by Jensine Odom
“Welcome back to Earth!” I step back, giving Zebulon his space. “What happened?”
“Dagabrjota,” is all he replies, and the gem in the sword glows curiously.
“Operator?”
“I believe the sword has chosen Zebulon as its new wielder,” Caedryn explains calmly, although he looks surprised. “Zebulon must have a valiant heart for it to have chosen a human.”
“Well, I guess that’s what I’m doing with the sword, then.” I laugh, getting a smirk from Caedryn.
“Zebulon, Dagabrjota is yours; wield it with honor,” Caedryn tells him.
A smile spreads across Zebulon’s face as he nods slowly and ties the belt around his hips.
“Alright, are we ready to go now?” I look at everyone, receiving various forms of agreement.
“Let us carry the extra bags,” Caedryn offers. “We’ll be walking with you this time.”
I shrug and hand over my extra backpack, adjusting the straps out almost as far as they’ll go to fit it to Caedryn’s body. Zebulon and Tristin do the same for Turhion and Kerric, the three Knights looking out of place with the modern packs strapped to them. Mary hands me my new bow now that I don’t have an extra bag to worry about, and we head back for the Inn.
The Little Things
TODD’S untacking Bessie when we walk beneath the broken archway, having gotten here only moments before us. The cart’s empty, though. The Trader must be set up already. If we’ve any luck, we’ll get to be some of the first people to peruse his wares later.
Tristin, Zebulon, and Mary take the extra bags from Caedryn, Turhion, and Kerric and head for the apartments while I put Alarr in his pen under the watchful eyes of my guardians.
“Find anything good?” Todd asks as he tacks down Bessie, lightly brushing her disheveled fur where the harness had rubbed.
“Just a bunch of trinkets, but they should buy us a good stock of supplies. What about you? How did the retrieval go?”
“It went well. Not much was broken, and Abraham did a good job keeping everything safe.” He finishes with Bessie and gestures for me to walk with him as he puts her back in her paddock. “Xerxia, we met those dragon hunters. They’re heading here, after they deal with the Beast they were after. Should be here by morning, they said. You can’t be here when they arrive.” He locks Bessie’s stall and looks seriously at me. “I know you were planning on leaving soon anyways, but please, Xerxia, leave tonight. They’re not coming to just talk. They want you for something, and they mean business. They won’t take no for an answer.”
“Thanks for the heads up, Todd, but I think we can handle two dragon hunters.” I gesture to my entourage, now following us to the Inn.
“You don’t understand. There’s something about them that’s off. They spooked Bessie, and Bessie doesn’t spook.”
“Xerxia, I think we should heed his advice,” Caedryn says, sounding just as concerned.
“We can’t leave tonight. How about first thing in the morning?” I counter.
“That’s cutting it too close,” Todd says, fear creeping into his voice.
“I know, but we have to get supplies for the road, and for the Inn.”
“Your life is on the line, and you’re still worrying about us.” Todd shakes his head, admiration in his eyes. “I guess there’ll be no talking you out of it, then?”
“Nope.” I give him a smile and touch his shoulder reassuringly. “It’ll be alright, Todd.”
“I hope so,” he says, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles, then looks to Caedryn. “I know you care for her as much as I do. Keep her safe, will you?”
“With my life,” Caedryn vows, his gaze holding mine, and a blush crawls across my cheeks.
We reach the junction where the Inn and apartments are in separate directions, and I turn to Todd. “This is where we part ways, for now. See you later.”
“See you later.” He gives me a sad smile and turns for the Inn.
Inside the apartments Zebulon and Tristin are sitting in the living room with all the contents of the packs spread out, going over everything we have.
“Where’s Mary?” I ask.
“She went to take a bath,” Zebulon answers.
“You going to join her later?”
“No. She wants to be alone right now.”
“Oh. Alright, then,” I say, surprised. “One of you should go shower in the other bathroom so we can be done sooner and start laundry before tonight. We’re leaving in the morning.”
