Light My Fire
Page 81
Once a cloth was handed over, the Kyvich said to Celyn, “All right. Go.”
He assumed she was trying to staunch the flow of blood, and he would be eternally grateful for that.
Rhian led the way, heading toward a crop of nearby caves. As they walked, they were silent until Rhian abruptly stopped right outside a cave entrance and snapped at Talwyn, “Must you be so bloody negative?”
“It was just a damn question. Stop barking at me!”
“No. That was not a question. You’re just being negative! And I don’t appreciate it.”
“So I can’t say anything? Is that it? I shouldn’t question anything? I should just let this unfold? Is that what you’re saying? Because I’m pretty sure I don’t like that! At all!”
“That is enough!” Celyn bellowed, beyond fed up with these two. “I can feel Elina’s lifeblood against my scales while you two petty bitches bicker like you’re still twelve years old. You’re not!”
Talwyn threw up her hands, seemingly done with it all while Rhian had the grace to at least appear contrite.
“I’m sorry, Celyn. Really. Let’s get her inside.”
Yet as the group went into the cave and moved through the caverns, their way lit by torches embedded in the walls, Celyn’s young cousins didn’t seem that sorry about anything, what with Talwyn putting her brother in a headlock and Rhian vowing never to speak to either of them again. Because she was sick of them. Sick, sick, sick of them!
But Celyn could hardly enjoy his cousins’ bickering, as he liked to do, with Elina possibly dying. He wanted to ask the Kyvich tending her a thousand questions, but he’d rather she focus on keeping Elina alive instead of trying to calm him down.
Still, as worried as Celyn was, he slowed to a stop when he heard a strange sound coming from deep in the cavern. A tap-scrape sound moving closer and closer down the passage.
They all stopped. Kachka immediately raised her bow. Talan and Magnus pulled axes out from under their robes. Talwyn and the other Kyvich pulled their swords. Celyn stepped back and readied his flame while lifting his wings to protect Elina and the third Kyvich on his back.
Only Rhian seemed unconcerned. She did stop, but she didn’t prepare herself for battle. She simply waited . . . with a smile.
After several long minutes, while Elina lay motionless against his back, a shadow moved through the passageway toward them. As it came near, Celyn could make out a dark grey cape, the hood pulled over the head, the rough wool material wrapped around the body. He could also see the snout peeking out. Could see the front left claw wrapped tight around the walking staff and the back right claw dragging slowly behind.
But just as the caped being moved in front of them all, a voice from behind Celyn barked, “Took your time bringing them here, didn’t ya?”
Celyn looked behind him to see a painfully old She-dragon standing there. This one also had a worn, rough wool cape draped around her body and held onto a walking staff with her left claw. Yet when Celyn looked back to where he’d seen the other dragon . . . well, that dragon was gone.
He also quickly noticed that Talan and Talwyn’s friends had instantly moved into combat formation without prompting or confusion. Good. Celyn liked that.
Yet while everyone was tense and ready to fight, Rhian walked past them and up to the old She-dragon.
“There was a bit of a battle, but we’re all here now.”
The old She-dragon looked right past Celyn—although he was three or four times bigger than her—and focused on Talan and Talwyn.
“You two . . . come here.”
The twins looked at each other but didn’t move.
“Now,” Rhian pushed.
With their weapons still drawn, the twins walked around Celyn until they stood in front of the She-dragon.
With the tip of her right talon, she first lifted Talan’s face by the chin. “You’re a pretty one, ain’t’ cha?”
“Yes,” Talan said. “I am.”
“Can you fight?”
“Well enough.”
“And raising the dead. That ain’t easy.”
“It’s easy enough for me.”
“That’s what worries me, boy. It worries me a lot.”
She moved to Talwyn, but when she tried to touch her with her talon, Celyn’s cousin batted it out of the way with her sword and snarled, “Keep your fucking claws off me.”
Rhian quickly stepped in front of her cousin. “Talwyn doesn’t like to be touched.”
“She’s like her mother.” The She-dragon leaned her neck down a bit so she could look Talwyn in the eyes. “But unlike her, knives thrown at my head will be returned in kind.”
“I look forward to the challenge,” Talwyn shot back, which got her a punch to the chest from Rhian.
While Talwyn pushed her cousin, the She-dragon finally focused on Celyn.
“You weren’t supposed to be here. Bit of a surprise. But I recognize who you come from. You have your mother’s eyes, but your father’s temperament. Must be more his people than ours.”
Celyn studied the old She-dragon, but it wasn’t easy. She was a bit hard to look at. There were a lot of scars from gouges that had cut deep, right through the scales on her face, neck, and snout. Plus one eye was crystal blue, while the other was a milky white and grey. Her hair was bright white, reaching down her body and pooling in a ridiculous pile at her clawed feet. There was nothing remotely familiar about her, yet she seemed to know who he was. Or, at the very least, who his parents were.
