The Lost Dragon Princess

Chapter 4

I sensed Damas disappearing from this realm. Another roar echoed over the waves.

My charm didn’t translate the noise, but I knew without a doubt that the dragon realized he’d been tricked. And was on his way back.

I lunged and finally caught the end of the rope. Gasping as I banged my knee on the wall, I hauled myself up. I climbed faster than I’d ever climbed in my life, but it was too slow. I knew it was without looking back.

The roar came again. Much closer this time.

I scrambled over the ledge, long wet grass slapping at my face, and lunged to my feet. Not bothering to retrieve the rope, I sprinted for the trees beyond the grass, hoping—praying—the dragon wouldn’t be able to fly through the dense evergreens.

In the distance, I could make out my black Jeep. I doubted that it would keep me safe, but if I could get back to the highway, maybe…

The roar sounded again above and behind me. I glanced back, almost tripping at the terror that filled me when I saw those violet eyes in that furious, black reptilian face. Somewhere between a wolf and a lizard, the dragon was a million times more fearsome than either. And he was huge. A hundred feet long? He had to be.

I sprinted into the trees, lamenting that there was no path, no road, to help me through the soggy undergrowth. The dragon pulled up, the dense trees making him pause, and he circled.

Would he fly above them until I passed into a clearing? Or change into his human form to give chase?

The blazing light of a sun filled the air behind me, and heat scorched my back. I caromed off a tree as I glanced back again. Flames roiled after me, trees cracking and catching fire, blackening in instants. Birds shrieked and fled the forest.

The flames licked at my back, but one of the small charms on my necklace grew icy cold, and I didn’t feel the pain of being engulfed. The brilliant light stung my eyes, but neither my skin, clothing, nor hair caught fire. Even with the protection of the charm, the heat was intense, and it chased me all the way to my Jeep.

I sprang in, shoving my sword scabbard aside so I could sit, and thrust the key into the ignition. I jammed my foot against the pedal and spun the wheel, groaning because I’d parked in a clearing. Who could have known?

The Jeep roared toward the forest service road that had gotten me most of the way to the cliff. There was no time to buckle my seatbelt, and my head bumped the soft top with each dip and bump. When I made it to the ancient dirt road, mud spattering as my wheels hit it, things didn’t improve much, but I steered down it as fast as I could.

Branches blotted out much of the sky above me, but not so much that I didn’t see that big black body following me. Easily keeping pace.

“i***t, i***t,” I chanted to myself. Why hadn’t I heeded Damas’s wisdom?

A flat straight stretch opened up, and I pressed the accelerator. How far to Highway 101? Seven miles? Eight? An eternity? Yes.

The branches overhead grew less thick, and I knew I was in trouble. I couldn’t see anything in the mirrors, but he was up there.

A roar blasted the air right above me, louder than a foghorn. Talons slashed through the soft top of the Jeep, plunging in like daggers. Like swords.

I jerked low in the seat and hit the brakes. A thunderous ripping filled my ears. The dragon’s momentum carried him past, but he took the top with him.

“Hard top,” I muttered. “Should’ve gotten a hard top.”

As he turned, maneuvering his massive body between the trees to come back for me, I hit the accelerator again. I wasn’t going to make it past him. There was no way.

More agile than anything that large should have been, he rose above me and then dove, arrowing straight toward the driver’s seat.

I jerked down as low as I could while still holding the wheel. The Jeep lurched off the side of the road, underbrush tearing at the fender. The dragon grabbed its frame and lifted.

When the wheels were pulled off the road, I was so startled that I couldn’t do anything but react. I sprang out the open window, almost getting my scabbard caught on the frame, as the dragon lifted my Jeep higher and higher.

My shoulder hit the ground first, hard, and I rolled into the undergrowth, crashing into a tree with a blast of pain. I sprang up, yanking Nightshade free.

As powerful as Fezzik’s bullets were, they hadn’t done as much as I expected against the wyvern. I was afraid they’d be useless against the dragon. All I could hope was that Nightshade, the longsword reputedly made in another world, could cut through scale. Because there was nowhere else to run. All I could do was defend myself—or die trying.

The dragon spun and hurled the entire Jeep into a thick stand of old-growth trees. The wrenching crash that thundered through the forest was the most horrific noise I’d ever heard. I couldn’t help but gape as the four-thousand-pound Jeep stuck. It was wedged between three great trees and twenty feet off the ground.

Branches snapped as the dragon dropped to the road not ten feet away from me. He landed on all fours, wings spread and powerful muscles rippling under his black scales. The icy violet eyes bored into my soul, and I saw my death.

I hefted my sword, determined to go down swinging, even as I backed into a copse of trees and hoped in vain that he wouldn’t be able to reach me with that big body.

