Page 53 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg
Without warning, Abraxis shifts mid-stride, the crunch of bone and sinew echoing unnervingly as his massive black dragon emerges. He snatches Mina up in his taloned grip, her hair whipping wildly as he launches into the air with a powerful beat of his wings. The gusts stir dust and debris, stinging my eyes.
Ziggy grabs my arm and Balor’s, his hand cold and solid like stone. In a dizzying instant, we phase to the nest site. The jarring shift leaves my stomach rolling as we land.
Leander stands ready, the egg carrier strapped securely to his chest. His scent—earthy, faintly sweet—grounds me. “Is it safe for you to have the eggs?” I ask, my voice sharp, though I try to mask my concern.
He glances at the carrier, then meets my gaze. “She won’t risk the eggs. Since I’m a prey species, we figured it’s safest with me. It’ll keep her instincts in check.”
I nod, the logic sound. “Good call.”
“Where are they?” Vox asks, his amber eyes scanning the horizon.
“Abraxis is carrying her in his talons,” Balor answers, his tone clipped.
The sky tears open with a series of feral roars, deep and reverberating. We turn to see Abraxis and Mina locked in a violent aerial clash. Their forms are black silhouettes against the twilight, scales glinting like molten metal in the dying light. “Fuck!” Vox snarls, taking off at a sprint. He dives off the cliff, shifting mid-leap into his sleek black dragon form, his wings unfurling with a thunderous crack.
He closes in on them, his talons gleaming like onyx as he grips Mina’s wings. She thrashes violently, her horns slashing through the air as she tries to impale him.
“Ziggy, can you get me on her?” Balor asks, his voice grim as we stand rooted in helpless horror.
“Yeah? Why?” Ziggy moves closer, his expression wary.
“I’m going to make her pass out so they can carry her here. Hopefully, she’ll shift back and it’ll be easier.” Balor’s words are steel-edged as Ziggy grabs his arm, and they vanish in an instant.
Cerce and I remain, the ground trembling beneath us as the battle grows nearer. Suddenly, Balor’s basilisk materializes mid-air, itsserpentine coils wrapping around Mina’s dragon’s neck. Her roars turn guttural, weaker, as her talons scrape at the constricting scales. Her movements slow, her thrashing reduced to sluggish jerks, and then she goes limp.
She doesn’t shift back immediately. When she does, Abraxis has her cradled against his scaled chest. The wind howls as they land, stirring the scent of charred earth and blood. Abraxis lowers Mina into my arms with surprising gentleness, her weight solid and unyielding.
I carry her into the pit off the main chamber, the air here damp and cool against my overheated skin. Cerce follows, bringing a bitter-smelling tonic that burns my nose. Together, we pour it into her mouth; the liquid glistening on her lips before she finally swallows. We lay her down on the soft furs, and I carefully remove the eggs from Leander’s carrier, arranging them close to her. The warmth of their shells thrums faintly against my palms.
“I’ll sit with her,” Cerce murmurs, her voice soothing as she settles beside Mina.
I nod, retreating to find the others. The metallic tang of blood hits me as I approach Abraxis, Vox, and Balor. Their skin bear scratches, some deeper than others, oozing crimson. Balor’s arm catches my attention—jagged talon marks streak across his flesh.
“How did she manage to hurt you?” I ask, disbelief coloring my tone.
“No clue,” Balor mutters, shaking his head. “She tore off a few scales, though.”
Abraxis’s eyes widen in shock, a flicker of unease crossing his usually composed face. “Is she sleeping?” Abraxis asks, rolling his shoulder with a grimace.
“Yeah. Your mom is with her. She’s all tucked in with both eggs on the furs, like last time.” My gaze drifts back to the chamber entrance, a shadowy void that seems to pulse with tension.
“I need to check on her,” Abraxis says, his voice low and rough. “I had to get aggressive to stop her. Mina’s talons … they’re sharper than I realized.” Without waiting for a reply, he strides toward the nest, disappearing into the tunnel’s darkness.
We follow Abraxis down into the nest. The air grows heavier with the scent of damp earth and aged stone as we descend. The tunnel ahead is cloaked in near darkness, the faint glow of torches from the distant chamber barely illuminating the jagged edges of the walls. Shadows stretch and twist as we move, the silence broken only by the muffled sounds of our boots on the uneven ground.
Abraxis kneels next to Mina, his movements are tender. Carefully, his fingers sink into the cascade of her long green and silver hair. The strands shimmer faintly in the dim light, like threads of spun glass. “I hate that we have to do this to her,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, trembling with a vulnerability I’ve never heard before. He eases himself behind her, his body curving protectively around hers as though he could shield her from what’s to come. One of his wings unfurls, the leathery surface brushing against her as it settles over her like a second skin. He presses a kiss to the back of her neck, the contact so gentle it’s as if he fears she might shatter.
In all the years I’ve known Abraxis, I’ve never seen him look lost. His face, usually so composed, now holds a shadow of despair. Deep down, we all know this might be the last time any of us get to hold her like this. The thought chills me, more than the damp air clinging to my skin. Klauth is an unknown factor, a storm on the horizon we aren’t ready to face.
I back slowly out of the chamber, the soft scrape of my boots echoing faintly. My retreat is halted as I nearly collide with Leander and Balor, their expressions as grim as the gloom surrounding us. Ziggy’s displacer beast form prowls the length of the tunnel and into the open space beyond. His sleek, otherworldly silhouette bending and doubling with his shifting projections. The faint scrape of his claws against stone sets my teeth on edge.
“Why is he shifted?” I ask, motioning to Ziggy as he prowls past again, his movements restless and predatory, tail flicking with agitation.
“He’s worried it’s not easily defended,” Leander replies, his voice tight, his gaze following Ziggy’s path. “Vox and Cerce said they’ll shift in the main chamber and watch over us tonight. Apparently, that isn’t enough.”
We both watch as Ziggy’s pacing carves a nearly visible path in the stone dust, his unease as palpable as the cool air. The tension in the tunnel presses down on us, a constant, inescapable reminder of the storm looming just out of sight.
Morning comes far too early, the faint glow of dawn barely reaching the chamber. The air is damp and cool, carrying the lingering smell of earth and faint traces of smoke from the torches. Abraxis and Leander are summoned back to the front to deal with a skirmish at the northern border. Their hurried footsteps echo as they disappear down the tunnel, leaving an uneasy stillness in their wake.
