Page 100 of The Death King
That was something I liked about her, that she never complained. Whether it was pride or her fear of looking weak, it didn’t matter to me. She had a spine that was more rigid than most men.
“I found these for you.” I handed her a bowl of berries.
She stared at their vibrant color for several seconds as she absorbed the sight. “Wow.” She squeezed one between her fingers to test its plumpness. “They look delicious.” She handed the bowl back to me. “There’s plenty for both of us.”
“I already had my portion.” That was a lie. I knew she wasn’t a fan of meat every morning and night.
She took the bowl back and ate each one, choosing to eat the berries and ignore the meat. “What’s the plan?” Our passionate night together seemed to be ignored, but I suspected it was as vivid in her mind as it was in mine.
“We’ll search with Khazmuda.”
“On foot?”
“On his back. The marshes are too dangerous.”
She continued her breakfast in silence.
I stared at the fire as I waited for her to finish, my arms on my knees, thinking about the moment when we would come face-to-face with that ferocious dragon. I’d have been more concerned about the meeting if I didn’t have Khazmuda at my side.
She finished breakfast, and we put out the campfire and packed our belongings to depart. We climbed upon Khazmuda’s flank, and she hooked her arms around my waist to hold on as we launched into the sky.
She gripped me tightly every time we did this, holding on for dear life like she might slip off.
My arm moved over hers and squeezed, showing her I would never let her fall.
We soared just above the tree line, and Khazmuda glided toward the mountain, the gray, rocky outcropping that divided this land from the west. The shroud of mist was so thick, it was hard to see anything more than a few feet ahead of us.
Be careful. We can’t crash into the mountain.
I can see better than you.
I hope that’s true.
We glided for a while, Khazmuda turning left at some point, like we were close to the mountain. His mind is the most distinguishable here. He dipped farther, and then the ground at the mountain wall became visible. The marshes below looked like dirt. They were deceptive, a trick of the eye that would kill the most experienced hunter if they weren’t careful. But there was no cave. Khazmuda continued to soar past the mountain, and once Inferno’s mind dwindled, he circled back. An unsolvable riddle.
My eyes combed the mountainside, searching for a clue to the dragon’s whereabouts. He was definitely inside the mountain—but where?
“What if the entrance to the cave is from above?” Calista asked. “He can fly…”
My eyes lifted to the top of the mountain and the jagged peaks. She’s right.
Khazmuda flapped his wings harder and rose to the top of the peaks before he soared over the top, gliding over the surface in search of an entrance to the inside of the mountain.
“There!” Calista pointed to the west. “I see a shadow.”
Khazmuda changed direction and headed to the location, and the closer we approached, the clearer the shadow became. The shadow turned into a hole, an opening in the rock that led to something far below.
Khazmuda landed on the edge of the crevasse and dipped his head inside. He’s here. I can feel it.
I looked at Calista over my shoulder. “Ready?”
“To face a dragon who doesn’t want visitors? I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for that.”
Khazmuda tilted his body forward then fell into the hole, his wings open to catch the air, and free fall was slowed to a gentle glide. The cave was dark, shadow-obscured, and the details of the walls disappeared the farther we went.
It runs deep.
A minute passed, and then light from the bottom emerged, a glow from flames that cast shadows along the walls.