Dragon's Child (The Mindbender's Rise Book 4) Read online

  Her grooming could go on for hours. He turned away from her and considered all the things he planned to see, to hear, to eat, once he got out of this prison. If he ever got out.

  Deep in contemplative silence, Viper gobbled his supper of fried liver and toasted fungus before she decided to declare the game was on.

  The dragon shook herself and sprayed him with fine drops of icy water.

  His whole body shuddered with cold. “Hey! I know I need a bath, but it’s freezing in here. Won’t that damage your egg?”

  “Not likely.” But she checked the egg quickly. “No, everything is fine. You do need a bath, Adoriel child. I can trace you by your scent these days. It makes the game too easy.”

  Viper rolled his eyes, snatched up his tools, and immersed himself in carving. Immersion in work was as close to a bath as he got these days.

  Sunset brought a chill wind that made him shiver. Was it this cold outside, in the real world? It hadn’t been on the coast.

  The rain hadn’t let up in hours. He thought he’d heard thunder earlier, but that might have been his stomach growling. Breakfast was so long ago, even the stench of liver had vanished. He’d like to cook a bit of fungus, but the smell irritated the grouchy dragon unless she was eating, too. Eating it raw… He wasn’t quite that desperate yet.

  He huddled closer to his will-flame and created a torch to counteract the shadows the fire threw. Letting Leysamura realize that he’d conquered darksight would ruin his single, admittedly tiny, advantage.

  The dragon grumbled and curled more tightly around her egg. “Banish the light. I need to sleep.”

  Viper bit his lip and waved the torch out of existence. “I need to keep the fire or I’ll freeze to death. Unless I can sleep next to you?”

  “Absolutely not. I will not allow you anywhere near my egg.”

  He sighed and crept closer to the fire.

  “If you must have a flame, move into a tunnel.” She adjusted one wing over the egg. “Though I’d’ve thought you’d have mastered your body heat by now.”

  “The idea never occurred to me. I’d need more fuel even to attempt it.” He rubbed his sunken belly. “I haven’t been getting proper nourishment lately, I’ll have you know.”

  Leysamura snorted. “What you’re getting is sufficient. Tell me, what source of fuel have you been using to create the fires and torches? They come from the same source, Adoriel child, and maintaining your body heat at a higher or lower temperature takes no more energy. Try lowering your internal flame. It saves fuel, and you’ll sleep quite well. It’s rather like hibernation.”

  Thunderer, he was cold enough without lowering his temperature. “I’d rather not,” he mumbled. Louder, he said, “I’ll think about it.”

  The dragon frowned at him. “Don’t think about it, lazy child. Do it.”

  Most likely she’d nag at him until he made an attempt. Might as well try, no matter how awful it sounded.

  He hugged his chest and concentrated on becoming cooler. Cooler inside, deep inside.

  His heart slowed. His feet warmed. Just a little, but enough he wasn’t so miserable. But his whole body felt numb.

  Had he succeeded or failed? He couldn’t tell.

  The dragon nodded. “Good enough. Now get away from me.”

  Viper sighed and trudged deep inside the dark, icy tunnels. Deep enough the sandblasted dragon would never see his fire. He’d rather not freeze to death.

  But what was the point to living like this?

  The dragon saw him as less than a toy, not even worth considering his health, much less his comfort. She didn’t care if he lived. Or died.

  Darksight was enough for even the darkest tunnels, given the mood he was in. He couldn’t see anything, but he knew the route to his workshop cave by heart. He could probably find it in his sleep. The occasional glimpse of natural light was enough to keep him from falling into the shafts piercing the floor.

  He traipsed into his workroom and slouched down to the floor. It was so cold in here. Worse than out in the main cavern. He needed to create a will-fire.

  It wasn’t worth the hassle. Why not just lay down and freeze? He’d never get out of here. Lorel would never find him, even if she were still looking. Why bother to live?

  There must be some reason. It wouldn’t be down here, though.

  Would it?

  Still using his pathetic darksight, he glared around the cavern.

  Sparks of light reflected back at him.

  Thunderer! What was that?

