Hugo followed. “Really? You found all of them?”
The girl, the one called Lou. And she is with an orc. No sign of the wizard or the boy with the glasses.
The dragon stopped and swept wide his wings. A dozen dragons drifted over, forming a semi-circle around their leader.
Silurf looked at Hugo. We can no longer use our wings unless we pool our remaining magic. You should not try to use your spirit form for a while. It needs time to heal within you. I will take you to Lou. She is in trouble.
“Baron Orb?”
No. Please give me a moment. Magic spilled forth from Silurf’s fellow dragons and funneled into the green dragon’s wings. They enlarged until they were impressive and once again vital.
The rest looked wiped out and smaller.
Climb on. The dragon nodded to a small saddle strapped at the base of his neck. Hugo hadn’t noticed it before.
Silurf snaked his head down to the ground, and Hugo climbed on, tucking his feet in the stirrups and grabbing an anvil-shaped knob that jutted upward in the front of the saddle. Was that called a saddlehorn or pommel? Neither sounded right. He’d played very few western video games and had never set foot on a farm.
The dragon beat his wings, and suddenly they shot into the air.
Hugo gasped, surprised at how strong the wind tugged at him. He leaned closer to the saddle and the dragon’s neck and tightened his grip. With his legs pressed against his ride, he felt the strong muscles underneath shift and move.
Silurf circled wide above the dragon settlement and a portion of the rock lake before passing over the forest edge. He accelerated.
Hugo glanced back, marveling at how the dragon alternated between pumping his wings several times then holding them outstretched and gliding for a stretch. When Silurf extended his wings, they glowed, casting out small amounts of magic that formed an energy contrail. Hugo wondered if the dragon had borrowed enough magic for their aerial mission if he shed a little as they progressed.
“You have enough magic to get me there and back?”
Yes. No worries about that, but I’m not sure we can do much in the way of rescue.
Hugo looked ahead, trying to see beyond the forest.
Lou is trapped amid sand zombies.
“What?”
We will think of something. Let me get you there and then we can strategize. I must see how far into the dunes they are.
Hugo recalled the desert bordering the forest. Nelson had said to steer clear, and then the orc had mentioned zombies, but with how crazy Horvuk was, Hugo hadn’t taken his comment seriously.
He gripped the saddle even tighter and mumbled to himself, “Really wish I had a weapon.”
Chapter 20
Lou Fights Her Way to Freedom Almost
Lou awoke to a pounding headache. She sat up and cradled her head in her hands, rocking back and forth slightly.
“Cease your movements, Lou.” Horvuk’s normally booming voice came out as a whisper. His muted remark stopped her cold.
She suddenly became aware of how much give there was to the ground. She leaned right and felt it shift.
Sand!
She dropped a hand down and scooped up a handful.
Horvuk grimaced. “Don’t do that again! They hunt by tracking the vibrations. Just don’t stir the sand around us.”
Lou tightened her grip, hoping to stop the sand from spilling any more. A faint trickle seeped out, the grains hitting the ground in utter silence. She took in a ragged breath and looked in the direction of the orc’s voice. “Sorry.”
Horvuk crouched on one knee, eyeing the red sand around them nervously. “We were fortunate our landing and slide down that dune didn’t attract any.” He pointed upslope.
They were at the base of a tall dune, evidence of their landing and tumble down the slope was clear. She could see the difference in the impressions each made; the orc’s were deeper and wider with more pronounced troughs carved into the dune. His spear stuck out of the ground at least twenty feet upslope.
Horvuk noticed her attention on the weapon.
“Too far out of reach. Either of us went for it, they’d surely surface.”
“Surface?” She brought her hand in and poured the rest of the sand on her stomach.
“Yes, they lurk underground. Don’t you recall the wizard’s warning?”
Lou did now. “Sorry. It’s just . . . all this . . . is a lot.”
She looked around. The dunes stretched out in three directions. Only behind them were the dunes close to the desert’s edge. She spied just the tops of a few trees past the large dune they’d rolled down. Several chunks of stone, formerly known as the keep, littered the sand. It was a miracle none had hit them. Although, Lou didn’t remember much of her time airborne. She had the wizard to thank for the protective magic he had surrounded each of them in at the last minute. The bad guys had done the same, too.
“Hey, you’re not hopping mad. What gives?”
This was the longest he’d ever been calm. Would the orc suddenly flare up and jump to his feet and dare the zombies to take him down?
“If I really work at it, I can keep my emotions at bay.” He gave her a pained half-smile. “It’s quite taxing. You don’t know how bad I want to let loose with a battlecry and charge up to fetch my spear.”
She laughed.
The orc stiffened, causing a fraction of sand to slide. “You shame me with ridicule? Do you not fear my might?”
Lou threw out her hands and gestured for calm. “Hey, easy. No one doubts your ferociousness. I’m sure if one of these zombies pops up, you’ll be all kinds of nasty to it.”
He crossed his arms. “Most certainly.” His face scrunched up and then softened before becoming downcast. “My apologies. I thought I had my anger under control.”
Movement along the top of the dune they’d tumbled down caught her eye.