“What?! Why?!” Tristin asks, looking up from the gun he was inspecting.
“Because there are dragon hunters heading this way, and if that wasn’t bad enough, they’re looking for me.”
“Why would they want you?” Zebulon half teases.
“Because they’re not truly dragon hunters,” Caedryn answers. “They’re Honorless, searching for the Royal Drustana wants to kill.”
“Oh,” both my brothers say, the reality of the situation hitting them.
“So, one of you go shower while we sort our supplies.”
“I’ll go,” Zebulon volunteers, and grabs a fresh set of clothes before heading for the other apartment.
I take his spot and help Tristin finish inventorying, filling each bag equally with our supplies so we don’t have one person carrying all of one thing, just in case we get separated at some point. The things we don’t need, like the rifles with little to no ammo, go into the trade pile.
Zebulon reappears, his wet hair curling around his face, and Tristin takes his turn in the shower. Mary comes out of her bath now and sits in the recliner in the corner, turning it away from us and watching the horses out in the pasture.
I stand now, letting feeling return to my legs before I make my way to go shower.
“Do you guys bathe?” I ask Caedryn, Turhion, and Kerric, suddenly curious.
“We don’t need to, but do on occasion,” Caedryn answers.
“Do any of you want to bathe? You can go before me.”
“No, thank you,” Kerric says politely, and Turhion gives me the same answer.
“I may, but after you, Xerxia,” Caedryn tells me.
“Suit yourselves.” I shrug and head off to take my shower, making a pit stop in my room to drop off my bow and grab my last set of clean clothes; leggings, a tank top, and loose t-shirt.
I switch on the dim light, flooding the bathroom in soft amber, and the afternoon sun shines just in the frosted window across the room, throwing a contrasting blue glow. The towels sit neatly folded on the shelf above the toilet, and I grab two, hanging them on the rack outside of the walk-in shower.
Setting my clean clothes down on the counter, I catch a glimpse of my reflection, realizing my green eyes shine a little in the light. That’s new. I shuck off my hoodie, holding my large breasts up with an arm to look over my body, running a hand over where I was bruised just the night before.
A shadow in the mirror catches my attention, and my eyes meet Caedryn’s as his tall specter appears in the glass, his warmth permeating from behind. I look away, subconsciously running my other hand across my round belly and remembering what my body looked like in my relived memories.
“I’m not who I was before,” I say cryptically, my gaze flicking to meet Caedryn’s in the mirror.
His eyes roam over every curve and squiggle of my body, and he steps closer, his arms sliding over my own, fingers lacing with mine as he holds me.
“I know,” he says, his voice low in my ear. “I like who you are now.” He gently pulls my arms away from my body and turns me to face him.
Stepping back, he unlaces his shirt and hikes it over his head, tossing it next to my clothes on the counter, then begins to untie his pants. I blush involuntarily as he slides the soft cotton down his muscular thighs and steps out of the pooled fabric to stand there in all his silver, butt naked glory.
“Your turn,” he teases, throwing his pants to join his shirt.
I stand there, troubling my lip indecisivel
y. Fuck it! If he hasn’t run from the room scarred for life yet, he won’t now. I tuck my thumbs in the waistband of my joggers and fight them to the ground, nearly falling as I pull them off my large feet, then confidently meet Caedryn’s appreciative gaze.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, stepping closer, and my face flushes with heat as the truth of his words reaches my heart.
I’ve never considered myself beautiful. Impressive or barbaric, sometimes scary, but never beautiful.
“How do we do this?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts, and it takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about the shower.
I giggle stupidly at myself, letting my curls out of the braid they’ve been stuck in for days, then grab a washcloth.
“Like this,” I say, walking up beside Caedryn, and turn on the faucet in the tub.
The old water heater groans as it pushes the water through pipes in the walls and I wait for the water to run hot, then twist the cold knob until it’s just right, pulling the lever to switch the flow into the shower head.
