Page 202 of Golden Queen
I raised a brow and frowned at him.
He laughed and admitted, "Most would not dare harm you in any case, but wild dragons are not always so predictable. When you make your oath to Darkwatch, though, that will change. They will know you as lady, and even the wild ones would give their lives to protect you."
The idea surprised me—to realize that the oath was more than just words—that it had some magical connection to this great land and the beasts who called it home.
The cave was rather mundane; shadowy, with dark gray stone walls. It was nothing like the colorful city cavern. But it was still massive.
Steps and paths had been cut into the stones leading down into the darkness. Lanterns hung from metal poles jutting from the rock. They cast faint yellow light to guide our steps as we descended.
"This is one of many dragon caves throughout the mountains," Io told me. “There are many times more dragons in Darkwatch than people.”
We reached a level area where the rock was smooth. I could see the path sloping away upward toward a rounded, elevated area where it was even smoother. The faint light from the cave opening behind us cast a diffuse glow over the raised area so that it looked like it had been featured—placed in focus.
"What is that?" I asked.
"That is the king's throne," Io replied. I heard a loud scrape and the clatter of many small rocks raining down the incline behind us.
I let out a startled laugh as Veles hauled himself down through the cave and slid up onto the rocky prominence. He lowered his head, tucked in his wings, and curled his tail around himself as though settling onto his throne for a nice long nap.
When we passed him perched there, I asked, "So where are the other dragons?"
In answer, Io raised his hand and lazily flicked a ball of orange fire out into the shadowed cave. It flared brightly as it reached its zenith. The brief glimpse of what lurked in the shadows had me backing away.
Dragons were everywhere, curled up together in knots of what looked like ten or twenty all pressed together. Every corner of the cave—much larger than I had even realized, was covered with groups of huddled dragons.
They were all shapes, all colors, all sizes—all mannerof terrifying teeth and scales and claws and wings accounted for in the darkness.
I thought I saw a flash of shiny white scales before Io’s fire winked out and the cave returned to shadow. I wondered if Eroa was curled up in one of those groups.
I only stopped backing away when I glimpsed the shadows behind me and realized there were, no doubt, just as many dragons behind me as before.
I was apparently endlessly amusing to the dragon mage at my side since he was laughing outright at my discomfort. I gave him a little shove and strode ahead confidently—to prove I was not truly afraid of what lay in the darkness.
I had to draw myself up short, though, as the chamber ended in a steep drop above a cavern so large it made even the Meroway cave look small by comparison.
At the bottom was a lake of bright molten orange that cast a diffuse light through the entire seemingly endless abyss.
Smoke and steam rose from the lake, filling the air with the acrid scent of burning and sulfur. I could see areas of midnight black interspersed with glowing orange cracks on the surface where the lava had partially cooled.
There were more dragons visible in the cavern. Many of them were stretched out just at the edges of the lava lake, and I glimpsed a few of them flying through the smoky air.
Io stepped beside me as I looked up. The top of the cavern was lost in the gloom, but I could see the ends of pale white roots hanging from the ceiling.
“Is that…” My voice trailed off as my eyes adjusted to the gloom enough to make out the massive network of wispy black webs suspended between tall dark-stone pillars.
“Spiderwebs,” he supplied.
The fear that I’d felt when I saw the dragons did not even come close to matching the terror that ran through me to see such large webs, envisioning the size of the spiders who wove them.
I tipped my head back, certain one of the horse-sized spiders might drop from the inky black any moment and drag me away into their web.
Io laughed again, and I gave him a dark look.
“The nesericum are a peaceful people,” he said. “And shy. You’d be lucky to see one if you came in here every day for a year.”
“People?” I said, my brows shooting up.
“Well, not precisely,” he replied. “They are sentient enough to maintain a trade with us, though. We bring them livestock for their meals. They give us their silk in return.”
