Page 17 of Burning Heir

Myla huffed, a sign that she was okay. My boots weighed me down like two boulders tied to my soles. I swam toward the mountain, below it a jagged entrance, sucking the water in and spitting it back out.

“I always thought I’d ride a dragon. What are griffins like?”

Gripping the cave walls, a wave slammed me forward and up. “They’ll peck your eyes out if you touch a feather wrong,” I said, hoisting myself atop the frosted algae of slime and into the tight cave.

“I see why we bond with eggs,” she said.

Rock pressed against my ribs, forcing my breath into shallow inhales. We crawled on our hands and knees, our noses skimming the water as it choked and dripped into our lungs. The passage seemed to grow tighter with every movement.

“I can hardly breathe,” I gasped, ribs flattened against the crushing rock. Even she was barely visible once I took a narrow turn and eased my limbs to drag on.

Salt burned my stinging hand, where a rock sliced my thumb on another squirm through. This seemed to be the last moment where only my mind could scream.

“Keep going. I—I see the light,” she cried. “Keep going, we’ll make it.”

I would die here.

I believed the cave would squeeze me until I was pulp. I willed the desire to lay here, to suffice my body to melt to the rock as my elbow jammed against my knee on that final drag.

Light cracked, and Myla eased her feet into a groan beside me as the stone widened into a hollow core. We had no time to admire the jutted crystals prodding through the rock. In another moment, I might have called it beautiful.

Through the darkness, her finger pointed toward a ledge. “I see them,” Myla yelled. “There’s four eggs.”

Grey-wired fur protruded and twined to create a makeshift nest. I wondered what beast’s fur had been plucked and if a creature worse than Bridger waited beyond the cave.

“Grab one, and let’s get out of here,” I said as the water sloshed near our boots, rising higher every second.

Dimmed sun rays broke through the cavern walls, stretching on for miles. I had no intention of finding the end.

Myla reached, skimming the golden and blue eggs with her nails. “I can’t reach them.”

I leaned against a rock in screaming pain. Fighting every desire to faint, to leave. To give up. “Can you—climb up?”

Myla raised her boot, sliding down the ledge with a thud. “It’s too slippery.” Her voice echoed back. “Get on my shoulders, and you can grab them.”

“Fine,” I said as Myla lowered her neck.

I climbed her shoulders, wobbling as I skimmed the jutted rock ledge. Myla tipped back, and I clung, using my last bit of energy. I reached toward the eggs, sliding my hand over the gritted surface. The blue one was the size of a griffin egg, and the golden one, I couldn’t tell from this far away what it was. It was smaller than the rest, with a glossy film covering the slicked shell.

A low hiss sounded close to my fingers. Then, two slivered red eyes blinked with scales.

I screamed, “Snake, snake… snake!” Myla stumbled back, nearly taking me down with her. It snapped forward, curling its tail around the eggs in a protective stance.

“Grab the eggs before the snake eats my enigma!”

“Myla, I don’t think I can.” Another snap of its fangs, this time inches from my hand.

“Myla, can you try to freeze the snake from where you’re standing?”

“I can try—I can’t see past my fingertips. You’ll have to tell me where to aim.”

Lifting four shaking fingers, her breath fell into a different rhythm as a swirl of snow pushed from each tip.

It wasn’t strong enough. She needed to get closer.

“Higher, it’s on the left!” I yelled as another hiss and snap came from the beast. Iced flurries shot forward, twirling faster around her index finger. I grabbed her elbow as frost coated the air, forming a labyrinth of cracked ice along the walls.

The snake’s tail whipped the blue egg forward. Myla caught it before it smashed into the ground. “I got it!” she cried and began to lower.

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