When I look up again, I peer into glittering green and violet gemstones—Adom’s eyes—watching me keenly. His long neck bends until hot breath tickles my face as he says in dragon tongue, “Get on.”
My feet move quickly, toes catching a groove in his scaly neck and using the horns and ridges to propel myself forward. My bare feet are adept at grappling with the slick scales, and I take advantage of friction and balance to clamber up his back. Once I reach the broadest spot between his neck and shoulders, I split my legs, collapse against his twitching body, and cling tight to his mane and neck. It’s been a long time since I last left the mountain. On occasion, one of the other dragons takes me out for fresh sky because I’m becoming wilder and smellier than Muuth. But not Adom. Not since the first time.
“My parents are gone. Who will watch over me?”
“I will.”
“You will?”
“But you’ll come to hate me for it.”
Adom was right. I do hate him. He tricked me in the worst way, took advantage of my innocence and trust. He did not try to make it right, after. He never apologized. I have no memories of kindness, of humanity, from him. He’s a blank, cold slab of emotionless granite.
This is the closest we have been to one another, physically, since that time. If I’d grabbed a knife from his room, I could take it out of the satchel and plunge it into his neck. But he checked the satchel. Now I have the scales, which, if Muuth’s words count for anything, could prove useful as long as I survive the trip to Trana.
Adom takes one great leap and settles on the yawning summit. His tail totters over the edge of the gaping hole. Below, the central cave looks like a black pit. I lean closer, squeezing legs around his neck, wrapping fingers and wrists around the loose folds of his mane. If I fall now, I’ll tumble into the farthest recesses of the mountain.
His wings expand. Whoosh. Sound batters my eardrums. The ascent sends my head spinning out of control, and I lose all sense of direction. The next leap causes us to spiral out to the base of the mountain. My weight pitches forward, only stopped from rolling off and slamming into the tree growth ahead of us by the vertical angle of his neck. My stomach shoots to my throat, and I have the strongest urge to vomit. The ascent is always the worst part for me.
Sunlight burns the top of my head while cool wind beats against my body.
I lived in that hole for twelve years.
Adom’s wings open, broad webs of silver as fine as any art a spider could craft, and we soar through the sky. The forest blossoms in the showy beauty of spring.
Acres of green and brown cover the island, a land fertile with life. Now the beach stretches out below us, a long white line snaking the forest and the mountain. Adom roars the sound thunder makes, and I hear the echoing response of the herd where they lie, indistinguishable from the rocks, along the shoreline. We sail over the deep blue expanse. I cling to Adom, unease replacing my fascination.
Vibrant blue-green color invades my vision. From this distance, I see the spray of foamy sea waves and massive creatures moving along the shadowy depths. Maybe it is Neller and Greego traveling deep below the waves.
A huge creature emerges, flat tail shooting sprays in our direction. It spurts a stream of water, and Adom dips lower, so that we are flying perpendicular to it. I have a moment of terror as he tilts sideways and I feel myself slipping, certain I will fall into the deep only feet away from the creature’s massive mouth. “Adom…” I start, then bite my lower lip. I’m off balance, my body sliding forward. I cling to Adom’s neck and my legs lock together at the ankles. For one exhilarating second, the hungry eye of the creature follows me before it dives, swimming away.
Adom’s body rights itself. We sail upward and alongside a flock of birds. Adom roars a gentle rumble, sending the flock off in every direction. He slides into a cloud, and my eyes perceive nothing but fog. Adom’s scales dampen, slick as a fish, and my skin slips against them.
Then he is gone from under me, and my body is weightless for one breath. My heart shoots to my throat. I drop, scream, and he is beneath me again, his wings sweeping over me like a protective casing. “Damn you, Adom,” I curse, smacking the back of his neck with my palm in one quick rap before I clutch him tight again. Beneath me, his body rumbles—he’s laughing. He thinks me funny. I fume.
