Page 19 of Storm of Blood and Shadow

“It shall be done.” Varex ducks his head in assent. “Anything else?”

I walk forward and peer into the cavern. It’s empty except for a few scattered personal belongings—whatever the women happened to have with them when they were taken.

“Beds,” I tell Varex. “We need beds. Grass pallets will do. We’ll need the supplies to make them—plenty of fresh, long grass, and some vines to tie the grasses together.”

I step closer, and he instinctively moves his face nearer to mine as I lower my voice. “Get the male dragons out of this enclosure. Give them jobs to do. If the dragons are helping us, the women will be less scared of them. Tell your clan that when the captives are fed, clean, and warm, they’ll feel more like chatting.”

Varex slides his muzzle along my cheek, his jaws right next to my ear. His voice is a low, soothing rumble, almost a purr. “You are as wise as you are beautiful.”

Heart fluttering, I shove him away. “Go.”

He chuckles, a sparkle in his amber eyes, then bounds over to the other dragons and begins to give them orders.

I walk forward, brace both my hands on my hips, and address the women. “So we’ve been stolen by dragons. It’s fucking miserable, yes?”

They nod and murmur anxiously in response.

“Lucky for you, the dragon who captured me is one of the leaders of the clan, and he’s going to help us. But I need your help too. We have to prepare some food, clean ourselves up, and make this place livable.”

A sharp voice rises from the group. “Are you saying we should resign ourselves to this fate?”

“Far from it.” I glance over my shoulder at the dragons. A few of them are already taking off, flying over the wall in search of the things I requested.

“Before we can plan anything else, we need baths, food, and a comfortable place to sleep tonight,” I announce. “The dragonsare fetching supplies. Some of us will make the fires, others will cook, and others will make grass pallets for beds. But first—please bring forward any extra resources you may have brought with you. We’ll pool them together and ration them.”

I step into the cave and empty my own bag on the floor, which inspires other women to bring forward any items they don’t immediately need for themselves. None of them question my arrival or the way I’ve taken charge. They needed someone to step up and set them to work. People feel far less powerless and afraid when they’re doing something useful.

Another advantage of good, hard work is the quick passage of time. The day races by as we work together to transform the cavern into a temporary refuge.

During our bathing hours, two of us stand at the cave entrance to warn off any dragons. One of the women has a bar of soap, and we each use a little of it as we bathe. Another does haircuts and shaves for a living, so we make use of the scissors and the straight razor she carried with her in a leather pouch. Being clean immediately brightens everyone’s mood, and we move on to the tasks of making two campfires, preparing the food we have, and crafting pallets for sleeping.

Two of the women volunteer to fly with a couple of dragons to the southern meadows. The dragons provide a clay pot, a scavenged jar, and a dented bucket to hold the milk.

They also bring us a fat doe, which we have to butcher ourselves. I have no experience with such things, having always purchased meat at a market, but one of the women grew up on a farm and is quite familiar with the process, so we leave the skinning, bleeding, and gutting to her. She seems to prefer that work to the tedious task of making pallets.

All too soon, the shadows of the mountains grow long, throwing our protective enclosure into gloom. But the campfires are bright, fed from an immense pile of sticks and logs thedragons brought us. It was almost charming how keen they were to help us once we told them what we needed. They are gigantic and imposing, yet many of them have a dog-like energy and enthusiasm when it comes to serving us.

Varex returns at sunset, bringing with him a battered cooking pot and a cast-iron pan. I have no idea where he found them, but I’m delighted. I hand them to the three women who have volunteered to make tonight’s meal, which will be well-seasoned thanks to the partly crushed herbs from my bag.

“The pot and pan will make cooking the venison so much easier,” I tell Varex. “Thank you.”

Weariness hangs upon him, and his wings drag limply in the dirt, but at my thanks, he brightens. “I am pleased you like them. Do you need anything else?”

So many things. A few of the women are in their cycle and require cloths for the bleeding. We need pillows, blankets, towels, clean clothes, shoes, and soap. But Varex appears exhausted, so I don’t mention any of it. I need him fed and refreshed so he can fly me back to the mainland tomorrow—providing I can convince him to do it.

Much as I’d like to help the other women escape, I’m not responsible for them. My priority is protecting and providing for my family. If I get the chance to escape alone, I’ll take it, without a second’s hesitation.

“Have you eaten?” I ask Varex.

He looks surprised, and his eyes soften. “No.”

“You should go find prey. Maybe one of the other dragons has something left over to share with you, if you don’t have the energy to hunt.”

“You are being kind to me again,” he says, wry humor in his tone. “Which means I can expect your anger to resurface at any moment. Permit me a few seconds to bask in the glow of yourfavor before it dissipates.” He noses nearer to me, his hot breath warming my cheek.

I make a frustrated sound and shove his muzzle away from my face.

“Ah, there it goes,” he says. “No matter, I like you just as well when you’re cruel.” And he swipes my cheek with the tip of his tongue before leaping away.

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