Realization struck like a cold knife stabbing her brain and Raven shot up in cart, clutching the blanket. “The mountain?” Sunlight lit her vision, piercing the veil of dreams.
Yes. Come closer.
Mountains didn’t talk. That was ridiculous. She grabbed Ben’s shoulder and shook him. “Wake up.”
He moaned and turned, pulling the quilt over his face.
She nudged him again then tugged the quilt down. Ben’s hair stuck straight up.
“Ben.”
In the morning sunlight, the green plain meadowed into a golden sea floating along the tops of the vegetation, fine grasses tipped in tiny glinting diamonds of moisture. The trees rose overhead in a canopy of greens and deep purples, some with frothy leaves and twirling vines grazing the air as they swung in the breeze.
The stand of trees they’d camped in wasn’t a proper forest though. It was a small shelter, but provided protection from the elements.
Her dreams raced away on the morning sunlight, though the voice lingered on the edge of memory. She scanned the world around her, trying to get her reality back.
Butterflies flitted across the tops of tiny purple flowers at the edge of the field and stingflies swarmed a bush of white, fragrant buds. The horse grazed on a patch of lush, deep grass near a gnarled tree that spread flowering branches out in all directions.
Raven breathed in the scents of sharp tree sap, sweet honeyed flowers, and dirt. Everything seemed so alive and vibrant.
It was as if the world waited for her outside Lostmere, almost as if she’d opened a door into a fantasy land filled with new sights and sounds and experiences. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
She reached for Ben. She’d heard the voice plainly. A mountain in Wildhold had called to her. Told her she’d win the upcoming game with his help.
Maybe anxiety had bathed her sleep, causing her to dream odd visions.
“Ben, come on, wake up.” She nudged him again, then pulled the quilt off him completely, wadding it up in her lap.
He stirred. “I’m awake.”
“It’s morning.”
“I can see that.” He rubbed his eyes. “Just barely, from the looks of it.”
“The mountain talked to me.” She waited on it to sink in.
“What? When?” He sat up. “Are you dreaming?”
“No. A mountain in Wildhold said I was destined to win the game.”
“Must’ve been dreaming.” Ben hopped out of the cart and stretched. “Mountains don’t talk.”
“I don’t think it was a dream.” She picked at lint balls on the quilt.
Maybe Ben was right, and it was all a dream. It sounded kind of absurd when spoken aloud.
“The only creatures to ever claim to hear a mountain talk are trolls, and that’s in stories. And trolls are crazy. I don’t think a mountain talked to you. I think you were dreaming.”
“Maybe it was a dream.” She gazed out over the landscape. The memory was already growing fuzzy.
“We’ve got a long way to go today if we’re going to make it to town before too late. How about some breakfast?”
“Sounds good. I’m starving.”
“And no more mountain talk about talking mountains, okay? We don’t want people in Cliffhold to think you’re crazy.”
“Even if I am?”
They bumped over rocks and clumps of earth and Raven fought to stay awake. The trip felt longer than a day—it seemed like they’d been riding over the plains and trails forever.
The dew had dried and even the stingflies had buzzed away to a cool place to hide until the sun’s rays were slanted and weaker.
“Are we almost to Wildhold?” Her voice cracked as she spoke.
“We should be. Keep your eyes open for a river. That’s the border between Lorkhit Ka and Wildhold.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. Had she told him how grateful she was that he had come? The trip wouldn’t have been the same if he’d stayed behind.
“Thank you for coming with me,” she said.
He winked at her. “I can’t let you have all the fun without me.”
“I’m glad you came.”
“Me too.”
She watched the landscape pass by, dozing as they made their way over a smooth patch of road where the cart wheels barely seemed to touch the ground.
The mountains were taller than what she was used to in Lorkhit Ka. Majestic peaks, shrouded in clouds and armored in rock, rose to nearly touch the sky.
Raven pretended they were the only creatures left in the world. No dragons, no jobs, no money needed.
They turned a bend in the trail and the sound of rushing water echoed around them.
“It’s the river.” Raven pointed. “The border. We made it.”
A wide ribbon of water slashed across the terrain. The river slithered by, crossed only by a wooden bridge that carried the trail over its depths.
Ben’s shoulders sagged and he nodded. “We made it. We should stop and let the horse rest. Eat lunch.”
“I’m hungry again.”
“You’re always hungry.”
“No, I’m not always hungry. But I’m hungry now.”
“I’m glad we have a basket of food.”
“Me too.”
Ben guided the wagon onto a flat patch of land near the water, out of the way of the wooden bridge that crossed the path. He stopped the cart in a barren spot under a thick tinga tree. The branches sprawled over the cart like a tent, and the dense leaves shielded all but the most piercing sunbeams.
“I’m going to take the horse to get a drink. He can graze, and we can have lunch.”
“He’ll enjoy the fresh grass.”
“Yeah, it should hold him till we stable him in town.”
“What about a swim?” A short break would invigorate them both.
“We still have a distance to go before dark.” He hopped off the cart. “Maybe we can stop on the way home. Be right back.”
“I’ll be here.” He was right. They didn’t have time for a swim.
