If these scorpions were the type that had fine hairs along their underbodies to note the presence of prey, then she'd be stung and devoured within seconds.
Thank heavens they didn't have the equivalent on their backs.
So running wouldn't work.
Neither would be waiting to be rescued. There were too many teeth and claws in the way. Ideally she needed to get up and high beyond the ring of dragons and beyond the canyon itself.
Oh. Her mouth went dry as she realized that this scorpion was facing off against the alpha dragon directly.
Perfect.
The dragons had smashed into the brothers repeatedly, crushing and tearing simultaneously. She had to get off fast. But—
The deafening challenge of the dragons roaring and the scorpions shrieking worsened as all of the dragons began shaking their scales and the scorpions pounded their claws. Over a dozen scorpions formed an ever-rotating circle along the edge of the mountaintop. The rest marched out in a seemingly endless stream, down into the heart of the canyon and then up the walls. The dragons hissed and backed away, not once losing the rhythm of the scale shaking.
All the while the lead scorpion and alpha dragon circled one another.
It was like watching two armies line up for combat. As if each and every one of them knew their place.
None of them noticed her perched on this scorpion though.
Good.
When the wolf and lynx fought, neither worried about the stoat.
She just had to get off this enormous death machine and out of this fight before she got herself killed or before one of the brothers launched in after her.
Ask the Ki Valo Nakar.
She froze.
It wasn't a voice. Not exactly.
An impression pushing hard within her mind, straining at some boundary.
Ask.
Her skin prickled with goosebumps. Something tugged at her consciousness. She was almost out of time. Waves of panic lashed through her, threatening to undo her.
Not now, she thought. Please not now.
No, for now there was only one thing. And she wasn't using the Ki Valo Nakar.
She'd find her own way out.
The scorpion clipped at the air with its claws and lashed its tail forward just enough to make its threat. It ground itself in, facing the mountain, its back to Dry Deep. The dragon too widened its stance and lifted its wings on the other side. Blood drained from its wounds, staining the stone.
She looked back and forth between them.
Yes!
That could actually work.
Even if it did take her over Dry Deep—possibly into it—she could figure out the next step from there. And maybe, with the whistle, someone could get to her in time after she was outside this massive shifting ring of predators.
Moving as swiftly as she could, she crawled toward the tail. The scorpion's outer shell had numerous broad ridges that made it easy to find holds.
Both the alpha and the leader continued to posture, claws striking the ground and slashing in the air, hissing and growling at intervals.
The scorpion swayed the front of its body while keeping its back legs set firmly in the stone. Its tail bobbed forward.
The dragon stretched out its neck. Its scales lifted straight up. Blood spurted from its side, and a black multi-branched burn covered the side of its face and neck and arced out along its side. The shades of wine-red were deep burgundy and black in multiple places, and some of the scales between the armor had been sheared off. But for all its wounds, it showed no indication of retreating or pulling back from the fight.
So long as this posturing continued, she had a chance.
As she reached the tail, she at once began to scale it. The slight appearance of movement felt far more dramatic from this angle, her stomach twisting and falling as she forced herself higher and higher.
Almost there.
The alpha snarled.
The scorpion snapped its claws together.
A little higher.
Her insides somersaulted as the tail bobbed again.
She gritted her teeth. Just a little higher.
Lunging forward, the dragon struck.
The scorpion blocked with its claws and lashed its stinger forward.
Amelia clamped her arms and legs around its tail and ducked her head.
The force threatened to tear her off as the stinger plunged right at the alpha's mouth.
Some of those teeth were as big as her.
The stinger struck against the scales and deflected, jarring her painfully. Then, just as fast, the scorpion's tail snapped back and she let go.
The force of the recoil sent her shooting high into the air. Over the scorpions. Over the dragons. All the way into the clouds and out over Dry Deep.
The scent of blood and scorpion faded just like the cacophony. The clouds wrapped around her, cold and surprisingly wet. They took her breath away, sending a sharp jolt through her heart.
The whistle firmly in hand, she sounded it as hard as she could. Breath after breath, blast after blast. The clouds with their spring water like flavor washed the bile taste from her mouth and cleared her head.
Fully in the cloud bank, she felt almost as if she were swimming. It blocked the night, the dragons, the terror, and even the knowledge that she was about to plummet thousands of feet.
The dull awareness that she should feel more fear rose within her. Yet it faded too as one thought possessed everything else. She'd fallen quite a lot recently. Not just this night. But somewhere else. It felt as if the world could open up and she might fall somewhere else entirely. Into some dark vortex. Something like the Tue-Rah but ominous.
Was there such a thing?
Had to be.
It called her.
Images played in her mind's eye, vague and out of focus. A hair's breadth away from understanding. People loomed and withdrew, little more than vague masses of emotion. The buzzing in her ears intensified as well as the humming in her bracelet.
Why couldn't she see?
The whistle! She'd stopped blowing the whistle.
Fear blazed through her like a wildfire once more.
The whistle had fallen from her lips and now dangled in front of her face. Seizing it, she thrust it once more between her lips and blew.
