The Dragon Who Loved Me (Dragon Kin #5)(25)
Author: G.A. Aiken

“Interesting. I can walk through fire with absolutely no problems.”

“Don’t brag. It annoys me.”

She relaxed her back against the tree, her shoulder pressed into Vigholf’s.

“Sure you want to get so close?” he asked.

“If I had a problem with it, I would have said something last night.”

His chuckle was low and soft, and Rhona added, “I can handle lightning.” She raised her knees, resting her chin on them, and wrapped her arms around her legs. She peered out over the field. “Besides, I like watching it. The way it skitters and flashes. You never know where it’s going to hit or how big or long it wil be. I find it kind of… fascinating. And pretty.”

“Do you find me fascinating and pretty too?”

“No.”

Vigholf’s laugh was louder this time.

“Oh,” Rhona said, wincing.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot about the horses. They’re probably long gone.”

“No, they’re at the foot of the hil over there, where the cave is. They’l probably stay in there until the lightning passes.” Rhona looked at him. “I bet it’s warmer in there than it is out here.”

“Probably.”

She stared at him some more until he blinked and said, “Oh! Do you want to go in there?”

“You mean rather than sitting under a tree during a lightning storm? That might make sense.” He shrugged, gave a smal , embarrassed smile. “I didn’t want to wake you up unless I had to.”

“A tree I’m under, destroyed by lightning would have definitely woken me up.”

“You use that tone with your siblings . . . and Éibhear.”

“It’s my ‘don’t be an idiot’ tone.” Rhona got to her feet, picked up her weapons and travel pack. “Come on, Northlander. Let’s see if you can beat what you’re made of.”

Vigholf didn’t beat what he’d been made of. In fact, he was struck at least three times, but thankful y it was mostly on his shoulders and arms. The worst was the head, neck, and ass. A Northland dragon couldn’t help but screech a little when hit in the ass with lightning. Although Vigholf always felt invigorated after getting hit with a few bolts of lightning, the effect often lasting for days.

They ran into the cave, now both of them drenched since the skies decided to open up once they were clear of that tree.

“That was exhilarating, eh?” Rhona asked him.

“No, it wasn’t. It was painful.”

“Don’t be weak, Vigholf.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, and laughing, Rhona stumbled away from him. “Don’t you dare!”

“I was hoping you could show me how to not be weak.”

“You unleash your lightning, and I’m unleashing my flame!”

Vigholf moved toward her, arms out and reaching for her. “I think I’m wil ing to risk it.”

“Wait, wait.” She held up her hand to stop him. “Where’re the horses?”

Vigholf took a quick look around. “They were right here a few minutes ago.”

“Piss and fire. They made a run for it.”

“I doubt they went back outside.” Vigholf sniffed the air. “That way,” he said, pointing at a passage and walking toward it.

“Wait, Vigholf, I’m not sure we should . . .”

But Vigholf was already moving, going deeper into the cave. Rhona was right behind him, but she seemed a little nervous. He had no idea why.

Now that he thought about it, he didn’t think he’d ever seen Rhona the Fearless nervous.

They located the horses about a half mile in. The animals seemed uncomfortable with the thunder exploding around the cave wal s, which probably explained why they ended up going farther in rather than running off. Rhona walked up to the pair and, with one hand for each, petted them on their necks.

“It’s al right. The storm wil pass. Sssssh.”

Gods, the female real y did have a way with horses. Something he found completely fascinating. Especial y since he did get the feeling that she had, on more than one occasion, eaten horseflesh. But the animals stil seemed to like her.

Then again, Vigholf liked her too.

“They’l be fine,” she said to him while smiling at the horses. “This bad storm just spooked them a—” The horses suddenly reared, and Vigholf grabbed Rhona around the waist, yanking her out of the way. Good thing too because the horses bolted, running back the way they’d come.

“What the hel s was that?” he asked her.

“I don’t know.” Rhona pul ed away from him. “Something scared them and it wasn’t the storm.” She circled around him. “I knew we shouldn’t have come in here. I knew . . .”

She was behind him when her words faded out and Vigholf turned around to find her staring off into another dark passageway. “Rhona?”

“Shit!” Rhona screamed before she shoved him toward the exit. “Run!”

She took off, heading the same direction the horses went, but it slithered out of the darkness, moving faster than anything Vigholf had ever seen, and cut her off.

Rhona fel back, fal ing on her ass. And it reared up on its tail, leather wings spreading out from its scaled body to block the exit. It hissed, the sound bouncing off the wal s.

Its head reared back and Vigholf rushed forward, grabbing Rhona by the neck of her chain-mail shirt and yanking her up. They ran seconds before a stream of green venom hit the ground where Rhona had been, sizzling as it burned into the rock.

Deciding he had to protect the female, Vigholf turned, lightning sparking off him as he began to shift.