  He groped across the stone ridges he used as shelves and touched the brightest light. Smooth, almost faceted stone met his fingers. A diamond? It felt like it.

  One with a sharp edge.

  His stinging fingers roamed over the long, wide shard he’d used as a knife, leaving streaks of blood behind. Holding it cautiously, he wiped blood off onto his jacket and brought the crystal close to his face.

  Tiny colored lights darted across the smooth surface. Blues and greens, amber and umber browns, they hurtled along frail, pale silver paths as if something was chasing them.

  The pathways reminded him of a spider web, but none of the motes appeared stuck. In fact they all seemed frantic.

  Panic was an emotion he’d rather avoid. He replaced the knife on the shelf.

  The next diamond over shed a greenish light. He reached for it and grasped a flat, roundish crystal that fit comfortably in his palm. It seemed to be two inches across and half an inch thick with no sharp edges. Why on Menajr had he chosen it as a tool? It wouldn’t cut anything.

  Cool green light glimmered at him. Two pinpoints of moonlit radiance.

  Not light. Eyes. Gorgeous jade-green eyes in the face of the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

  She looked directly at him, her expression amused yet serious. Intelligent. Focused. This was a girl who knew what she wanted, and had a plan to achieve her goals.

  Ice-blonde hair fell in layers around a pale pink face. A Nashidran girl, then, from the northernmost regions. No other race was so very pale.

  She appeared to be a few years older than he was. Mature and confident, the way his dear friend Faye was. Someone who understood the world.

  Someone he could spend hours staring at.

  Lorel would be furious if she caught him mooning over a Nashidran. Not a problem. His tall friend would never know. Not even if he was lucky enough to rejoin her. This beautiful girl would be his secret.

  After all, he hadn’t the slightest chance of ever meeting her.

  Shudders racked his body. His hands shook so hard he dropped the marvelous crystal. Blast, it was cold in here. He had to start a fire before he froze to death.

  Would he still be able to see the girl if he created will-fire? Only one way to find out.

  He picked up the diamond and laid it on his knee. Taking a deep breath, he willed fire into existence directly before him.

  Light flared, blinding him. Sandblast it, he’d forgotten to dismiss his darksight first. Seemed like he’d’ve learned not to do that by now. He rubbed his watering eyes and leaned closer to the flames.

  The diamond fell off his knee.

  He snatched it up and stared into it.

  Nothing.

  No girl, no green eyes, nothing but firelight reflected inside the crystal. What was he doing wrong? What was he doing differently?

  Only one thing. He cautiously invoked his darksight.

  The girl’s lovely face reappeared. She turned away slightly and smiled at something he couldn’t see. Such a beautiful smile.

  Viper sighed and cupped his hands around the diamond. As long as he could admire her, life in these horrible tunnels might be bearable. He’d hide this crystal here, inside the workshop where the dragon never bothered him, and remind himself every time he came down here that there was a real and wonderful world outside worth living for.

  Chapter 16.

  All them dark clouds made her nervous. The way Tsai was watching the sky while they har
nessed the team worried her, too.

  Lorel sighed. No time for breakfast this morning. She better hurry up and get the miswoven wagon loose, and quick. Trouble was, the thread-fraying fir trees still hugged the hubs tighter than the kid held onto a book.

  A stiff gust of wind blew the bugs buzzing around her ears away and yanked hair out of her braid. Tsai’s hair, Weaver fray her thread, stayed tight in its braid. Why couldn’t her own hair behave?

  The team’s manes flew up and swatted the horses’ faces. Poppy stamped and huffed, but the mare was harnessed up and ready to roll. She just wasn’t going nowhere without her teammate.

  Periwinkle, though, only wore his bridle, and he made it plain he didn’t like walking under the trees.

  Lorel wasn’t too happy herself. Branches falling on her head would ruin her day. “Come on, boyo. Let’s get to someplace a little safer.”

  The roan gelding shook his head until the bit jangled louder than the chimes in Weaver’s chapel, but he backed into place.

  “That’s my boy.” She slid his collar on and, with Tsai’s help, buckled the harness straps. “This ain’t a good place to be stuck.”