By the time the ocean ends and land begins, I have barely regained my ability to breathe. Adom flies lower, until we skim the tops of trees. Leaves scatter and rise around us, a blanket of colorful foliage. Home. He lets out a soft growl and with a rough thump he digs his claws into the ground, locking us into a secure position. My body jerks back with the force of the landing. Muscles in my shoulders and neck take the brunt of the motion and keep me from tumbling back.
“Get off,” he commands in raspy dragon tongue.
I slide from his back as quickly as I’m able. The world rocks beneath me. I tumble to the ground and clutch my gut to stop the spinning sensation.
Adom shrinks into his human form, once again naked. “Land sickness.”
“I know that!” With shaking hands, I pull out the black robe and toss it to him. My stomach lurches. I shut my eyes and swallow until my gorge settles. Then I crack an eye open.
Adom ties the robe together and approaches me. He bends carefully—as though his body aches, too—and touches my damp temple with cool, firm fingers. “Are you hurt?”
Both eyes are fully open now, and I stare at him with silent defiance.
Shadows obscure his face. “I didn’t intend to frighten you.”
“You didn’t,” I insist, batting his fingers away from my sweat-beaded forehead.
His eyes are serious and probing. “You screamed.”
“You were showing off,” I accuse. “I could have died.”
He touches my shoulder lightly, as if he expects me to push him away again. “I swear you’re safe when you travel me. I won’t let anything happen to you, Rat. You don’t need to be frightened.” His legs straighten, and he extends a hand. “Do you need help standing?”
I don’t need his help or his pity. I stare straight into those familiar green and violet eyes, throw back my head, and bark out a laugh. Dew trapped in the moss beneath me soaks through my backside, but I enjoy the damp because it reminds me I am alive and this much closer to freedom.
His concern dissipates. “Get up.”
Shaking, I place my palms flat on the moist soil and push off the ground. He reaches to help me and I take a firm, deliberate step away. “How can I assist you, master?”
He rubs a spot between his eyebrows where there is an angry vein reacting like a cat caught in a burlap sack. “Walk three paces to the right and lift the shrubbery.”
I give him an exaggerated curtsy and prance away. Underneath the brambly bushes, I find a pair of clean trousers and a snow-white tunic. The fabric sticks to long thorns as I pull the clothes away from the needling shrub. I hand the pile to him and look away.
“I don’t normally bring a robe with me,” he murmurs.
“Oh?” While he is dressing, I consider my escape route.
“I did so for your benefit. To make you feel more comfortable.” The tunic over his head muffles his voice. Now is my chance. I should run while he’s distracted.
But where can I go? From above I saw nothing but grass and trees and fields. I could be lost in this wilderness for days before I find civilization. You want to be free, don’t you?
In a split-second decision, the muscles in my legs spring into action, almost as if they planned this all along. Then I am gone, away from the copse, away from Adom, charging through the tangled forest. I don’t dare turn around for fear that he is there, right behind me.
I duck around an enormous tree and continue in a different direction. My feet are well accustomed to an uneven landscape, to rocks and roots and squishy mud between my toes. My lungs are u
sed to climbing at high altitudes. I’m capable of running long distances if I have to. On the island, I used to run through the forest all the way to the beach, navigating all manner of terrain. And though I lost my balance in the caves this morning, my ankle feels fine now.
A shadow blots out the sun.
My stomach jolts and my heart suspends out of time. Does he see me? Do the trees shield me from his merciless, dragon eyes? Shivers of fear trail down my spine. Lodin’s ashes, what am I doing? Hairs rise on the back of my neck. One blast of heat, and I’m gone.
I round another tree and suddenly I am standing in another copse, exposed, completely visible to the bird-like shadow looming above. Wind presses me down, stirring up dirt and branches and pebbles. I retreat into the forest, arms shielding my face.
Adom lands in front of me, crushing saplings, blocking my path of escape. Bark splinters and cedar cracks beneath his uncompromising weight. He changes in seconds and grabs my shoulder with iron-tight fingers. “Don’t move.” Irritation coats his steely voice.
Every muscle in my body stiffens, alarmed.
