"Time is important,” Peter said.
Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Regan heaved a sigh of disgust. “All I have to do is follow the path, right? I just need a few minutes.” She saw understanding dawn on Peter's face. He moved by Angus and continued onward. “We will slow our pace."
"Women,” Angus grumbled, following.
"Would you like Maggie and me to wait?” Ben asked.
"No,” Regan said, scanning the mountainside for a concealing rock.
Ben hesitated.
"I'll be fine,” she insisted. “Well, in a few minutes I will be."
He turned away and Regan scrambled toward a rock.
* * * *
Regan rounded another switchback. Still no sign of the men. “Just how far ahead are they?” She wiped sweat from her face. The path had grown steeper in the last half-mile or so. Sudden pain knifed through her calf. She yelped, grabbed the knotting muscle and hobbled to a flat rock. Groaning, she rubbed the charley horse. A small avalanche of rocks and dust bounced around her and she looked up.
Peter slid into her view. “Taking another break?"
"I..."
"Time is important, Regan."
She pressed her lips together and stood. “I'm coming."
"We are two curves ahead and will wait.” Peter turned and disappeared around the curve.
"Arrogant asshole.” Regan took a step and winced. “I'll catch up if it kills me.” Ignoring the pain, she climbed after Peter.
The trail circled a jutting rock. The rock, riddled with fissures, had broken away in large chunks. Gaze on the ground, Regan picked her way through the rubble. From the other side of the rock she heard a muffled curse and then Angus's raised voice. “By the Horned One, what is taking the woman so long?"
She glared in the direction of the voice. They all can just go to hell, she though defiantly. With her next step, the stone beneath her foot turned. With a small yelp, she grabbed at the branch of a scrubby, pink-flowered bush. Pain raced up her arm like liquid fire; in a heartbeat, numbness replaced the stinging. Blinking back tears, she jerked her hand back. Red welts ran in uneven lines across her palm.
She heard the scramble of feet and looked up to see Maggie bound around the rock toward her. The basset hound halted at Regan's feet.
"Regan, are you coming?” Peter called.
"I'm right on the other side of the rock,” she yelled. “You go on ahead."
"The cave is around the next bend. We will wait for you there."
The numbness had worked its way up into her shoulder. Cradling her lifeless right arm against her body, Regan climbed to her feet. “Hope they can tell me how long this numbness is going to last."
Suddenly, Maggie howled and dropped to the ground in submissive terror. A shadow covered them. “What the...” Regan glanced up. A huge golden body flew between her and the sun. “A dragon, an honest-to-God dragon,” she muttered as her heart doubled its beat. She grabbed Maggie's collar and looked around for a place to hide.
"Do not move,” Peter said from above her.
Regan froze and watched as the dragon dipped a wing and glided closer.
"You are a rock to her as long as you remain still."
Maggie trembled beneath Regan's hand. “Easy, girl, easy."
The sun glinted off gold scales, blinding her. She squeezed her eyes together. Please, I don't want to die. A musky wind lifted her hair and she cringed, waiting for the feel of ripping talons. Instead she felt the heat of the sun on her head again. She opened her eyes and watched Peter scramble to her side in a cloud of dust and sliding rocks.
"Your hand,” he said, reaching for her right hand.
Regan stared at him, her arm hanging useless at her side.
"Regan."
"I can't. It won't move."
"Damnation, then give me your other hand."
Of course. My other hand. Now why didn't I think of that?
She released Maggie's collar. The basset hound scrambled to her feet and vanished around the rock.
Peter half-pulled, half-dragged Regan up beside him. “Run.” He pushed her forward.
Regan lurched around the rock and stumbled to a halt in front of a dark hole. From the darkness came the smell of dampness, horses, and hay. A shadow again covered the mountainside and Peter pressed her body against the cliff with his. Regan closed her eyes and buried her face against his chest.
After what seemed an eternity, Peter whispered into her ear. “She is gone."
She opened her eyes, stared into his, and her heart beat fast at the love and desire blazing in them. Questions formed in her head, but before she could voice them, his eyes became remote and he pulled away.