It was a small, brown-furred animal with four stilt-like legs, looking like a deer, except for the fact that its head was boxy and featured antlers that resembled cacti, even down to the hundreds of small needles, which gave the antlers a fuzzy appearance.
“What’s that?” she pointed at the animal wobbling onto the sand and emitting a mew.
“A yulud, a young one. Mom must not have kept a close enough eye on her litter. She’d never let it wander onto the sand.”
The sand off to the left swelled, and the raised clump traveled toward the yulud.
The animal slipped and rolled downhill a few feet before using its antlers to halt its fall. It stood and shook the sand from its fur.
The mound, now large enough to pitch from, closed in.
The yulud suddenly registered the churning sand and panicked. It bleated and scrambled up the dune, sliding back half as much as it surged forward.
“Will its mom save it?”
Horvuk shook his head. “Doubtful. With at least ten newborns to take care of, she probably didn’t even notice one missing.”
Lou jumped up and instantly regretted it.
The mound halted. She’d gotten its attention. So stupid. Why’d I make a move?
There was no telling how many zombies were underneath.
“Freeze,” the orc hissed.
The yulud took a major tumble. That provoked the mound to resume its hunt.
Lou cringed, expecting a zombie or three to burst out and drag the animal under.
Seconds later, a lone zombie surfaced, spraying sand everywhere as it lunged at the yulud.
The undead thing was a blackened husk, with brown blotches mottling its loose flesh. Chunks were missing, exposing white bone along its arms, legs, and torso. Its bald head was little more than a skull, with skin pulled tight over severe cheekbones and deep sockets.
The zombie sunk its claws in the yulud and clamped down on its neck with its jaws.
The animal slammed its antlers into the undead’s side, leaving behind several of its needles. The defense didn’t bother the zombie.
It yanked the animal down, and, in seconds, the predator and its prey disappeared beneath the sand. The mound shifted about, and Lou thought she saw a hoof stick out and then quickly retreat before the raised area collapsed and the dune was again still.
The attack had been ruthlessly efficient. Lou couldn’t recall seeing much blood in the animal’s brief struggle. Still, she felt sick.
Horvuk sensed her distress. “Hold it in.” Intensity eclipsed his sensitivity, causing his left eye to twitch. “It knows there’s other prey nearby . . . thanks to you.”
Lou hated how the orc was focusing his rising anger on her.
“Sorry. My first time dealing with zombies.”
The orc motioned for her to sit down as carefully as she could. “Better to keep low. Less likely to disturb the sand that way.”
The sand did feel more unstable under her feet compared to when she’d been sitting on it. She lowered herself carefully.
Horvuk stared up at the spot where the zombie had disappeared. “It’s still there.”
“How do we get out of this?”
“Wait it out, maybe.” The orc scowled.
“What, you don’t know? How is that possible? You were all bragging how your relative took out a bunch of these things.” She felt herself getting worked up.
“I embellished that incident. Truth be told, he ran a few feet into the desert and then dashed out before one could snag him. He did have to evade its claws.”
She stared at him. “Really?”
“Okay, none burst out of the sand. Happy? He got lucky. And that’s a good thing; he’s my favorite uncle.”
Lou eyed the dune, searching for even the faintest ripple.
“There’s a bright side.”
She said, “What could possibly be the bright side of hanging out stock still on a dune as the sun beats down on you?”
“I do know they don’t hunt in packs, that each stakes out a territory, and they don’t share their kills. So we just have to get past one, tops.”
“You have a strange opinion of what makes for a bright side.”
The orc held up a finger and smiled. “I thought of another bright side.”
She sent him an icy glare.
“Gives us time to better get to know one another.”
Lou scoffed and let out a huff. That didn’t discourage the orc at all.
“I’ll skip over my early years and get to the good stuff, my first true bout with bloodlust and my first solo hunt.”
Lou looked away from the orc to safely roll her eyes. She was no dummy. Horvuk might be relatively calm for the moment, but she knew not to poke the beast.
****
Lou relished the lull in their one-sided conversation. After what had to be at least thirty minutes of excruciating detail about the orc’s various milestones, all events centering on mayhem and violence, he finally seemed tapped out.
“Do you think it’s gone?” Lou was growing thirsty. Why hadn’t the explosion conveniently dropped a pack of supplies their way?
They’d seen no movement along the dune since the yulud had been swallowed up.
“Your turn.” The orc smiled.
She didn’t really have much to say. What could she say? What could she possibly have in common with a creature who was so erratic?
“Do you miss your berserker rage magic?”
Horvuk did a double-take and, for a second, it looked like her question might trigger his rage, but the orc took in a calming breath.
“In many ways, having such a dominant feeling made decisions easier. I mean, we all knew how we would wind up. In a constant stage of bloodlust really narrows one’s career path.”
She pictured orcs undertaking different jobs: directing traffic, teaching school, nursing, performing in local theater even. All the scenarios ended in destruction, especially the theater one.
“I don’t know how other orcs feel, but I actually like experiencing other emotions. It’s not at all easy, and sometimes I wish I didn’t swing from one extreme to the other, but I also know I’ll get better at it, I hope.” He smiled.