Caedryn jumps back as the water spits out near his head and I laugh, stepping in the shower, sighing as the tepid water cascades down my body. He steps in cautiously, his muscular bulk taking up most of the rest of the shower, and watches as I scrub myself clean, his eyes following each stroke of the cloth.
After a little maneuvering I get Caedryn into the stream of water, and feeling an odd bravery come over me, I step closer, running the washcloth in the water for a moment before I begin to gently scrub his body.
His eyes close as I move across his chest and trail down the crease of his pecs, silver light rippling across his dragon mark at my touch. He takes a sharp breath as I get braver, running the cloth down and across his abdomen, then over his hips and down each of his thighs.
“Your turn,” I tease, dropping the rag with a wet plop, and Caedryn’s eyes flutter open, glowing slightly. “Touch me; know me.” I take his hand and lay it on my chest.
Caedryn looks apprehensive, then slowly moves his hand, fingers brushing lightly across my collarbone, then lower, barely touching the tops of each breast. A breath escapes me as he caresses down my side and across my belly, then slowly down one thigh and back up the other.
Taking a step closer, he trails his hand across my lower back and up my spine. I press my body against his, melting into his heat, and he takes me in his arms, kissing me softly, slowly.
The water turns suddenly cold, making us both gasp in shock, and I reach around Caedryn to turn the shower off as quickly as I can.
“I’m going to kill my brothers,” I growl, stepping back to wring out my hair.
“We must be stopping anyways,” Caedryn tells me, uncertainty filling the space between us. “The Trader will be opening soon.” That’s not the only reason he’s pulling away, but I can’t put my finger on it just yet.
“Alright.” I step out of the shower and take the towels off the rack, handing one to Caedryn as he follows, but he just looks at me as the water evaporates off his skin. “That’s a neat trick.” Caedryn just smirks and walks away, dressing quickly and leaving me to finish drying and dressing myself.
I stop by my room, grabbing the rest of my dirty clothes, then head out to the living room. Zebulon and Tristin are snickering from the couch and I glare at them as I walk by, dumping my armful of clothes in the washer.
“Add whatever clothes you need washed,” I tell them, continuing to ignore their teasing. “You too, Mary.”
“I know,” she snaps, leaving abruptly.
“Woah! What’s her problem?” I ask no one in particular.
Zebulon shrugs and follows her into their room while Tristin leaves for the other apartment, all three reappearing soon after to toss their clothes in with mine.
A knock at the door startles me just as I get the cranky old washer going, and I turn to find Todd.
“You don’t have to knock, you know,” I tell him, sliding open the glass door.
“I know, but I still do. It’s only polite,” he returns with a smile. “The Trader sent me. He says you can have first pick.”
“Thanks, Todd.”
“Anytime.” He nods and walks off, heading for the horse pens to start his evening rounds.
“Everybody get your shit! Trader’s ready, and we get first pick,” I call through the apartments, grabbing my backpack and filling it with all the useless trinkets we’ve found while my brothers thunder around doing the same.
Mary’s sitting on the couch when we meet back in the living room, listlessly staring out the window, her backpack full of stuff sitting between her feet.
“You can stay here while we trade,” I tell her tentatively, tossing my bag across my shoulders.
“No, I’ll go,” she says, standing with a sigh. “I just feel weird after today, so I might go to bed early.”
“That’s understandable.” I smile softly at her. “Let’s go,” I howl, and we make our way to the Inn.
Tents have started to go up with the overflow of guests, and people mill around the front of the Inn, watching our group curiously. Right as we reach the door, Todd runs up, stopping us before we go inside.
“Can I maybe get your guys’ help moving carts around?” he asks Caedryn, Turhion, and Kerric. “Some of these people will want to be leaving first thing in the morning and have asked that I ready their carts.”
“Go,” I tell them when they look at me. “I’ll be fine. We’ll be in here trading for some time.” Caedryn plants a quick kiss to my forehead then nods, and the four men walk away, the people around us watching them still.
