Young Writers Society

The smoke was tangible in the dark, mixed with a tangy smell of roasted flesh that left Carris with no course of action to put one hand to her nose or else choke on the stench. The fire had subsided, and there nothing but the crackling of dying flames in the pitch black. Carris had heard but not seen the attack. She hoped that it had been the Sadorians who had met such a terrible demise, but the death screams were such a violent and alien sound that it could have come from any being and would be nearly indistinguishable from the next.

She now pressed toward the center of the cave, arm outstretched, feet shuffling in an attempt to bump, rather than collide full force, into any rocks -or corpses- that she might stumble upon. From what little moonlight filtered from the above gap in the cave roof she could see a light about thirty yards ahead. It could be a smoldering corpse, or it could be a torch.

Carris glanced behind her, then up above. That dragon could be anywhere. Perhaps it had left the cave system, or perhaps it was feeding. Carris couldn’t bring herself to believe that it was gone. That would only be too fortunate, and fortune was something Carris had lived in short supply of her entire life.

It’s out there somewhere. There was a crackle to the left of Carris a few feet ahead. She groped toward it until she saw small embers emitting from a blackened heap. Carris plugged her nose as she leaned down with the other. She could feel the heat rising from the smoldering corpse. There was a sticky presence in the air. Carris could feel the sweat roll down her temple despite her frosty breath. She stuck out a tentative hand, running her hand over the corpse. She was hoping to find a dagger, ax, something to put in her hands. Her hand hit something hard, like a rock, in what was left of the Sadorian’s jacket pocket. She grasped onto something heavy and blazing hot. She yelped as she wrested her hand away, letting the object fall to the ground with a soft thunk.

Carris shook the heat away from her hand, wincing. There was a definite burn across her fingertips, she didn’t need to see it to feel the tenderness and heat. She hesitated for a moment, realizing that she had made a sound. There was nothing. No scraping on the walls, no ominous growls. Carris felt around the ground, now soggy from the melted snow mix with dirt and gravel, until her hand hit a small patch of snow. She led her hand back to the scorching object and nudged it to the snow with her boot. With her uninjured hand, she covered it with snow, keeping the bile that rose in her throat as a fresh wave of stench hit her nose. It was charred and yet almost sweet.

Carris snatched up the object, still warm, but no longer unbearably hot, and shoved it in her pocket. She felt around the corpse again. If there was anything else metal it would be just as hot.

Her hands slid over what felt like a thick branch, then her hail struck metal.

A dagger. She wrenched the dagger’s wooden handle from where it had been jammed underneath the corpse. It disintegrated into a pile of ashes.

“Oh, come on!” She whispered in an angry tone, sighing.

There was a clack. Carris froze. Clack. Her heart dropped. Clack.

It was back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jacoby shoved Devlin for the fifth time, sending him stumbling forward, just barely catching himself against the stone wall. He clutched the sword in his hands, teeth gritted.

“I swear, you so much as touch me aga-“

Jacoby kicked him square in the back. This time there was no catching himself and he crashed to the ground, the sword clattering off the wall. “You were saying?”

Devlin pushed himself up, wiping the mud off his face, snatching up the sword. “I may die, but I’ll take you with me.”

Jacoby nodded. “I believe you, but it’s too late.” He pointed past Devlin. “Destiny waits,” he said.

They had reached the cave entrance, a black, ominous hole into a inky expanse. Jacoby accepted a torch from one the Sadorians and handed it to Devlin.

“To give you a fighting chance,” he said, trying his best to keep his wheezy laugh back, but he couldn’t help it and out rolled a guffaw. Then his face hardened, eyes glaring at Devlin. “Move it.”

Devlin bit his tongue, just keeping down the urge to strangle Jacoby right then and there.

Bide your time. Survive first. Then revenge.

He entered the new cavern, eyes adjusting to the improved lighting that the torch provided. The cavern was much bigger than where they had come from. There was even some moonlight poking its cautious head in. Eridan entered beside him but said nothing. Devlin eyed the black blade hanging on his side.

That would turn the tide.

Jacoby flanked his left. “Get moving.”

Devlin gripped his sword, wiping his nose and clearing his throat. “I said I would take you with me,” he said.

Jacoby looked at him with his head cocked sideways like an inquisitive pup. Devlin’s blade was already coming forward. A scream flashed around the cavern, causing all to turn, even distracting Devlin enough that his wing stuttered as he jerked his head around toward the scream. The blade sliced across Jacoby’s right arm, leaving it dangling in a dangling, bloody, mess.

Devlin jumped away, avoiding a vicious swing from the Sadorian behind. He turned to face the oncomer, but Eridan held up his hand.

“Stop!” He bellowed, and the Sadorian complied in an instant. “He has nowhere to go. And that dragon is still hunting. Let this brave soldier choose which he thinks he can take on,” he said drawing his blade. “Go on, choose your death. I can guarantee you that a dragon has nowhere near the amount of imagination that I’ll have with your worthless self.”

There was another scream, this time coming closer. There was now a heavy set of footsteps and a snarl. Devlin turned, peering into the faint light. Then he saw it. A girl sprinting straight towards him, with a blasted dragon behind her, head reeling back, a warm glow flowing up its neck.

“Move!” Devlin yelled, diving to the left into a pile of snow that shot up his nostrils. He coughed and choked on the snow as he felt a wave of heat swirl across his heels. He was up in an instant, clasping his head as pain hammered through it again. He looked through blurry vision to see the girl headed his direction still.

Carris?

She rushed past him. Devlin glanced back at the dragon which had slammed into the Sadorians as it tried to change directions quickly. They were sent bowling into the wall. Eridan had avoided the miscue and had his sword drawn. Everything in Devlin told him to run, but he stood captivated. Eridan shouted something and an invisible force sent the dragon reeling back on its scaly back. It screeched and rolled back on its two clawed talons. The fire rose in its chest and it spat out like water in a spigot. Eridan was rushing forward though and caught the fire? Devlin didn’t know how to word it. The fire simply stopped in its trajectory and swirled like a wave in the sky, then swirled into a veil of smoke.

A hand gripped Devlin’s shirt and forced him to turn.

“We have to go, now.”

“Carris?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, the Queen of Xiera.”

Devlin blinked twice. “Sorry.” He shook his head, focusing himself. “Where do we go?”

Carris nodded in the opposite direction. “That way. Lave the torch. Dragon’s blind but it can hear you all the way across the cave.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because, we had a nice cup of tea and pastries, moron,” she growled.

Devlin huffed. “Okay, got it. Let’s go. Lead the way.”

Carris took off in the general direction. Was that a smile on her lips?