Don't flail, stay alert, don't flail, stay alert.
The canopy of trees over Dry Deep shot up toward her. And there was nothing to grab onto and nothing to—
Her eyes widened as she saw a dragon shape shooting toward her.
Don't be a real dragon!
But then she caught the aura and his presence and she almost laughed with relief. WroOth!
Her feet plunged into the canopy, the branches snapping and the leaves slapping against her legs. Swooping over her, WroOth seized her; she grabbed hold of his claws. The sharp edges of the branches tore along her feet and legs as he ripped her up.
He laughed as he flew back into the sky. "Were you planning on going through Dry Deep, little sister?"
Her heart thundered. It was as if all the fear had tried to make up for lost time. A thready laugh passed from her lips. "That could've been bad if you weren't any closer."
"Things have been bad enough for one night, don't you think?" He flew a few strokes farther, sliding closer to the canopy until her feet brushed the top of the waxy leaves. He then released her on a broad curving branch and dropped back into his state of rest.
With a loud gasp of relief, he collapsed against the branch. "I have to rest a little." He pulled the whistle from his doublet. "Don't move off the branch without testing the strength of the canopy. You could fall straight through." He gave four short blasts, two long, one short. "They'll know you're safe now."
She leaned forward, her head throbbing and that falling sensation continuing. "I might throw up now."
"I won't judge as long as it isn't on me."
"Is everyone all right?"
"Far from our best. Not
quite to our worst."
"Naatos—he looked like he was—"
He nodded. "He'll be fine. It could have killed him then or done worse, but it wanted him to suffer. Didn't go for the kill points. Intentionally crushed and slashed at the end to make sure he couldn't heal quickly or trigger the surge. Cruel beast. It's not often you see animals with that level of sadism. Troubling."
She rested her head on her knees for a minute, wishing the world would stop spinning and that falling sensation would cease. It was almost worse now that she was on something solid. Taking long, steady breaths, she focused on calming her agitated stomach. Dry heaving wasn't the way she wanted to end this night. The cuts on her legs and side weren't too bad at least.
After a few moments, she removed her satchel and pulled out the canteen and passed it to WroOth. "Have some."
He raised an eyebrow. "You carry water with your books?"
"When I'm riding with dragons and shifters, yes. Have to keep it next to my bullets though."
"How many more of those do you have?" He chuckled and took a long swig.
"Fifteen." She twitched her shoulder. "Might keep one just for sentimental reasons."
"If we were here twenty thousand years earlier, I'd get you a laser weapon of some sort. You wouldn't have to worry about bullets then. Though I might make you promise not to shoot me. Lasers sting more than copper, lead, and steel." He tilted his head. "Did you remember to drink?"
She ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing down the numerous strands that had come free in her wild flight and fall. "They're so loud. Are they going to fight all night?" From here, she could still see the scorpions circling and the dragons flying.
"Who knows?" WroOth pushed the canteen back into her hands. "And to be blunt, I don't particularly care. They can tear one another to pieces if they like. All the better for us. Ready then?"
She opened her mouth to speak when a massive roar shook the mountain. Eyes widening, she turned her gaze to the mountain. The scorpions had frozen in place, and even the dragons now treaded the air.
"Crespa," WroOth muttered. "Dear heart, we need to run."
79
A Bigger Monster
Rebuilding his body after the wounds the alpha had inflicted was challenging but not impossible. Naatos and his brothers were in a sorry state.
He relaxed when he heard the whistle blasts. Amelia had been found. She was safe.
"See?" QueQoa lifted both hands, palms up. "I told you she'd make it." The smile that broke over his face was one of pure happiness. "It's all going to be good."
"At least it won't be the end," AaQar murmured. He had finally released the supplies and the dragon form. It was every bit as bad as Naatos had feared it would be. Not that AaQar would accept much help for this issue. Nor was there much any of them could do. He now rested on his back, his hand over his chest. QueQoa coaxed him to drink more water.
The bavril trotted up to their group, emerging from the darkness as if it had been summoned. Somehow. It had a few cuts and scrapes along its sides and cheeks, but it appeared in relatively good humor. And it still had the supplies tied to his back.
"I let him go at the bottom of the canyon rather than let him fall," QueQoa explained. "Figured he had a better chance of making it out that way."
Proteus lowed and thrust his head against QueQoa's shoulder. QueQoa winced. "Had to pick the bad one, didn't you?"
The bavril responded with a slow shake of his head and then thrust it against QueQoa again. He finally relented and scratched him between the eyes. "He's learning some bad habits." Chuckling, he removed the packs from the bavril's back.
"She babies him," Naatos muttered. Not that he minded.
Deadly executioner, his foot. He found it hard to believe Amelia had even managed to put animals to sleep.
He managed to sit up and eat more of the dry roasted meat his brother had given him. Without the constant assaults and injuries, his body healed rapidly. Most of his organs had finished except that one kidney that never wanted to come back as fast as the other three.
In this case, the sadism had saved him. The shattered fragments of his ribs had come together in more or less the right shape. Even now they were melding back together, making his skin crawl and aching all the way through the marrow. It would be another hour or so before that stopped.
