak, I start digging and tossing rocks where they might have lodged under the boulder. Drazak watches me, waiting for my cue before pushing again. I move to safety behind him.
He pushes. The crackle of dirt fills my ears, then more grunting. He stops. I get back down and start digging at the rocks again. We do this several times, and by the third, the boulder shifts. He pushes harder, putting all his strength behind it.
I suck in my stomach. Drazak grits his teeth, his jaw ticks, and beads of sweat pour down his face. His muscles bulge, smoke pools out of his jewel like it’s a waterfall, and the plume of it nearly drowns out the light. It eats at it, making parts of the streak vanish entirely.
I’ve never seen anything like it. Was it doing the same to the campfire?
The boulder drops, and I’m barely aware of it. Drazak falls to his knees in a huff as it crashes down, grinding the stones beneath, building momentum as it falls. I put my arm under his arm, helping him stand.
Sunlight is bathing us.
We’re free.
We’re free because of Drazak.
There would be no way I could have moved that boulder by myself, and I realize those scratches could have been mine… In another life.
There is silence as the boulder and other tumbling rocks come to a stop. Silence as we stare into the light. It’s painful.
Drazak pulls me into him and presses his face to the top of my head. I hear something move behind me, and Drazak stiffens. I look up just as the naga slithers by, sneaking past us and out of the cave. He disappears into the bright light beyond.
16
Drazak’s New World
Milaye takes my hand, and we leave the cave together. It is not an easy thing to do. The sunlight burns my eyes—hers too, I have noticed—and we are forced to go slow.
Adjusting takes a long time. And strangely, my eyes shift before hers. We pause and she sits on a rock next to me, continuously rubbing her eyes and blinking tears. I watch her curiously.
She is different in the light. All the colors I have not seen in ages return fast and swift, blazing my head with stimuli. I see them for the first time again on Milaye’s clothes, her skin, her hair. The jungle goes ignored as I feast on the sight of my mate. Have I ever seen hair so black? Skin so golden and sun-kissed? And her clothes… They are adorned with shells and feathers, details I failed to notice before, each a splash of Venys I have long forgotten.
She is radiant.
She grumbles and peeks at me through her fingers. I smell fresh tears.
“It hurts,” she whines.
‘Humans don’t belong in the dark.’ Her words come back to me. I brush my fingers through a strand of her hair. “It will get better. I can always lick them?” I tease.
“Ugh.” She turns away and rubs at her eyes again. “No thank you. Just be on the lookout since, apparently, you can see perfectly,” she says with a little annoyance I don’t miss.
I peer down at her hair in my hand. Has her hair always been this long? Has it always been this soft? I played with it for hours when she slept, but that now seems like an eternity ago.
There are other things I discover as well. Things I do not care for…
My human’s skin is marred and dirty. There are bruises and scratches all over her. Even though I have mouthed her much recently, I have failed to cover her everywhere. I will have to remedy that soon. Also, there is a tired, shrunken appearance to her that does not look right. Like she is sickly, wasting away… perhaps starving.
I am hungry, and if I am hungry, she must be famished.
I cannot have this. Seeing her like this—not realizing how bad it was before—I am angry. Angry at myself that I wanted to keep her locked away in my den, a place where she would have surely gotten worse. My hand fists at my