Ben led the horse to the river. She knew she should get out and stretch her legs, but her achy body wasn’t cooperating. She scanned the mountains, looking for any signs of towns or settlements.
Nothing.
She didn’t see any floating mountains, either. Or dragons surveying the sky. It really did feel like she and Ben were the only creatures alive.
She smacked a stingfly that landed on her arm.
The horse had a long drink of water then shook his head like he was saying no. Raven smiled. Ben led him to the cart and patted him on the neck.
“He’s happy.”
He hooked the horse back up to the cart and secured the lead.
“I bet he wanted to swim, too.”
“I don’t know. I think the rushing water scared him a little.” He grabbed the water container from the cart. “Speaking of water, I’m going to refill our jug. You should get out and walk around.”
“I will in a minute. I’m so tired.” She crawled over the seat to the back of the cart and lay down, intent on closing her eyes for a brief time.
The sun cast spots over everything, and she yawned. The wooden cart held heat and she folded her hands and breathed deeply. The air was so fresh and warm and the whoosh of the river lulled her. She’d just closed her eyes when Ben hollered from the river’s edge.
She bolted upright, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach.
“Ben?” She searched the riverbank.
He peered at the sky as a large shadow passed over the riverbank and then over the water.
Hag’s death. A dragon.
“Run!” She reached for her sword, pulled the closures free, and grabbed the hilt. No time to don armor, but at least she’d have a weapon if the dragon came close.
She crouched, shielding her eyes to try to see where the dragon had flown. It wasn’t over the river anymore, nor was it flying over the mountains.
It might be right above
her.
Ben ran toward the cart, the water container sloshing with each step.
Why doesn’t he drop it?
She didn’t dare yell again, for fear the dragon was close enough to hear her. Dragons didn’t have super sensitive hearing, like elves and centaurs, but they could hear well enough. She couldn’t risk it.
The dense tinga tree obscured the sky above her head. The beast had to be up there. Circling, maybe looking for a snack. Or maybe it had come to the river to drink, and she and Ben were a bonus find.
Ben loosened the horse and jumped into the cart, almost flinging the water container into the back. “We can hide under the bridge. Come on, get up here so you don’t topple out.”
“Let it come.” She held her sword in front of her.
Ben grabbed the crop and reins. “We don’t need to risk a fight. Come on.”
She clambered over the seat and Ben jerked the reins as soon as she sat. Either the horse sensed the danger, or it had rested enough to move quickly. Ben urged it forward toward the bridge.
“That dragon is going to see us.” She craned her neck to watch the sky.
“I’m betting it won’t come after us under the bridge.” He pushed the horse to move faster.
Her sword warmed in her palm and she held it tight. She wasn’t afraid to fight. As they passed from under the tinga tree, the sunlight hit the blade and shot a beam of bright light in front of her. She lowered the sword, ready to swing.
The cart bumped and teetered toward the bridge and Raven kept her gaze on the sky. Tension knotted her shoulders and cramped her neck as she scanned for the beast.
The dragon had disappeared.
Where is it?
Movement caught her eye as the creature swooped closer to the ground, slicing an arc over the riverbank and road.
The gray-green tint of its scales muted in the sunlight and it looked like a shadow. Its tail, long and narrowing at the end, served to stabilize it as it dipped and spun on the air currents. It descended quickly, heading for the river again.
Raven held her breath.
Had it spotted them? It wasn’t looking their way but…
Ben pushed the horse toward the bridge with near silent commands and strong gestures. They were almost there. She hoped they could hide under the bridge caissons and avoid the dragon’s attention.
The dragon dove toward the water like an arrow, taking aim not far from where Raven and Ben rode by the riverbank.
She held her sword close, her heart pounding and her mouth dry. She could take on the beast if she had to. Ben reached under the cart seat and pulled out his dagger, holding the reins in one hand.
The fight would be two against one, which was misleading since the one was a ginormous, scaly dragon.
Not much farther and they’d have the shelter of the bridge over them. She chewed her lip and squeezed the sword pommel tight. Her legs wobbled, like a newborn herez.
The dragon pulled up before hitting the water headfirst, then sailed over the river, its tail sending a watery spray of rainbows into the glint of sunshine. Its wings unfurled fully as it glided, the light shining through the thin, stretched skin, highlighting the sharp tips and twisting veins.
She tensed. Across the side of the dragon’s face, a scar crinkled, painting a bright pink ribbon of bumpy flesh that protruded over its mouth and up to the corner of its golden eye.
Ben guided the cart underneath the bridge and cut off her view of the beast. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
Everyone feared dragons.
There was barely room under the bridge for the cart and horse, but there was enough protection to keep them from being visible and exposed to attack. Ben motioned her to be quiet. Or maybe he meant don’t move. It didn’t matter, as she was frozen in place by her fear.
A long, low screech sounded.
The dragon was still out there.
Ben whispered, “It didn’t seem to notice us at all.”
“It saw us. But for whatever reason, it didn’t care.”
Raven held the sword so tightly her fingertips were going numb. She tried to relax, but her anxiety had spiked. She tried to breathe through it. Scared or not, she wouldn’t let the dragon ruin things.