She laughed. “You do have a nice smile.”
“As do you.”
They each stared at the few lazy clouds moving across the sky.
Horvuk said, “Tell me, how do you feel about your emotions?”
“What do you mean?”
“I sense you like to keep them close. Except for how you got a little worked up at me and thoroughly sarcastic earlier when I tried to point out the bright sides, you’re quite guarded even alongside your friends.”
She tensed. A seed of anger germinated deep inside. She didn’t like that the orc had been studying her, noting so much of her actions or inactions.
“It’s nothing.”
“If you stay so bottled up, it will eventually get the better of you. You will unleash a nasty storm at some point.” He looked up at the dune. “Maybe not here. Jumping up and chewing me out for overstepping might not be wise in this instance.” He smiled.
She really did want to stomp about and put him in his place. Who was he to tell her about her feelings?
“I have to keep it all in.”
“All? Anger? Sadness? Joy? Fear? Why?”
She took in a long breath and exhaled slowly. “My dad died. Of cancer.”
“And you pushed everyone else away because your father wanted that for you?”
She felt the anger stretch into a sprout, winding its way up through her chest. “No, don’t say that. He was goofy and bright and also sad and sometimes angry, especially near the end. I overheard him talking to Mom one night about all that he would miss with me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I want to relax and let my emotions out, but . . .”
“You just don’t want it to lead to hurt.”
“Like, if I say the wrong thing, I’ll bring down everyone else around me.”
You think if you tell Hugo and Nelson how sad you feel about losing your dad, it will drag them down, too?”
“No . . . yes . . . maybe.” She wiped at her eyes. The anger inside was now a branching weed, its many growths threatening to snake up her throat and out her mouth. “Or drive them away. Nobody wants to be around someone who’s constantly in the dumps.”
“You’ve shown me your anger and sadness, and I don’t want to run away.”
She looked up at him, noting his large, soft eyes. The anger retreated from a choking weed to a sprout again.
“I do, however, want to crush this beast you call cancer.” He carefully punched his open palm.
The anger was now a seed. She felt she could make even that disappear but decided against it. She needed to live with all her emotions.
“Wow, you’re quite wise.”
The orc beamed and flexed his shoulder spikes. “I am, aren’t I? And strikingly handsome and quite sculpted.” He flexed his biceps.
Before she could thank the orc, a shadow passed over them.
They both looked up to see a dragon fly by overhead. She recognized Silurf immediately.
The green dragon circled back and tipped to the side as he passed, revealing he carried a passenger.
Hugo waved. “Not a great place for a picnic, Lou.”
She was happy to see him back in his real body.
The dragon came back around.
Hugo said, “We can’t land, and Silurf says he can’t snatch you up without harming you.”
The dragon soared out of range and then flew by again.
Hugo said, “My ride needs to conserve his magic, so we’re landing. We’ll think of something.”
Silurf cut left and landed behind the dune, well away from the sand zombie.
Horvuk frowned. “I was hoping for the smart one. Hugo is . . . a lot.”
She laughed. “Coming from a moody orc, that’s saying something.”
Horvuk winced and then scowled. “You think now is the time for humor? You dare make a joke when our lives hang by a thread?”
/> She shrank back. The orc was indulging in his rage. Just how far would he go?
He made a fist and drew it back. Just as abruptly, he smiled and flexed open his fingers. “Just kidding. Really, I wasn’t thinking about reworking your spine.”
She let out a calming breath and stared at the spear. “I think I have a plan.”
The orc leaned in. “Do tell.”
And she did.
When she was done, the orc whistled. “It’s risky, but better than my plan. I definitely don’t think either of us could beat a zombie when it comes to a waiting game.”
“Okay, then let’s go. We have to time this just right.” Lou eased herself to her feet.
The orc did the same but moved even slower than she did to be on the safe side. “Ready when you are.”
She clapped her hands together and took off toward the spear.
The sand at the top of the dune churned. The telltale mound made an appearance and shot toward Lou’s pronounced footfalls.
She froze.
Horvuk took off, thumping his chest as he high-stepped uphill, being sure to angle himself away from Lou.
The zombie changed direction and went after the orc’s more powerful vibrations.
Horvuk plowed through the sand for a few more steps before grinding to a halt. He made himself a statue, even ignoring a pesky insect that landed on his nose.
Lou took off again, smacking the sand with her open palms and really clomping up the dune with a heavy foot. She reached the spear and pulled it free.
The zombie again pursued her.
She took four more steps and then jammed the spear into the dune and thrust her body upward. Her feet left the sand, and she vaulted forward a yard before hitting the sand on her knees.
I need more thrust. Was hoping to go at least six feet.
She didn’t move.
The orc scrambled up the dune. The zombie ground to a halt, almost halfway between them. Horvuk flung himself backwards, performing three impactful somersaults before springing to his feet and rushing uphill again.
Lou frowned. The goal wasn’t to lose ground. Still, their ploy worked.
The sand zombie steamed toward him much faster than before.
Heroes of Perpetua Page 22
