In The Lair of the Draca (Book 2)

In the Lair of the Draca (Book 2) Chapter 28: Reprieve

Angry jaws snapped themselves round the broad tree-bough that Tuchek had just been shivering on; the Draca, wings cleverly tucked close to the body as the serpentine beast made its leap up into the branches, had come inches away from searing the boy with its dagger-like teeth.

"Mother!" Tuchek shrieked, and was instantly ashamed; here he was, a boy trying to prove himself a man, and what would he be remembered for in his last moments?

Calling for my mother. Mother...

The Draca wailed its fury and writhed like a beast seized with foaming-mouth disease; Tuchek, dangling limply from a branch only four or five feet above, glanced down briefly and saw his chance: the terrifying creature had snagged on the bolberry thorns, which were just sharp enough to have dug themselves into the surprisingly-tender scales. Flashes of green blinded Tuchek beneath the distant, cool light of the evening stars; desperately, he looked above him, saw the next branch, and clawed at it. If he could only garner the strength to hoist himself up-- he might sequester himself into a small space...but there would be no others to climb. He had neared the top of this tall tree, and if the Draca could un-snare itself, it might simply spread its wings and glide to the top. Once there, it would finish him...and Tuchek could remember with nauseating accuracy how those teeth had destroyed his friends; the sickening rip of flesh separating from bone as the monsters had their feasts.

Mother, please forgive me all my wrongs. If there is every a way I can get out of this...

"...Water Fly?"

The sudden, but distant, call of a young girl froze both Tuchek and the snared beasts in their tracks. That voice...where had he heard it before? It was clear, melodious, and had a touch of foreign hue to the voice-- the Draca, disturbed, forgot its wooden prison and turned its head toward the sound with a quick, dart-like motion.

Here is my chance!

Grunting with the effort and barely noticing the warmth at his bottom where he had voided himself, Tuchek launched himself at the branch above him and scrabbled for safety, exhaling in a cry of shuddering relief at the fresh thorns which tore at his skin. He had reached the top; he was safe, for the moment.

Expecting at any second to have his ankle caught in the maw of the Beast, Tuchek glanced down again with saucer-like eyes...but the nest of branches below him was empty.