I run toward the carriage, screaming as it bursts into flames. I have to reach her, I have to save her. Fire so hot it burns blue around the edges erupts from the ground, but I know it comes from the sky. The teal and rose dragon beats its wings, spewing flames on the convoy.
A scream goes up, ringing in my ears, echoing. “Taryn!” she calls.
My mother scrabbles at the ground, rushing to her feet to run to me. “Taryn, run!” she screeches, her eyes going wide with terror.
My eyes brim with tears as I reach out for her, my fingers falling short as she bursts into flames before my very eyes.
“Mother!” I wail, watching in horror as her skin melts from her body, like candle wax falling away from the wick. Rage and loss swirl in my chest as her body collapses to the ground, her hand clinging to something.
The crown, glowing from the heat engulfing it, sparkles in the fading light.
“She had no need of it, I assure you,” the dragon sneers above me.
Chapter Eleven
I jolt awake, my heart racing. The smell of ash and death still fill my nose, as if I was actually there. My hands sweep across my chest, trying to keep my heart contained there as I glance around the large cavern.
“Dragon?” I call out, looking for the massive creature, but she’s nowhere to be found. I stretch my arms over my head, abandoning the panic of my fitful sleep as I appraise the cave in the daylight for the first time. Mountains of gold and silver shimmer everywhere I can see. I shake my head, wondering—not for the first time—what need a dragon has for gold. As I raise to my feet, a wind sweeps in from the cliff face and I walk to the ledge to peer over.
Mountains stretch out in every direction, slowly giving way to the valley that holds Vanir. I think it’s our valley, anyway. I sigh, shaking my head as I search the sky for the pink beast. Surely, she hasn’t abandoned me here in this mountain.
A dragon darts across the sky over a nearby mountain, but it’s not my captor. This one is the wrong color, a varying blend of green and blue from what I can tell. I purse my lips, scrambling back from the edge before I get eaten by yet another different beast and start to inspect the room properly. The hoard is impressive, that much I can say for sure.
Several weapons lay mixed with the precious contents of the cavern, and while some of them look to be valuable—swords with jeweled hilts and ornately carved bows—some of them are too plain to be considered treasure. I pad toward a pile of such weapons, examining the long swords and daggers where they lay abandoned. These must have belonged to men who attacked her cave, I reason as I bend to pick up a long dagger. It’s plain, the tapering blade straight with little in the way of decoration. I slip it into the waist of my borrowed trousers and look around, feeling defeated and rather small.
“Where are the bodies?” I wonder out loud. Did she eat them? Do dragons actually eat humans? Everyone says it, but I’m not sure if they do or not. It was easier to imagine them doing so before I found myself conversing with one. I could never eat anything that speaks . . . I wonder if they have such qualms. Of course, they’re big enough to accomplish the task, but I wonder if they want to.
My fingers wrap around the hilt of the dagger as I make my way toward the tunnel, stepping carefully into the darker area. It’s not completely black, even with the torches out, I realize as I pass the bathing room. A few advantageous cracks and holes in the ceiling allow the barest bit of light to filter through. “Who built this place?” I mutter quietly because I can’t reconcile the design of the bathing chamber and these crude lighting system with coincidence or nature.
There doesn’t seem to be any sign of the wolves from last night. No growls fill the tunnel and no click sound of claws on stone follow me through the dark. On my right, another room opens up and I glance inside, curious to what this one might hold—somehow, I must have missed it last night in the dark.
A large, circular bed rests in the center of the room, surrounded by lavish treasures stacked in the corners and sitting on parts of the wall that vaguely resemble shelves.
Rich colors coat everything. Deep reds and chocolate browns cover the bed, even the pillows sport their own flashy designs as I wander through the room, touching things as I browse the area.
It’s a lovely bedchamber. Fit for a king.
Or a queen, I realize as I look down at my borrowed clothes and suddenly it starts to make more sense. I’d wondered if the dragon had another prisoner, but I’m starting to think she has a companion of some kind, instead. Clearly, someone lives in this cave with the dragon, perhaps a sorceress of some kind. I can’t imagine any normal person wanting to spend so much time with a dragon, anyway. Maybe the dragon is like a sort of . . . pet . . . or familiar for the sorceress. It’s strange, but I suppose it could happen. If there’s magic involved, anything is possible.
I take another look around the room, my gaze sliding across personal belongings, clothing, and a tapestry hung over some sort of stone chair. My nose wrinkles as I slide my fingers down the design, a lion sitting atop a hill, roaring at a storm.
It’s powerful imagery.
But not something I’d expect a sorceress to own. Lions are notoriously used to represent those factions of people who would see a world without magic. In my studies, I learned it’s used widely as a representation of the ‘nobility of the human condition’. At least, that’s what the monks from the islands say. Their strange religion has never made sense to me.
I step away from the tapestry and back into the tunnel, looking left to toward the open cavern where the dragon brought me, then right to the ever-darkening tunnel as it winds through the mountain. I step hesitantly in the darker direction, peering into the shadows.
“There has to be an exit,” I sigh, walking slowly, dragging my hand across the left wall as I edge deeper into the darkness. I listen carefully for any sign of the wolves but hear nothing. I pass several more rooms filled with treasure and knickknacks, some lay empty, as if waiting to be filled. The cracks in the ceiling become fewer, the deeper I go, but a strange light dances across the floor ahead. I swish my mouth to the side, hurrying forward to inspect it and find another room.
This one is much more simple than the last bedroom I found. A torch on the wall throws light on the bed. It’s low to the ground and covered by a thin blanket, quite the opposite of the opulent chamber I found myself in at the beginning of my excursion. I cross to the torch on the wall, noticing it looks crooked. Maybe this one is—
When I pull on the wooden base, it comes free from its shackle on the wall. A grin stretches my face as I rush back out into the tunnel, hurrying deeper into the mountain in search of my escape.
I don’t know where the dragon went, but I can’t imagine she’ll be gone for long. Not when she has a prisoner here to look after.
The tunnel splits once and I veer right, following it until it splits again. I groan quietly to myself as I cast the torchlight first one direction and then other. “I’m going to get lost in here,” I sigh over the soft rumble of my stomach. I’m starving.
I haven’t eaten a bite since I was brought here. I’m not entirely sure there is food here. Perhaps I’ll ask the dragon when she gets back. With a sigh, I turn around walk into something soft. I jerk back, trying to catch my balance as I scream, brandishing the torch like a weapon.