He speaks again, low and threatening. “Try it again and I’ll send you back to the island.”
“By boat—with an armed escort?”
A muscle moves in his jaw. “Don’t test me.”
I keep my eyes firmly on his face, aware he isn’t dressed. “I’m sorry, Adom. I won’t do it again.” Of course, this is a promise I fully intend to break sooner rather than later.
Heat cools in his eyes. His mouth twitches. “I expect you won’t.”
“Where are your clothes?”
“Ruined, thanks to your failed getaway attempt.”
He needn’t sound so smug about it. “You don’t have a plan for everything?”
“Yes,” he says with a flicker of a smile. “Come with me.”
He pushes me in front of him, watching with the eyes of a hawk. I am sure he expects me to try to escape again. I’ll have to lay low for a while, wait until his guard is down, and try later. At least the other dragons aren’t here. If they were, I wouldn’t have gotten away with merely a stern word from Adom. They would have hung me upside down from a stalactite until I saw stars, or made me catch a wild boar without a weapon, or crawl through beached jellyfish.
We walk for a short while and reemerge in yet another copse where I find a horse tied to a tree. The dappled creature doesn’t start when it catches sight of us, but continues grazing peacefully. Adom whistles, and the ears of the creature respond with a twitch. Adom reaches for the satchel tied to the creature’s back. He undoes the strings and pulls out another set of clothes complete with a pair of sturdy black riding boots. He changes facing me. While I keep my gaze fixed on the sky, I sense his sharp, suspicious eyes on me.
“Finished,” he announces.
“That’s a nice horse,” I comment drily. “Who’d you steal it from?”
He grins. “Did your father ever teach you to ride?”
I jerk my head, unhappy with the reminder of my family.
“Then you’ll ride behind me.”
I want to ask why the horse is conveniently tied up when and where we need him, but I doubt he’ll answer. “Where are you taking me, Snake?”
Adom shows perfect white teeth. “To a village.” He takes hold of the horse and mounts with ease and precision. Then he holds out a hand. “Let’s go, Rat.”
Hesitantly, I take his hand.
He swings me onto the back of the horse. “You might need to hold onto me.”
Because I’m already beginning to slip off the broad creature’s sweaty backside, I comply with a strange combination of revulsion and alarm. This is different from holding on to Adom the dragon. His slim waist is warm and solid beneath my touch. Human.
Anger curls in the pit of my belly.
“Tighter. I don’t want you to fall off.”
Frowning, I hold him tighter, making sure a knuckle finds the underside of a rib for good measure. “Better?”
He speaks to the horse instead. The animal jolts, kicking dust as it moves, and I lose my grip. My satchel slips low on my waist. I adjust it and hold Adom more firmly.
We ride past small brown cottages and quilted farmlands. A small girl plays outside. My mind crashes. That was me, once.
Run away, I warn her. Run, before he kills your family!
The landscape stretches all the way to the horizon. Flat, green moors fill my vision. Even in my early memories, Trana never appeared this vast. A sea of grassy plains sways in the breeze, only broken up by the occasional tree. Before this, no one could have convinced me Trana looked any color but black. In my imaginings, Adom scorched the whole countryside.
When we reach the outskirts of a village, Adom slows the snorting horse to a trot. Cottages lining the road are quaint and well-kept, with rose bushes and petunias adorning walkways and lovely young shrubs shaped into animal forms. Chimney stacks spout smoke above lumber or clay houses, hinting at warm fires inside the cozy abodes. Cows graze behind fences, not in caves. The sheep are full and fluffy, not scrawny and wild like the desiccated critters that scurry around the dragon warren. A young boy tends them, sitting watch on a fence post.
I had brothers once. The tip of my tongue retraces friendly banter around the dinner table. Sammy, shy and self-conscious, often smuggled extra portions of sweet pies to me when Mama wasn’t looking. Strong Nathan hoisted me over his shoulder and carried me round the barn. Musical Collum sometimes played the violin after dinner. We got along quite well, and when we didn’t there was always another person around. Now, it’s only Muuth.