The underside of the bridge was cool and dark, and a bit damp. The river rushed by in front of them, bursting into rainbows of mist when the water flowed from under the bridge and out into the open. The bank was muddy and hoof marks littered the area.
Maybe someone else had hid from a dragon under the bridge.
Time passed with no sound from the dragon and no attack and the cool of the dark and damp place sent chills down her arms.
“Can we leave yet?” She shuddered.
“A little longer,” Ben said.
“I hope it leaves us alone.”
“Me too.”
She nodded, laying the sword across her lap. “What a long day. Hopefully the dragon is gone for good.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
Raven breathed slowly as Ben eased the horse from under the bridge, careful not to make much noise. They’d waited at least one sun angle to make sure the dragon was gone, but there was no way to know if it was waiting on them to come out. Raven kept her sword close, glad she’d recently sharpened it.
With no sign of the dragon, Ben guided the horse back to the trail.
They crossed the bridge and headed into Wildhold, not speaking. The dragon was the second one Raven had seen in as many days. Why were so many dragons flying around lately? Had something changed?
Ice settled in her stomach and the tang of metal hit her mouth. If the dragons made a final push to destroy Lorkhit Ka now, she doubted the people were ready to fend it off. They needed more time to train, more time to arm themselves and make a plan.
She pondered the long scar on the dragon’s face. Had that happened in battle? Had it attacked another dragon, or even a squiman or wolf or troll?
She rubbed her arms. She’d be just fine if she never saw a dragon ever again. That was unlikely. The dragons had made it clear that they were in Lorkhit Ka to stay.
“Ben,” she said.
“Yeah?” The strain in his voice was evident.
“We forgot to eat lunch.”
Orange sunlight poured over the trail between the hills and taller peaks, and the sky dimmed in an even deeper tone as the sun set. Raven blew out a breath. The trek to Cliffhold had been longer than she expected, though they’d made good time since the encounter with the dragon near the border.
Wildhold was beautiful with its varied landscapes and wilderness. They’d passed through a dense forest of tinga trees after crossing the river then made their way across a vast plain with nothing to see but an occasional large rock amongst the tall grasses. They’d hardly seen any other travelers on the path, and no more dragons had appeared in the sky.
When they’d passed into the rocky plains, they’d traveled as quickly as the horse would go. The combination of little camouflaging vegetation and open sky made her feel vulnerable and at the mercy of any dragon that might fly by.
Ben had been extra cautious, scanning frequently for the flying beasts. Seeing the dragon at such close range had unsettled him, though he’d trained to fight the beasts.
Raven leaned on him. “It’s been a long day.”
“This was your idea.” Ben shot her a grin. “Want to go home? We could get some sleep in a comfortable bed and pretend we never started this adventure.”
“Noooo. Of course not.”
Ben lifted the reins and encouraged the horse to move more quickly, and the cart bumped along the rocky road. They stuck to the clear roadway that had been carved into the land by countless wagons and horses before them. Ahead, the orange sunlight beckoned them through the trees. The rocks, cast in hues of sunset, colored the landscape like fruit at the market.
“I hope we’re almost there,” Raven sighed.
“Me, too.” Ben kept the horse paced as they bumped over divots in t
he road.
“I’m going to be so sore.” She clung to his arm.
“I’m looking forward to having a mattress to sleep on tonight.” Ben scrunched up his shoulders. “Even if it’s just straw-filled and on the inn floor, it’ll be welcome.”
As they came around the bend, a mountain peak loomed overhead. It floated, like an upside-down cone suspended in midair, with a flat spot on the eastern side. Already, evening lights twinkled on the flat area, indicating a settlement.
“That must be it,” Raven whispered.
Her hand went to her mouth as she took in the view. She’d heard descriptions of floating mountains her whole life, but nothing compared to seeing one in front of her.
It’s so big.
“I can’t believe it.” He slowed the horse. “The stories are true.”
“It’s beautiful.”
For a moment, Raven questioned her choice to come compete. How were they going to get to the top of the floating mountain? Zelonga said there were pegasusi pulling carts to ferry people, but now that she saw how high the town was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to travel there.
She clenched her hands in her lap. It was no different than flying on her own, with her own wings. She never went as high as Cliffhold, though. It didn’t matter. She’d come this far and wasn’t turning back now. She’d never been scared of heights before, and she wasn’t going to let a mountain scare her away.
The contest was in Cliffhold, and that was where she was going.
You’ve made it. Good. The voice sounded in her head and she looked to Ben to see if he heard it. He continued guiding the horse.
She wasn’t dreaming this time.
Something was speaking to her in her own mind, and no matter who or what it was, she’d listen. Maybe it really would impact her game.
By the time they’d hired a pegasusi and boarded their horse at the stables, the sun had almost set and stars were beginning to appear in the dark sky. The handler loaded their bags into the carriage, strapping things to the roof securely.
A stable hand waited to take their cart and store it at the barn until they were ready to head home to Lostmere. No other travelers lingered about the ferry station. The huffs and snorts of the pegasusi floated on the air.
Raven's Game Page 4