She must have been mistaken. How could he care for her? They didn't know each other. Regan's body quaked with sudden shudders.
"I'm-I'm sorry,” she whispered, then reached out in panic as the world tilted. Her vision grayed at the edges and she shook her head willing it away.
"Regan?"
She felt Peter grab her as the gray became black, and she slid into oblivion.
* * * *
Pricks of fire jabbed her hand. She winced, then gasped as the burning raced up to her shoulder. She opened her eyes and saw three worried faces clustered above her, four counting Maggie. Peter knelt beside her, a silver cup in his hand. He placed an arm behind her neck. “Drink this,” he said holding the cup to her lips.
She stared at the pea-green concoction that smelled like slime from the top of a cesspool. “You want me to drink that?"
"Every drop."
She shook her head. “I don't think so."
"It will strengthen you,” Peter said.
"I'll be fine.” She struggled to sit up.
"Yes, in a day or two you will be fine, but we cannot wait.” Peter tipped the cup toward her mouth. “Now drink."
Regan clamped her lips tightly.
"Kelsey needs us both, and now,” Peter said.
She took a deep breath and took a sip. The taste was a cross between ginseng tea and spearmint. She drank all of it.
He helped her to a sitting position. “What happened?” she said.
Peter took the cup from her hand. “You grabbed a firebush. A few hours more, and the paralysis would have been permanent."
Angus scowled, then reached out and softly touched her shoulder. “Stupid woman,” he said, then turned away. “I will saddle the horses."
"Horses?” Ben said. “Regan needs at least an hour's rest."
"Yes,” Peter agreed, “but she can not have it. Zara knows we are here."
Zara. An image of golden scales and curved talons flickered through Regan's mind. “About Zara, I apologize,” she said. “That's one dragon that very much exists."
Peter stared into her eyes. “There is much in our world that no longer exists in yours."
Regan's return stare was incredulous. “Are you saying that dragons once lived in my world?"
"Dragons once ruled both worlds. Do you not know your history?"
"History was my major in college, but Dragon 101 wasn't part of the curriculum."
Ben placed a hand on Regan's shoulder. “This is not the place for a historical debate."
Regan nodded. “More hysterical than historical. So, how do we escape a dragon?"
"By going underground,” Peter said. “We will use Murkel cavern. It will shorten our riding time."
"If it's shorter why didn't you use it before?"
"The distance is shorter, but the danger is great.” Peter bent and picked up a carved wooden box. “Give me your hand. I want to rub more salve into it."
"Salve? I would have thought you'd use a magic spell to heal me,” she said, holding her hand out to him.
"Nature is better than man for healing her own poisons."
Ben stood. “Well, if we're going to ride, I'd better go see if I can make friends with a horse,” he said.
Regan kept her gaze on her hand as Peter turned it over and spread a thin
film of green across her palm. The salve was pungent, smelling of mint and pine. It melted into her skin, soothing the pain to a dull ache. “You have gentle hands."
His fingers hesitated. “I wanted to be a healer, not a mage. For a long time I fought my destiny, but Dirkk's evil and Daradawn's need forced me to acknowledge the Power."
"You would have made a good healer."
His hand tightened on hers and Regan winced. “Instead I use them to kill.” He released her hand and placed the top back on the salve.
Regan stared at him, but Peter's expression discouraged further conversation. Beside her, Maggie whined and nosed her elbow. Regan turned away from Peter and wrapped both arms around the basset hound's neck. “How's it feel not to be a dragon snack?"
Peter dropped the salve into her lap. “Here, you will need to rub this in once a day for the next five days."
"Five days? I hope it travels well,” she said.
"I am sure it will. It is made by elven healers."
"That's not what I meant. In five days I will be going home."
He traced the blue flame mark on his cheek. “Yes, and we have much to accomplish before you leave."
"And we will get nothing done with you just sitting there,” Angus said from behind her. “I have saddled the horses."