He assumed she was trying to staunch the flow of blood, and he would be eternally grateful for that.
Rhian led the way, heading toward a crop of nearby caves. As they walked, they were silent until Rhian abruptly stopped right outside a cave entrance and snapped at Talwyn, “Must you be so bloody negative?”
“It was just a damn question. Stop barking at me!”
“No. That was not a question. You’re just being negative! And I don’t appreciate it.”
“So I can’t say anything? Is that it? I shouldn’t question anything? I should just let this unfold? Is that what you’re saying? Because I’m pretty sure I don’t like that! At all!”
“That is enough!” Celyn bellowed, beyond fed up with these two. “I can feel Elina’s lifeblood against my scales while you two petty bitches bicker like you’re still twelve years old. You’re not!”
Talwyn threw up her hands, seemingly done with it all while Rhian had the grace to at least appear contrite.
“I’m sorry, Celyn. Really. Let’s get her inside.”
Yet as the group went into the cave and moved through the caverns, their way lit by torches embedded in the walls, Celyn’s young cousins didn’t seem that sorry about anything, what with Talwyn putting her brother in a headlock and Rhian vowing never to speak to either of them again. Because she was sick of them. Sick, sick, sick of them!
But Celyn could hardly enjoy his cousins’ bickering, as he liked to do, with Elina possibly dying. He wanted to ask the Kyvich tending her a thousand questions, but he’d rather she focus on keeping Elina alive instead of trying to calm him down.
Still, as worried as Celyn was, he slowed to a stop when he heard a strange sound coming from deep in the cavern. A tap-scrape sound moving closer and closer down the passage.
They all stopped. Kachka immediately raised her bow. Talan and Magnus pulled axes out from under their robes. Talwyn and the other Kyvich pulled their swords. Celyn stepped back and readied his flame while lifting his wings to protect Elina and the third Kyvich on his back.
Only Rhian seemed unconcerned. She did stop, but she didn’t prepare herself for battle. She simply waited . . . with a smile.
After several long minutes, while Elina lay motionless against his back, a shadow moved through the passageway toward them. As it came near, Celyn could make out a dark grey cape, the hood pulled over the head, the rough wool material wrapped around the body. He could also see the snout peeking out. Could see the front left claw wrapped tight around the walking staff and the back right claw dragging slowly behind.
But just as the caped being moved in front of them all, a voice from behind Celyn barked, “Took your time bringing them here, didn’t ya?”
Celyn looked behind him to see a painfully old She-dragon standing there. This one also had a worn, rough wool cape draped around her body and held onto a walking staff with her left claw. Yet when Celyn looked back to where he’d seen the other dragon . . . well, that dragon was gone.
He also quickly noticed that Talan and Talwyn’s friends had instantly moved into combat formation without prompting or confusion. Good. Celyn liked that.
Yet while everyone was tense and ready to fight, Rhian walked past them and up to the old She-dragon.
“There was a bit of a battle, but we’re all here now.”
The old She-dragon looked right past Celyn—although he was three or four times bigger than her—and focused on Talan and Talwyn.
“You two . . . come here.”
The twins looked at each other but didn’t move.
“Now,” Rhian pushed.
With their weapons still drawn, the twins walked around Celyn until they stood in front of the She-dragon.
With the tip of her right talon, she first lifted Talan’s face by the chin. “You’re a pretty one, ain’t’ cha?”
“Yes,” Talan said. “I am.”
“Can you fight?”
“Well enough.”
“And raising the dead. That ain’t easy.”
“It’s easy enough for me.”
“That’s what worries me, boy. It worries me a lot.”
She moved to Talwyn, but when she tried to touch her with her talon, Celyn’s cousin batted it out of the way with her sword and snarled, “Keep your fucking claws off me.”
Rhian quickly stepped in front of her cousin. “Talwyn doesn’t like to be touched.”
“She’s like her mother.” The She-dragon leaned her neck down a bit so she could look Talwyn in the eyes. “But unlike her, knives thrown at my head will be returned in kind.”
“I look forward to the challenge,” Talwyn shot back, which got her a punch to the chest from Rhian.
While Talwyn pushed her cousin, the She-dragon finally focused on Celyn.
“You weren’t supposed to be here. Bit of a surprise. But I recognize who you come from. You have your mother’s eyes, but your father’s temperament. Must be more his people than ours.”
Celyn studied the old She-dragon, but it wasn’t easy. She was a bit hard to look at. There were a lot of scars from gouges that had cut deep, right through the scales on her face, neck, and snout. Plus one eye was crystal blue, while the other was a milky white and grey. Her hair was bright white, reaching down her body and pooling in a ridiculous pile at her clawed feet. There was nothing remotely familiar about her, yet she seemed to know who he was. Or, at the very least, who his parents were.
