In The Lair of the Draca (Book 2)

In the Lair of the Draca (Book 2) Chapter 88: Remembering [End of Part 1]

From where Julian stood near the banks of the Hallowed River, he could spot the spire of Dragura's dilapidated fortress far to the south of the Ice Mountains. The entire scene and, indeed, the situation, was one Julian could never have crafted in his wildest imagination.

Here it was: his life. As starkly before him as his now-toothless, inflamed gums.

Julian was painfully aware of the dour mountain man's gaze on his backside. He'd been escorted out of the cavern without much difficulty, picking his way across rocks and hopping from stone to stone to be able to gain a vantage point of where he needed to be. But it was cumbersome with his 'precious cargo'. The Old Woman's egg was proving to be a cumbersome burden. For all the trouble it was causing him, Julian was almost ready to pitch it into the dark depths of the river. That would satisfy the mountain man (who'd threatened to kill him if he didn't jettison the egg) and free up his load so he could make a clean break. Julian figured he could make it to the castle grounds in an hour or so-- two hours, tops-- and there was hardly any time to spare.

Lu-Lu was being held somewhere in that castle. Dragura, whose reign had all but fallen to pieces, had still managed to snatch her right out of his embrace. If he didn't make it to her in enough time, she would almost certainly be murdered.

Julian wasn't about to let that happen.

"Hei!"

Julian turned warily, eyes scanning the mountain slopes until the mouth of the cavern became apparent. Observing him from its entrance was the old mountain fellow, legs braced apart while aiming a smart bow with an arrow.

"Don't think I've forgotten this, boy!" the old man shouted. "Give Old Woman what's rightfully hers, or you'll be buried where the light of the Twin Moons will never shine!"

Julian hesitated. Moments ago he'd been as dry as a bone in the searing heat. Now, sweat poured from his hairline in rivulets. Its saltiness mixed with tears of frustration and adrenaline.

I can't let this thing go!

But if I don't, that crazy hillybilly is going to flat-out kill me. He'll conceal my remains in a place where even the worms can't get to them. How am I supposed to rescue Lu-Lu if I'm dead? What good am I to her as a corpse? If--

The crystalline ping of an arrow striking granite whipped Julian to immediate attention.

Dear God, this is real.

The whistle of another arrow zipped past Julian on his left, burying itself in the marsh on the riverbank. That one had almost taken his ear off.

Julian didn't need to look back up to know that his old nemesis was preparing another missile. His aim was almost too good; the first two shots had been warnings. The next
would spear his heart.

Through the strained veil of instinct, Julian scanned his surroundings. The riverbank was a mere fifteen feet away, but there were no hiding places to speak of. The rest of the mountain wall on his side of the river was smooth in its entirety. It held no crevices that could conceal him. Even the ground itself was no help. In fact, there was hardly any ground at all, which would make running extremely difficult. Beneath his boots were overlapping granite slabs that reminded him of slippery cobblestone. There were also gaps between some of these slabs, which held either boggy moss or pockets of brackish water and peat. Those water pockets were the most dangerous of all. He'd been able to have a look at some of them earlier on during the canoe trip through the mountains. Many contained pinky finger-nail-sized cuttle-fish. These cuttle-fish scintillated in all colors of the spectrum: shiny golds, inviting cobalt, and rosy-red coral. He'd even seen pearl-like egg sacs, from which the babies emerged with transparent shells.