He shifted back into his human form, and I groaned. How had I forgotten he could do that?

As he advanced with deadly intent, I muttered, “I am so screwed.”

“Listen, dragon,” I said as he strode toward me with murder in his eyes. Could he understand English? I almost laughed at the ridiculousness of my plight. “I know you wanted to take that wyvern somewhere, but she was my assignment. She killed a bunch of humans, and my people wanted her dead, not rehabilitated, whatever the hell that means.”

The dragon stopped outside of my sword range, eyeing Nightshade briefly—dismissively—before locking his cold gaze on me again. He didn’t have any weapons, but I’d already seen him tear thousand-pound rocks apart and hurl that wyvern across the cave with his mind.

“I don’t know when you got your assignment,” I went on, very slightly encouraged that he’d stopped, even if it was only to glare venomous daggers at me. “But I got mine two weeks ago. She was the last of three wyverns that attacked children here in Oregon, and she was mine to take down. I…” I what? I’d run out of things to say. Did the dragon even understand? “I had dibs,” I finished weakly, as if we were squabbling over a toy on a playground.

“You are a bounty hunter?” the dragon asked in his resonant voice. His resonant scornful voice.

I had a feeling he didn’t often talk to the people he was about to slay.

“No. I freelance. You can say that I am a social worker.”

“You are a soldier?” He looked me up and down, skepticism joining the scorn.

With my jeans and shirt half torn off, acid burns on my hand and sleeve, and half the forest tangled in my thick blonde braid, I didn’t look my best. How could he ask me that? Surely I was tall for my age, almost six feet but that did not mean that I was a soldier. And how did he know about what happened on earth anyway?

I thrust my sword toward the mangled vehicle dangling in the trees. I couldn’t believe it hadn’t fallen down. “And my missions are hunting down and killing magical beings that have committed heinous crimes against humanity. Like that wyvern did.”

“You are female.”

“So what? I’m six feet tall, can bench more than my bodyweight, and can skin the balls off a ram with my sword.”

His eyes narrowed, and a part of me wanted to skin a dragon’s balls and show him that I was capable.

“Females do not fight,” he said. “They rule society and command males to fight.”

It dawned on me that he hadn’t been calling me weak. “Oh, so dragons are like bees?”

That violet light in his eyes flared. “Dragons are not like insects.”

He stepped forward, and I whipped up the point of my sword. A wave of power knocked me twenty feet, the same as it had that wyvern, and only luck kept me from slamming into a tree. A bed of wet ferns broke my fall. Sort of.

Fortunately, the dragon did not rush after me. He stood between two trees, sunlight filtering through the branches and onto his short black hair and hard face, and scrutinized me. Had I confused him? I hoped so. I also hoped that he didn’t eat people he found confusing.

“Listen, dragon.” I pushed myself to my feet. “I—”

“Lord Xervanquotendal,” he corrected.

“What?”

“My name.”

“Can I call you Xer?”

“No.”

I pushed myself to my feet. “If you’d ever heard how badly I mangle suea rong hai when I try to order it from Min’s food truck, you wouldn’t want me to attempt to say your name.”

His eyes narrowed. “You may call me Lord Xervan. You have interfered with the will of this representative of the Dragon Justice Court. You have slain a wyvern that would have been punished and rehabilitated. We do not kill dragons or dragon-kin, no matter how weak and degenerate they are.”

“Sorry, but like I said, I had the assignment first. She was mine to take down, and I did.” I lifted my chin. Maybe he appreciated someone looking him in the eye. And maybe someone who worked for the justice-whatever wouldn’t kill me. But he’d only mentioned dragons and dragon-kin as worthy of keeping alive, not humans.

His nostrils flared, more like the dragon he’d been than the human he was now, and he looked me up and down again. Disdainfully.

“You are part human, that verminous infestation that blights this world, but…” He sniffed, nose wrinkling. “You also smell like an elf. And you also smell like a dragon. But how can that be?”

“What kind of nonsense are you spewing?” I demanded and the way that his eyes lit up made me take a step back.

“You do not speak to a member of a Dragon Justice Court in that way, you mongrel. You have no sense of etiquette or decorum or propriety whatsoever. But you also smell like a dragon and that can only mean that you have come in contact with someone of my kind earlier.”

“You are the first dragon that I have seen in my entire existence of seventeen years and trust me, I have no more interest in becoming dragon fodder or meet more of your kind.”

“How can you have dragon and elf blood flowing through your veins? What kind of sorcery is this?”

“Dude? What are you asking? I am a human. Even though I am adopted, I would certainly know if I was this elf or worse something like you.”

“Dragons are superior creatures. You would be blessed to have been someone like me,” the dragon said in a haughty voice and I could not help but snort at him.