(eng) P. S. Broaddus - Unseen Chronicles 01 by A Hero's Curse

Author:A Hero's Curse [R] [Curse, A Hero's]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

The knowledge that something big is on the move through the night has given me new energy and kept me moving. Until now. The terrors of the rock basilisk just a few days ago keep replaying in my mind, but eventually even that isn’t enough.

“Tig, I’m about to fall over. We have to try to hide.”

I feel Tig flick his tail against my leg. He’s frustrated again. A few minutes later he lets out a pleased hiss. “A hollow in the cliff wall, more of an overhang really.” It is relatively low and shallow, but by staying on one side of the hollow we manage to get out of most of the swirling sand. It’s probably good that it’s not a real cave. The floor is dusty with no recent scent; nothing lives here. Despite my earlier hurt toward Tig I appreciate his warmth as he curls on my lap. The temperature drops significantly after sunset. I doze off almost immediately. A growl carried on the wind wakes me. At first I think it’s Tig in my lap. Sometimes he growls in his sleep. But then the ground shakes. I figure this isn’t a good sign. Tig is three times his normal size, and his back is arched, making him about a foot taller than usual.

“Can you see something?” I hiss.

“Dragons,” says Tig.

“The Urodela didn’t say anything about dragons!” I yelp.

“I don’t think they knew,” Tig spits. “Not that it helps us. These probably moved in from the Smoking Mountains after the marshes disappeared. Wherever they came from, they’re here now.”

I smell the musty scent again, this time mixed with rotting meat. These are hunters.

I hear a high squeak from somewhere outside and Tig says, “I don’t believe this.”

“What?”

“The largest rodent you’ve ever seen is running from the dragons straight for us.” I hear the terrified squeaking getting louder. It sounds like it is squeaking “run,” over and over in Lingua Comma.

Then the thing scuttles under the overhang with us, the ground shaking tremors stomping up right behind it. “Two dragons,” hisses Tig.

“Sorry,” it cries, this time definitely in Lingua Comma, though accented in what I can only assume is rodent speak.

Tig recovers first. I hear him pounce. “Sorry is all you’ve got to say for yourself? I’m going to need more than that, or I’ll have one more good meal before the dragons get me.”

I don’t even try to analyze another talking animal. I just take it as fact and focus on the immediate danger. Two dragons are snorting at the overhang. I feel the huge vibrations through the ground, and dust falls on us from the ceiling.

A dragon roars into our hollow. The sound is momentarily deafening and leaves my ears ringing. I run through our inventory mentally looking for a dragon killing weapon. I come up empty. I could throw mushrooms and stale warm water at them. I hear Tig through a ringing daze.

“Move against the back wall. They can’t quite reach us in here. They’re

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