What is this?
A little voice whispers that I know, but another one says I’m wrong. I must be wrong.
What does it look like?
A dragon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I’ve seen dragon art. There are even a few pieces that are said to come from real life, back when dragons existed, before Tamarel united under Clan Dacre. They didn’t look like this, though. They were bigger, for one thing. The size of gryphons, some said. Even bigger, others said. And they were red or green, sometimes both.
Maybe this is an unknown dragon-like monster. Or an evolved form of dragons, which has been hidden away in the mountains for generations. Legend says that humans killed the dragons. With their size and ferocity, they were a threat to human habitation and livestock. They bred and matured so slowly that extinction came easily.
Maybe there were survivors, and they evolved into this, a wyvern-sized creature that wouldn’t attract the same attention, wouldn’t pose the same threat and become the same target of human fear.
All these thoughts pass in a blur, because as excited as my inner scientist might be, my inner hunter knows I need to get out of here—now. Leave, and get someplace safe. Tell the others, and then decide whether this is a secret we keep. To protect these dragon monsters. That comes later. For now, I must protect my—
Something strikes down behind me, the air vibrating with a rush of wind. I turn slowly, and my heart stops.
A second dragon—as big as the first—has landed on the ledge. There’s one moment when I stand in utter awe, seeing the beast in the dawning light. It is…incredible. As big as Malric, with a reptile’s body, lean and graceful. Its horns curve backward, and it has a ridge all the way down its spine and tail. The wings are more bat than bird, thick and leathery. Four legs, unattached to the wings, each foot with gleaming talons. This beast is jet-black, like the other, but when the sun hits its scales, they gleam iridescent, and my free hand drops to the scale under my waistband, knowing now what I found.
Then the beast rears up, rising on its hind legs, wings extending. It opens its mouth, the inside black with sharp, strong teeth. And it screams. It lets out a cry like the ones I heard earlier—the birdlike ones. Those were simple communication. This one is alarm. A shriek to tell the one inside the cavern that they are under attack.
I race to the edge, ready to run down and…
And it’s a straight drop. Sheer rock. Nothing I can hold onto to help me scramble down. I glance past the other monster blocking my way, but even from here, I can see the entire ledge is the same. There’s no way to climb down.
The draconic creature inside the cavern begins coming my way. The other still rears on its hind legs, shrieking at me. I reach the other edge and…the same. A straight drop.
Back through the cave. That’s my best choice. Run past the second draconic creature and into that tunnel and run, just run. The only question is whether I carry Jacko or if I should let him run with me, and as much as I want to do the former, I know it’s better to let him run. He’ll stay close, and I have my dagger, and I will not let them take him.
I grip my knife, turn and run, letting out a scream of my own, a battle cry that I hope will startle the first beast enough so I can pass. Out of the corner of my eye, I see it fall back, and I keep running toward—
Toward the tunnel. I don’t see the tunnel ahead. There’s a wall instead. A huge black rock—
A scream, a deafening scream of rage and the wall—the wall—is moving. That’s all I register at first. That there was solid black in front of me, and now it’s moving and…
I am not looking at a wall. I’m looking at a body. A massive torso sheathed in black scales blocks my path, and my gaze lifts just as a head appears.
My scream echoes the beast’s. Its is rage. Mine is terror and shock, as I see a head bigger than my entire body, mouth opening to reveal teeth as long as my arm.
I grab Jacko. I don’t think. I scoop him up under one arm, and I scramble backward with my dagger thrust out. My dagger…which is half the size of one of those teeth.
The dragon screams, and it is a dragon, there is absolutely no doubt of that. The other two are babies—juveniles, and this is their mother, and she is so immense that my brain cannot comprehend what I am seeing.
Those jaws open in another scream, and I am looking into the maw of a dragon that could swallow me whole. One chomp of those jaws, and I am dead.
I cannot get past her. There is no “past her” that I can see. She takes up all the space.
This is what I saw lying around that corner. What seemed to be part of a coiled tail, but I told myself it had to be a leg, because no beast had a tail that size.
She does.
I cannot get past her, and behind me is a ledge with a straight drop, a young dragon still on it.
Too bad. I have no choice here. I have to run for that ledge and try to slide or scramble down the mountain. My brain screams that this is not an option, but I don’t see another one.
I cannot get past this dragon. She is never going to let me get past her. She’s furious, and the only reason she hasn’t killed me yet, I think, is her absolute