  “I’ll catch Sumach.” Tsai buckled one more strap, picked up her mare’s bridle, and hiked off into the meadow. “And get her saddled up so we can leave together.”

  The girl really oughta be off scouting, but with a storm that big moving in, Lorel guessed she was right in wanting to stay close.

  A fir cone bounced off Poppy’s back. The mare squealed, sounding pissed enough to eat the blood-woven squirrel herself.

  Lorel paused long enough to glare up into the swaying fir tree. “Toad, you was supposed to eat that pest!”

  “This one deems ratatoskr flesh repugnant.” Kyri-thing slid under the door and coiled up on the driver’s platform. “This one perceives a tempest is imminent.”

  She just glared at the slithering toad. “Would talking like a normal person really hurt you?”

  Tsai glanced back and giggled.

  “This one… senses an approaching storm.” Kyri-thing dipped its head. “This one believes the… wagon is cuneated… wedged in a sporadic… dry stream­bed.”

  “Yeah, it looks like a dry wash to me, too.” That was part of why it looked like a good path yesterday.

  The Loom-tangling squirrel tossed a cone on Periwinkle’s tailbone. The gelding stamped and cussed like a toothless old man.

  Poor horses shouldn’t have to put up with no crap from that fuzzy-tailed rat. She fastened the last buckle and rubbed Periwinkle’s neck. “We ain’t gonna be stuck here much longer, boyo.” She tied the reins together and looped them around a strut holding up the driver’s seat.

  Kyri-thing watched her like it’d never seen her harness the team before. Like she hadn’t done it every day since the kid disappeared. Stupid snake.

  “What’s your plan for getting the wagon loose?” She strode back to stand beside the trapped rear wheels. Did the toad even have enough magic to set them free? Most of the time it acted like it ain’t got no magic at all.

  The legless lizard stared up at the swaying treetops like it didn’t want to answer her.

  Lorel snorted and kicked the trapped hub. Useless toad. She better go find the kid’s hatchet. Maybe she could carve a hole in the fraying tree. And knock a starfish or two off the miswoven wagon while she as at it.

  Kyri-thing opened its maw and screeched out a creepy howl.

  Weaver’s chamberpot! Her innards turned upside down and danced a New Year’s tango with her heart.

  Screaming like warhorses, both roans reared and surged forward.

  Tsai squeaked, backed away, and fell flat on her butt in the grass. Sumach took off running like a whole pack of serdil were hunting her.

  The wagon jolted forward, creaking and groaning like it was bursting apart.

  The hubs burst free of the fraying firs. One blue starfish popped off.

  A fir cone landed on her head, jarring her out of shock. Coward crap. They couldn’t go off without her. Nobody was driving.

  She sprinted after the wagon.

  The fraying nags ran faster.

  Tsai jumped to her feet and darted after Sumach.

  Thunder rumbled louder than the rackety wagon.

  The horses galloped up the dry streambed. Weaver drowned in tears, if it started raining now, they’d all be washed away.

  She dashed forward and leapt, landing on the trunks on the back of the wagon. Sing to the Weaver, at least now the nags couldn’t outrun her. Who’d’ve guessed they could gallop so fast?

  The wagon bounced and lurched like it wanted to buck her off.

  Climbing up to the roof wasn’t no fun at all. Staying on the blood-woven roof while she crawled forward was even harder, but the stupid blue starfish gave her lots of handholds. And lots of spines in her hands and knees.

  Finally she reached the front and had a chance to look up.

  Weaver’s cold toes! They were headed right at a stand of trees.

  The thread-snipping slithering toad was just sitting on the driver’s platform, watching the scenery go by. It glanced up at her.

  “You ain’t no use at all.” She swung down to the driver’s seat and reached for the reins.

  Her fingers stung. Blood and starfish spines dotted her hands. What a bother.

  But she had a bigger problem. The fraying reins had fallen off the strut where she’d left them and were hung up on the wagon’s tongue, far below the driver’s platform.

  “Blood in the Weave. Can you reach them, toad?” She used her teeth to yank a few spines out of her palms.