His vertebrae finished clicking back into place, solidifying once more. He hid the grimace, then cracked his neck. "Let's get the sledge assembled and loaded."
"Won't take long." QueQoa had already begun assembling the pieces. Naatos helped. He noted that QueQoa's shoulder had finished filling out, but the red veins remained. "How bad is it?"
"Not as bad as it was, worse than it should be. I'll be able to fly though if we need it. The bites were strange though. They don't want to heal all the way. Maybe in a few hours it'll be done."
He had noticed it as well. Some of his old injuries had resurfaced as well. A few of the scars had started to bleed as if they were fresh. Most were healed now. AaQar's toal suggested that it went even deeper. He glanced back at his brother. "AaQar, what of you?"
"The split hasn't fully healed yet. It doesn't want to." He laughed mirthlessly. "All those years of trying to end myself, and here was the secret. The bites or the mist, I don't know which is to blame. Shades of the ilzinium too I think." He placed his hand over his eyes, the lines on his face tight. "Of course, if I had to run, I could without spilling my guts. That's something, I suppose."
"No more running for tonight." QueQoa began loading the supplies back onto the sledge.
No more running, Naatos agreed silently. He placed the harness on the bavril and prepared to hitch it to the sledge.
They'd move to a more defensible location and determine their best solution. Knowing that the dragons could get through the rels if they wanted to changed everything. This place, a stone's throw away from the steep ravine that led into Dry Deep, offered little cover beyond the massive oak that stretched out enormous branches above them. They'd probably have to go back to the mountainside they'd sheltered at the night before. But what then?
They'd failed to make it through the canyon. Going around and over were both death sentences. Unless the scorpions butchered the dragons. Unlikely.
Making it through the canyon again, even less likely. If he didn't know better, he would have thought it a trap. But that made little sense.
The dragons they'd encountered at the stampede appeared by comparison relatively young and small to the alpha and the older dragons. Perhaps they hadn't recognized the scent or perhaps they had been focused on fulfilling their pack assignment of bringing in food. But still—
He turned his gaze up into the sky. The moon's brilliance hadn't dimmed though clouds obscured most of the stars. It was taking too long for WroOth and Amelia to get back. WroOth probably had to rest, but an unease rose within him nonetheless.
Over the past few weeks, there had been an increasing sense of needing to leave. Now it was here with more vivid awareness. They needed to go. There was a different scent on the wind. Subtle. Easy to miss. But there nonetheless.
AaQar sat up, his face pale and damp with sweat but furrowed. QueQoa stopped as well.
"You smell it too?" Naatos asked.
Both nodded. AaQar pulled himself to his feet as QueQoa finished adjusting the harness.
He pulled the whistle from inside his doublet, preparing to send a warning. WroOth could very easily have sacrificed his sense of smell to give himself more energy to get to Amelia in time. If that had happened, he might not catch the change.
Before he even sounded the first blast, an enormous roar tore through the night. It shook the very air. By the sounds of it, the creature they'd heard before after the stampede. Except now rage filled that voice.
For one long breath, everything went almost still. The scorpions stopped their circling. The dragons fixed in place, moving their wings only enough to remain in the air.
Then came anothe
r roar, belting out into the night. And every creature on that mountain fled.
* * *
Amelia stared up at the mountain, her eyes wide.
WroOth shifted back into the red fire dragon, significantly smaller than before, barely twelve feet. "Get on and hold tight."
"Can you fly right now?" She placed her hand on his scaled shoulder.
"Fast enough to get us out of here. Now stop worrying and get on."
She climbed up onto the back of his neck, her head still spinning and her stomach protesting. The adrenaline prickled through her like needles in her veins. Settling herself in with her feet braced against his shoulder spurs and her arms around his neck, she braced herself. "Ready."
WroOth leaped into the air and spread his wings. The downthrusts lacked their usual punch, but they sailed through the air toward the edge of the canopy.
Another roar shuddered through the air, even louder and angrier this time.
Chaos erupted on the mountain. The dragons flew straight out of the canyon or directly over Dry Deep. Dozens and dozens. The scorpions disappeared down the walls. Whatever was coming, everything appeared to be running now, desperate to escape.
Amelia twisted her head back to see. It was like bats exiting a cave after dusk. They thundered through the air, their terror palpable.
One of the dragons swept down in front of them. For a moment, its face seemed to change as a cloud of utter panic poured out from it. "Help me!" A woman's voice pierced Amelia's mind.
She froze gripping WroOth's neck tighter, staring at the dragon. Its eyes had changed, moving from gold to brown, the pupils becoming round and dilated. Human. The eyes were human! "What? WroOth, wait!"
"Wait!" WroOth exclaimed. "For what? To let you get eaten?"
"That dragon just said something. Didn't you hear it?"
"They're wild dragons, Amelia. They aren't sentient. They don't talk!"
Another roar shook the air, so loud it was painful. She cringed against WroOth's neck, her one ear flat enough against him to dull the sound while the other remained exposed.
Wilderness Untamed Page 86