“No!” Rhona grabbed his hand and yanked him after her. “Don’t shift.”

“Why the hel s not?”

“You’l never fit!” At first he didn’t know what she was talking about, but as they charged into narrow passageway after narrow passageway, the thing easily slithering behind them, he knew Rhona was right. These caverns and passageways had not been carved out for dragons to stand and fight in, but for them to die, along with anything else unlucky enough to find its way in here.

If Rhona had the time, she’d stop and kick herself. Because she should have been paying attention. If she had, she would have caught that distinct scent or seen the slither marks on the cave’s dirt floor or simply known that they weren’t alone. That like most of these low caves in the west, this wasn’t empty. It had a low-cave wyvern. A gods-damn wyvern! And the ones this far west were the worst of the lot.

Her father said the wyverns resented dragons because dragons could speak, could shift to human, and had arms and legs. Then again, dragons were higher beings. They weren’t snakes that had lived so long their bodies had lengthened enough to wrap themselves around castles several times and had sprouted wings.

But the venom . . . the venom was the worst part of it. No matter the breed of dragon, there were none who could stop the wyvern venom from melting the scales off their bodies. A most unpleasant experience. First it destroyed a dragon’s scales; then the wyvern wrapped itself around the now-defenseless dragon prey and squeezed until the life had been crushed from its bones.

An experience that Rhona had no intention of going through. Not if she could help it.

“We’l have to fight him,” she told Vigholf as they both suddenly took a tunnel to the right.

“As human?”

“We don’t have a choice.”

They took the next turn into another cavern and split up, Vigholf immediately dashing to the other side of the opening, his back against the cave wal . And Rhona went to the left, crouching behind a boulder.

She grabbed the spear her father gave her and held it in her hand. The tip appeared and it grew to be about three feet, but that was it, waiting until she cal ed on more.

She heard the wyvern slither into the cavern, but she could tel it instantly stopped before going farther in.

Careful y, she peeked around the boulder. The wyvern had reared up, nearly reaching the ceiling even though stil part of its body stretched outside the cavern. Its eyes searched the area, scales shimmering in the darkness, thankful y easy enough for Rhona to see. If she were truly human, she’d have been eaten by now after getting lost in the black.

Its gaze final y locked on the boulder Rhona stood behind, the sides of its mouth curling up at the corners.

Rhona had only a moment to think, Shit, and then she was diving back behind the boulder, crouching as low as possible. The venom hit the rock and she heard the sizzle, smel ed that burning scent of putrid death. Gods, she’d have to make this fast.

She spun around to the other side of the boulder, stepped out, and grabbed one of the throwing axes hanging from her belt. She lifted and threw it. The trajectory was spot-on, flipping end over end across the cavern until it hit the wyvern in the chest—and bounced off, completely ineffectual at this distance.

The wyvern hissed in annoyance and slithered after her. Rhona planted her feet and waited, watching the thing coming right for her.

But behind the wyvern, back by the entrance, Vigholf ran from his spot against the wal , his battle-ax arcing through the air.

Rhona prepared her body, waiting. The ax slammed into the wyvern’s tail, hacking the end off. The high-pitched roar the wyvern unleashed shook the cavern wal s, and it pul ed up to look, ready to strike Vigholf. That’s when Rhona moved forward, dashing to within feet of the thing. She lifted her spear and it grew from three feet to five feet to six feet, on and on until it was long enough to reach the wyvern’s neck. She rammed the spear forward and buried it between scales and into vulnerable flesh, not only ripping into an artery but blocking the thing’s ability to unleash any more venom. Just as her mum had taught her, years and years ago.

The wyvern tried to turn, its body thrashing wildly, blood spewing from its tail and its throat. Rhona held on, refusing to release the desperate animal even though her human body was weakening faster than she’d like.

“Pul him down!” Vigholf yel ed as he charged forward.

It wasn’t easy, but she did as he ordered, stepping back and yanking the beast down with her. When it was stil about ten feet from the ground, Vigholf climbed up on its back and up to where its head met its neck. He lifted his warhammer with both hands—the weapon her father made easily tripling in size—and swung. The heavy steel struck the side of the wyvern’s head, something snapping inside. But stil it fought. Stil it tried to kil or get away or both. So Rhona gripped her spear tighter and twisted it, shoving the tip deeper in. And Vigholf raised his hammer and brought it down again and again directly onto the wyvern’s head, smashing it until the thing final y slumped forward, the only thing keeping it up being Rhona’s spear.

Vigholf stood there a moment, his hammer pressed to the back of the thing’s neck, and his body leaning on it.

“This is not comfortable, Lightning.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He went down the beast’s neck until he could jump off without breaking something important. And as he walked toward Rhona, he heard it coming up from behind him. Hissing.