I straighten up. “I think they will try.”
“Then we shall go on,” Vyrathion says and strides off in the direction Clyde showed him. “I hope they’re not far away.”
10
- Morgan-
We walk on until sunset. I keep eating berries and nuts and the occasional piece of fruit, and Vyrathion doesn’t eat anything.
More Plood come with worthless items, and Vyrathion angrily tosses and kicks them away.
There’s mostly rocks and leaves, but also one iron piece that I think was once part of a scabbard for a sword.
“What’s that?” Vyrathion asks when I turn the thing over in my hand.
“See for yourself.” I give it to him. “It’s broken.”
He peers at the iron piece in his hand. “But it has once been whole. And there’s evidence that it was decorated. Those who decorate trash metals may also understand the meaning of beauty. I mean, true beauty. Not this garbage.” He drops the iron piece.
“You think they may have gold, too?” I ask, not sure what he means.
“One tribe must have it. If there’s any gold at all on this lump of useless dirt, at least one tribe must have discovered it and seen its beauty. All sentient species do that. Even yours.”
“And you think the tribe that made that may also have gold?”
He shrugs. “Perhaps. I have avoided the tribes because they all want to kill me. But perhaps it is the only way, now that Praxigor clearly doesn’t keep his hoard in your village and it turns out you have no idea where it is.”
“What about the Earth girls?”
“You said there’s a small chance they have gold. I’d prefer to not wander around the jungle for an eternity looking for them and then find that they’re only wearing tiaras made from zinc. And you clearly want me to go this way, which is suspicious in itself. Where was this found?” He touches the iron piece with one toe.
I ask Clyde and he points.
“So not towards what you had me believe was the direction of Praxigor’s hoard,” Vyrathion ponders.
“There’s probably a village,” I tell him, not too keen on finding myself around tribesmen again. “With cavemen, just like the black-striped ones. It may be their village.”
“I have nothing against caveman villages,” Vyrathion says. “Remind me, where did I find you? Twice? No, we will go to this village. I will quickly search it for gold, and if there is some, all is well. If there’s none, I will punish them and we will simply go on. Come along now. Perhaps you may still be of use.”
He walks on.
I take a moment to hesitate, and Clyde stays with me. Those villages are among the most dangerous places for me. Those black-striped men are not unique - I think all the tribes would be happy to take me captive and keep me as a tribal entertainment center.
Then I lose sight of Vyrathion in the dense greenery, and the jungle seems to draw closer and get darker and more deadly right away. And of course, those black-striped guys are very likely hunting us.
“Fine,” I mutter as I hurry after the dragon. “But you better protect me well, or I’ll be miffed.”
I catch up with him, and immediately the fear of the jungle subsides and is replaced with the fear of him, which is mixed with something else that really confuses me.
Night falls and Vyrathion sighs and groans when I tell him that I’ll need a rest. “Resting is all you do!” he complains. “Resting and eating and slowing me down. It’s a wonder I don’t leave you behind.”
I find a spot between the tall roots of a giant tree. “I just need a few hours. Just until sunrise.” I curl up on a heap of dead leaves.
Damn, I should never have left the furs and comfort of the Borok village. Right now I could have been sitting on the penthouse plateau with the girls, sipping sour frit and trashtalking the cavemen and their clumsy attempts to be noticed. Instead I’m sleeping on the damp ground on dirt that smells like a zoo, glared at by a dragon who thinks I’m trying to betray him and accompanied by an alien of the same type as those that abducted me and dumped me here.
“I really should find a caveman psychologist and get my head checked,” I mutter. “Even if the cure is a hard knock to the head to sort me out.”
“What was that?” Vyrathion asks, voice full of suspicion. “I forbid you from speaking spells in my presence!”