Regan looked beyond Peter's shoulder and saw Ben standing at the head of a roan mare. She scrambled to her feet. “So where is this cavern?"
"Halfway down the mountain."
"How will we avoid Zara to get there?"
"We play statues."
Regan frowned. “Statues?"
"We walk, leading the horses. If Zara flies over, we freeze."
"Won't the horses spook?"
"The horses are elven stock,” he said. “They will remain calm as long as we do."
"And if I move?” she asked, knowing the answer in her heart.
"You die,” he said simply.
Regan looked into Angus's face, a flippant remark on her lips. His steady silver gaze challenged hers, and she swallowed the biting comment. “Well, Maggie and I are ready,” she said. She strode by Peter and crossed to Ben with Maggie at her heels. “Did you hear?"
Ben nodded. “This is Gilda,” he said, stroking the mare's nose.
Maggie sniffed the horse's hoof. Gilda lowered her head and nosed the basset hound's ear. Maggie shook her ears, then turned and touched her nose to the horse's.
"I think they like each other,” Ben said.
"It appears so.” Regan reached up and scratched between the mare's white-tipped ears. “Do you think she could carry two?"
"No,” Peter said from behind her. “You will ride Skylar with me."
Regan stiffened. He's as free with his orders as Jack was, she fumed. “And if I choose not to?"
Peter studied her face for a moment. “Then you can walk, but I do not recommend it. Come, we have wasted enough time."
"Why don't you just say, ‘heel'?” she said hotly.
"What?"
"Never mind. You wouldn't get it."
A horse snorted behind them. Regan turned and saw Angus walking toward them. Behind him trailed a coal black gelding. The horse's head towered above the dwarf. Knowing his love for silver, she had expected to see a fancy bridle, but the horse's neck was bare.
Angus walked by with a curt nod of his head.
Peter faced Regan. “Angus rides Zax."
"No bridle?"
"Dwarves do not believe in the ownership of animals. Zax chooses to carry him or Angus would walk."
"How does Zax know where to go?"
"Angus tells him."
"Of course, why didn't I think of that?” Regan asked, her voice tinged with sarcasm.
"It is understandable.” Peter said, walking to the head of a white stallion. He whispered in the horse's ear. That must be Skylar, she decided. “The dashing hero on his white stallion,” she muttered. “How cliché."
"We go,” Angus called, then lifted an arm and impatiently waved them forward.
Ben led Gilda by Regan, Maggie trotting at the mare's side. Regan glanced at the cave's entrance and then the sunlight beyond. “What if that dragon is waiting out there for us to stick our heads out?"
"It will be all right. We will protect you,” Peter said from beside her. “Now we must go. Kelsey needs us."
* * * *
Outside the cave, the sun rode high in the blue sky. Far below, the oak trees looked like a green patchwork quilt. Angus turned and started up the mountainside. “I thought the cavern was down,” Regan said.
The dwarf turned. His white eyebrows drew together in a solid line. “No talking."
Regan nodded curtly and fastened her eyes on Gilda's rump.
* * * *
The mountain path grew steep, winding through sharp, jagged outcroppings of red rock. Pale, spindly grass forced its way out of crevices and brushed Regan's calves. A cold breeze sprang up and plastered her thin shirt against her body. She shivered; from fear or cold, she wasn't sure. She found that her gaze constantly strayed upwards.
"You should watch the ground,” Peter warned softly. “This is not a good place for a twisted ankle."
Ahead of them Angus halted in front of a huge boulder. The dwarf walked back and spoke to Ben. Ben nodded. Angus retraced his steps, then disappeared behind the boulder with Zax close at his heels.
Ben moved to Regan and Peter. He leaned close and whispered. “Angus wants us to remain here for a few minutes."
"We are almost at the summit,” Peter said, his voice even lower. “Just ahead is Zara's cave. Angus goes to check."
Regan stared at him in disbelief. “We've walked to the dragon's front door?"
"Zara does not hunt close to home; therefore, her lair is the safest place to pass."
"And if she's finished hunting?"