Steve looks up from the bar as we walk in the door, his face lighting up with a smile.
“Xerxia,” he greets me. “Trader’s waiting for you down the way.” He gestures down the long hall of rooms, where the garage sits at the end.
It’s hard to remember this place used to be a large ranch house, with all the renovations we made to the living and dining rooms to make it more like an inn.
“Thanks, Steve.” I toss him one of the extra hunting knives and lead the way down the hall.
Some impatient people have begun to form a line, more or less, and heckle Cookie to open the door, but she just stands there, stone-faced. Abraham, the Traders black German Shepherd, sits beside her, helping to keep the hecklers at bay. His thick tail beats against the ground as we approach, and Cookie beams. The other people watch incredulously as we walk up, and Cookie just opens the door.
“Why do they get to go in?!” one man yells, the small woman beside him crying in agreement. Those two are new here, and don’t know us yet.
“Because their Scavengers,” Cookie answers ominously.
“She’s not just any Scavenger, but the Dragon Scavenger,” Carl calls from the back of the room, giving me a wink, and the people take a few steps back in fear, a few of them clutching their purses and other goods, some even their children.
Sometimes it’s good to have a mostly unearned reputation. I nod my thanks, and we walk inside.
Dust swirls in the soft light filtering through the tiny garage door windows. Back in its heyday it would have fit about five cars, but now it has become a post-apocalyptic grocery store, with rows of metal shelves filled with an assortment of survival supplies.
“Xerxia,” the Trader’s raspy voice floats from the corner nearest us. “Todd told you about the dragon hunters, did he?”
“Yeah, a little,” I answer, walking over with my family and pulling out all the stuff we have for trade, laying it out on the table.
“They’re right mean looking, and they have a strange aura about them, but they did help us pack the cart back up,” he chatters absently, glancing over our haul, his eyes lighting up at the rifles. “Those’ll buy you the whole store,” he says, picking one up and expertly going over it. “If they got ammo.”
“Just what’s in them,” Tristin tells him.
“That’s enough for me,” the Trader says, “These’ll help protect my intere
sts a bit better, even when they run out of bullets. Between a rifle wavin’ and Abraham? Folks’ll think twice about trying to take my stuff. It’s all yours.” He sweeps his arm across the entire garage, flashing a half toothless grin.
“You know I can’t do that,” I tell him. “There’s too many people who need the supplies more than we do.”
“Then what’s your price?”
“We’ll take what we need. Anything left after everyone else is done stays with Steve.”
“Done.” The Trader offers his calloused hand to shake on it. “What about all these doodads?” He looks at the trinkets spread across his table.
“Give that crystal unicorn to Cookie, the rest can go on account for any needy families here.”
“As you say, your Majesty.” My heart trips for a moment, but the Trader smiles, his eyes sparkling, and he begins to put away the trinkets. “Oh, do you have any more of those forged arrowheads? I find myself in need of a few.”
“You’re in luck.” The Trader comes up with a leather pouch and plops it on the table, the metal arrowheads clinking inside. “These are the last of their kind. Take ‘em, they’re all yours. You’re the only one what’s wanted them anyways.”
I take the pouch, peering inside. Six arrowheads, made from meteorite, gleam up at me. I don’t know why no one else wants these; they pierce cleaner and better than any other arrowhead I know of. Whatever. Their loss. “Thanks!” I smile to the Trader, tucking the pouch in my backpack, and join my family amongst the metal shelves.
I walk past the rows of canned goods to grab a few more wool blankets, then some jerky and trail mix, as well as some granola bars. We don’t really need much more than that. Jake and his family left us a good amount of supplies.
“Gummy bears,” Tristin yells from the farthest row of shelves. “Guys, they’re still squishy!”
His boots fall heavy on the concrete floor as he runs for us, sliding around the corner where I am and tossing the bag of candy at me.