  The legless lizard just blinked at her.

  “Stupid, useless snake.” She crouched down on the platform next to the wiggler and snatched at the reins. Missed by a couple of feet.

  “This one is not a snake.”

  “ ‘This one’ is a blood-woven pain in the butt.” She shoved hard at the overgrown wiggler’s coils, but it was too big to budge. “Move over, you’re in the way.”

  Kyri-thing reared back and hissed. “This one recognizes no rationale to endure the anchor’s insolence.”

  Whatever that meant. “You want the kid back or not?”

  The longwinded worm hissed again, but slithered up to the driver’s bench.

  Stupid, useless snake.

  Lorel dropped flat on the platform, wiggled her shoulders over the bouncing edge, and fumbled for the reins.

  Weaver’s chamberpot. Still a foot short.

  She latched her toes over the back of the platform and squirmed her whole chest off the front, dangling like a polishing rag with too much oil on it.

  Wood dug into her hipbones. Starfish spines jabbed deeper into her knees and shins.

  She was still a few inches short.

  A front wheel hit a rock. The whole wagon jounced into the air.

  Her whole body bounced up. Her butt thunked against the bottom of the driver’s seat.

  But the tangled reins bounced up, too.

  Lorel lunged, grabbed the reins, and pulled back hard.

  The team kept on running. Must’ve gotten the bits between their teeth. Loom-breaking nags.

  She squirmed back onto the platform, climbed back up to the driver’s seat beside the toad, and tried to guide them between the trees.

  The horses didn’t respond to the reins at all. They dug their hooves into the dirt and galloped, dragging the clattering wagon after them like it didn’t weigh nothing, for all it was full of Crayl steel and the kid’s books.

  She clung to the reins with one hand and the bench with the other. “Come on, nags. Slow down!”

  The forest rushed toward them. No, one big old tree raced right at them.

  The legless lizard hissed at the tree. Did it really think that would save them?

  She screeched at the horses, “You noodle-brained nags better stay on the same side of that tree!”

  The roans swerved – in different directions.

  Coward crap! Lo
rel squawked and prepared to jump.

  Kyri-thing hissed again.

  Periwinkle threw his weight at Poppy and knocked her to the side. Without breaking stride, they galloped on. Somehow, they missed the blood-woven tree.

  Heels flailing in the air, Lorel tumbled against Kyri-thing. The stupid snake hissed at her. She pushed against its warm coils and yanked at the useless reins.

  Wind howled up the mountainside. Rain crashed down in frantic sheets.

  The nags slowed to a canter.

  Something loomed out of the rain, just beyond the edge of the forest. Weaver’s cold toes, was that a dragon? No, big rocks. They’d do for shelter.

  The team ambled into to a walk.

  About time they got tired out.

  She wrapped the reins around Kyri-thing’s neck, jumped to the ground and scampered to the horses’ heads. She grabbed a bridle in each hand and led them away from the trees, toward the group of huge boulders.

  It wasn’t a cliff or a cave, where the kid always wanted to camp, but there was lots of grass, and none of the boulders leaned close together. No chance of getting the hubs stuck again, sing to the Weaver.

  She led the team around the rocks until both horses and most of the wagon were out of the blowing downpour.

  The roans shuddered and stomped. Poppy whuffed into Lorel’s wet hair while Periwinkle laid his head on her shoulder.

  She scratched them under their bridles. “That weren’t much fun at all. But you oughta be safe here.”

  She squirmed around until she faced the wagon. What was the toad doing outside? It never stuck around once things got risky. Or wet. “Hey, you all right?”

  “This one abhors hibernal precipitation.” Kyri-thing writhed free of the reins and slithered inside the wagon.

  The legless lizard didn’t even make sense when it was whining. Lorel chuckled and pushed tangled wet curls out of her face.

  She yanked a few more spines out of her palms, turned back to the horses, and unbuckled and removed both bridles before squelching to Poppy’s side to unfasten the harness.

  Thunder roared overhead. She looked up into the icy rain and grinned. The kid loved days like this. What’s he up to? Could he hear the thunder?

  Did he guess she was looking for him?