"Then she will be asleep. Either way we are safe."
"I hope you're..."
A roar shattered the mid-afternoon silence and drowned out the rest of Regan's words, and for a third time that day a black shadow coated the mountainside.
"Do not move,” Peter ordered.
Her stomach knotting, Regan gazed upward at the creature of myth that soared above. The dragon was as big as a 747 jumbo jet. My God, you could easily fit six seats across that back, she mused in amazement. A gilded wing dipped and the dragon spiraled downward.
"It is okay. She is headed to her lair and has not seen us,” Peter said.
Maggie whined low in her throat. Regan stretched her left hand down and rested it on the quivering dog's head. “Take it easy, girl. We've been through this before."
"Keep her still,” Peter said. “Zara is circling back. The wind will hide our voices, but she has the eyes of a falcon.” Peter's gaze dropped to the basset hound and he frowned. “Talk to Maggie. She needs your voice. If she bolts we are all dead."
"We're just fine, aren't we, Maggie?” she said. “We live in San Francisco. No big lizard's gonna scare us.” Maggie whimpered and Regan felt the little dog's compact body tighten like a coiled spring.
"Listen to me, girl.” Regan licked her dry lips. “The waves play themselves out on a beach of coral sand. A gentle breeze kisses a feathery frond of green. Sip from my glass of peace, relaxed in the golden sun of Mother Nature.” Beneath her hand, Maggie's body relaxed.
"It is good to see that Kelsey was right about your words of power.” Peter said, then glanced up. “Zara comes again and very low. Do not move."
Regan looked up and gulped. Low wasn't the word. Only a few feet above her head, golden scales as big as dinner plates encased the enormous length of a sinuous tail. From each scale. Regan's pale, wide-eyed face reflected back to her. Her images went on and on as the dragon sailed over her head. I could touch her. What does a dragon feel like? Her hand drifted upward.
"What are you doing?” Peter demanded in a harsh whisper.
"Just a little higher,” she whispered. Then her fingertips grazed a warm, slick surface and a t
ingle raced along her arm, banishing the pricks of fire earlier dulled by Peter's salve. Magic. The thought raced through her head. This is what real magic feels like, and I just touched it. Then the sun was beating against the top of her head again. Holding her breath, Regan watched the dragon crest the mountain and disappear.
A hand grabbed her shoulder and jerked her around. Air rushed from her lungs in an angry whoosh. “What the ... let go of me."
Peter glared down at her. “You could have gotten us killed."
Regan glared back. “She felt nothing."
"If you wish to take foolish chances, do so with your own life."
She pressed her lips together and raised her chin. “If I had the chance I'd do it again."
"Then you are a fool, for this is not your world, and you know nothing of its dangers."
Regan saw Ben watching the two of then and felt a rush of blood come to her cheeks. “You're a hypocrite,” she snapped, “we both know if you had the chance to touch a creature of myth in my world you would."
"Not if it endangered the rest of the company I traveled with.” He spat the words at her angrily.
"The rest of the company? Or is it that my death ruins your plans?"
He stared at her, then turned away. “If you believe such, you do not know me at all."
"You're right. I don't know you, and I don't think I want to.” She regretted the childish words and wished them back as soon as they had left her lips.
"If that is what you want, then so be it. When we reach camp, I will turn you over to Thomas. He will teach you what you need to know."
"Whatever,” Regan said with a shrug. She pushed by him and walked to where Ben stood.
"Regan, why do you treat him like that? He's not Jack. Anything he says is for your own good,” Ben said.
Regan flashed him a look of irritation. “For my own good?” she mimicked. “That's what Jack always said, too. No man will ever control me again."
"Not even if it saves your life?” Ben asked, stroking Maggie's ears.
Regan ignored the question. “I think we should be looking for Angus, don't you?” She sidestepped around Gilda and walked toward the rock where Angus and Zax had disappeared.
"You will wait for us,” Peter ordered.
The Blue Flame [Book 1 of the Daradawn Series] Page 7