“What are you thinking, Rat?”
“I’m thinking of everything you stole.”
Adom’s whole body tenses beneath my fingers.
His reaction makes me think I’ve struck a chord. I smile serenely.
Nearing the village, I spot a group of people gathered around a small tower of wood and stone. I point at them. “What are they doing?”
“Pulling water from the well.” He sounds distant.
Have I offended him? Adom never cared about my opinions before.
Made of gray, crumbling rock, the well seems to be the focal point of the peasants’ attention. A wooden overhang shelters it from passing birds. Three buckets lay overturned on the ground beside the structure, and the women surrounding the well vie for these precious vessels. Everywhere I look, there are people dressed in colorful skirts and laced tunics. Studying the front of my worn attire, I realize how out of place and time I look. How old is this piece of faded, brown cloth? I don’t look anything like the villagers.
In contrast, the red and black outfit Adom has donned fits in all the right places, accenting his broad shoulders and slender figure. Buttons on his carmine vest are made of brass, and there is gold embroidery along his neckline and sleeves.
“Headed to the inn?” croaks an old woman who stands no taller than four feet.
Adom bobs his head. “Will the scorching make it hard to get a room?”
“Naw. They’re taking in more survivors these days, but from what I hear, most of the rooms are open. Make yourself at home.” The old woman slaps her palms together. “They’re always thrilled to see you there.”
Her accent catches my attention. It takes a moment to realize I’ve grown accustomed to both Muuth’s hideous slurs and Adom’s meticulous enunciations, and can no longer remember my own native dialect. How could I let that happen – does that make me a kind of traitor? I correct certain pronunciations in my head. Then I focus on her words: they’re always thrilled to see you there. What’s that supposed to mean?
Adom kicks the flanks of his horse. The beast trots in the direction of the inn. Only a few buildings make up the village, with the largest in the center of the square. A wooden sign hangs above the front that reads “Havensworth Tavern and Inn.” Then, in l
ittle words, it declares itself to be the “Finest in Town.” Probably the only inn and tavern in town.
Children scramble underneath the sign, poking at squawking chickens with sticks and playing an unusual form of “catch me.” The game consists of a dragon side and a human side. The human group is currently winning. Adom doesn’t seem nearly as amused about this as I am.
“Stay here.” He slides off the horse. Stalking past the shrieking children, he enters the building. I watch him through the window. He’s speaking to a younger man at the counter.
I contemplate riding away on the horse. I’m not sure quite how to make the thing move, let alone how I’ll stay on the creature’s back with nothing to hold. My thighs ache, chafed by the horse’s hot, hairy hide. I am not certain I like traveling by horseback; it is too much like traveling by dragon. But, if I leave now, Adom might never catch me. Or maybe he’ll return and find me gone, change into a dragon, and scorch the entire village to punish me. I wouldn’t put it past him. There is no freedom in guilt.
Adom emerges not long after. The inn proprietor, a stubbly man with a sniveling set to his features, follows him. “I’ll have this horse taken to our stable right away, m’lord,” the man says, rubbing his fingers together like matchsticks.
A young woman with vibrant red hair and a freckled, pink complexion bursts from the building, blinking at the sun. She wears a bright blue frock, and her necklace encircles a blazing red stone that reminds me of the dragon scales in my satchel.
“Raina,” the inn proprietor says to her. “Show the lord and his... girl... to their room.”
Some hot, uncomfortable emotion sprouts up inside. His? I want to spit, but hold my tongue.
“Sure thing, boss man,” she replies in a singsong voice, practically skipping up to Adom.
Adom helps me dismount. I avoid touching him more than is necessary, and my feet land in what I hope is only a mud puddle. Raina takes us up a long flight of uneven stairs and through narrow and stuffy hallways. The scent of roasted partridge and whiskey coats the walls, and as we thump through the corridors, doors open and curious eyes peek out at us, watching our procession toward the room at the end of the hall. Raina unlocks the door and swings it open with a flourish.
Slither Page 3
