Chapter 23 Fly Far, Little Wyvern
“Want to hear a joke?” Alric asks, his arms wound securely around Calder and me.
We’re huddled against the cliff face, using the donkey as a windbreak as the storm picks up stronger than before. The howling wind cuts through us like icy knives, numbing our extremities and chilling us to the bone. Thick clouds loom overhead, obscuring any trace of the sky as snowflakes swirl around us, stinging our faces with their icy bite. We’re all shivering and the knowledge that the donkey won't survive long only lends credence to the fact that we’ll be dying shortly after.
“A joke?” I ask, my teeth chattering. Of course, Alric would think of a joke as we all face death.
“A mage and a slayer each have a horse, but they can’t tell them apart. So the mage cuts the tail off his horse and it all goes well for a while, but then the Slayer’s horse loses his tail in battle so they’re back to where they started. Finally, they consult a traveling merchant and he says ‘You two are a right pair of fools. Anyone can see that the black horse is three inches taller than the white horse.’”
If I weren’t so cold, I’d be angry at such a stupid joke, but as I open my mouth to say as much, I feel Calder shaking even harder. Looking down, I find him positively shuddering. Worried, I tilt his head back and find him biting his bottom lip, trying not to laugh.
The moment his eyes meet mine, he breaks, laughing loudly. I blink in surprise, but against my will, I chuckle as well. Calder’s joy is contagious. Before long, all three of us are laughing so hard I get a stitch in my side.
“That was a dumb fucking joke, Alric,” I laugh, wiping tears from my eyes before they can freeze.
“Yet we’re all laughing,” he cackles, patting me on the back in a friendly way.
“Laughing before we die? What a way to go,” I joke.
“I’d rather die laughing than screaming.” Calder heaves a wave of laughter and we follow in another fit of giggles.
No one will be dying on this night, Anara.
I sober. The thought my mind sends me is nice and all, but meaningless. We will die, everyone else is probably dead. Zaries is dead. Oberon is dead. Sylvain, Thorne, Silas. All dead. We’re just waiting for our turn. That damn dragon came and wiped out a whole contingent of future slayers and the slayer master himself. She was victorious in her blows.
If I live through this, if I kill the silver dragon, I’ll kill that ebony bitch next.
Without Thorne, the only thing you’ll be killing is an infant wyvern.
My mouth twists as I hunker down, even though I realized some time ago there’s no way to stop the cold seeping into my very core. Way to beat a girl while she’s down, I tell the voice as a memory stirs to life in my frozen mind.
Whether I like it or not, the cold is seeping the energy right out of me. I feel my eyes growing heavy as Calder’s breath slowly evens out with sleep. I yawn, unable to suppress it, and slowly my head lowers to Alric’s shoulder as consciousness fades away.
Elysandra’s in her room next to a gilded cage. She’s singing quietly, a stick in her hand as she walks in circles around the cage.
“Elsie? What are you doing?” I ask as I enter her room.
She looks up at me, her blue eyes bright with excitement. Today is her ninth birthday and that cage was a gift from her father.
“Daddy gave me a new toy!” Elysandra says, clapping her hands as she beams at me. “Come, see!”
I hurry over to her side, excited to see what will keep us busy for the foreseeable future. Last year he got her a magical toy bird that could sing any tune she wanted. It was amazing until it broke. Then it sounded like a broken instrument that shouldn't be used anymore but kept going on and on. Her father ended up chucking it into the fireplace after hearing disjointed music far too long for his liking.
Elysandra grabs my hand, pulling me in front of her. “Can you believe it? I have no idea where he could have found it!”
My jaw drops as I see what's inside the cage. A small brown wyvern is curled tightly on itself, using its wings to try and hide from our eyes. The reptile shivers, an elusive but not uncommon animal in the forests of the kingdom as it tucks its long tail under the wings that function as arms.
“It won't let me see its face. Can you believe it?” Elysandra asks as she jams the stick through the bars and stabs the little creature.
A wail of pain rises as it tightens into a little brown ball. She grinds the stick in, tearing its scaled skin until blood trickles down its back.
“Elsie! You’re hurting it!” I gasp, grabbing her arm and trying to pull her away.
“So what, Ana? It’s like a dragon. And dragons need to die. I’m sure that’s why Daddy gave it to me. To teach me to kill. If this little lizard won't play with me, then it will die for my entertainment!”
I seize her wrist and jerk her away, putting myself between her and the cage. “Elsie, I came in here to tell you your mother has another present. She’s waiting for you in the throne room. I think it’s a horse!”
It’s not a lie, that’s why I came, but I can't stand hearing the small creature scream anymore.
“A horse? I have plenty of horses!” She tries to push me aside, but I stand still.
“Elsie, you know how the queen gets if you don’t obey her,” I whisper.
Elysandra pouts, fisting her fine silk gown with both hands as she stomps her feet. “Fine, I’ll go, but don’t you dare kill it without me!”
My shoulders slump as she leaves the room and I turn slowly to the tiny, bleeding creature in the cage. Slowly, trembling, it peers out from under its wings and its golden eyes find me. They’re filled with fear and shedding tears.
“I’m so, so sorry. No creature deserves to suffer like this.” I open the cage, not caring what the little reptile might do, and scoop it into my hands. It’s cold to the touch, not slimy like I expected it to be with how slick its scales look.
The wyvern huddles in my hand for a moment before flattening against my palm. I realize with a start that it’s absorbing my warmth. As the creature settles, relaxing against my skin, I assess the wounds on its back and apply a little salve I keep on hand for scrapes and bruises.
“I won't let her kill you, little one,” I whisper as I walk over to the balcony. “Do your wings still work?”
The wyvern shakes itself as it feels the sun hit its scales. It stretches in my palm, wings spreading out. I can tell it hurts by the way the creature moves slowly, but it looks like it will recover.
“Fly away, little one. I’ll tell her you escaped,” I promise.
It flaps its wings once, twice, and then hovers in front of my face. Slowly, it stretches its neck forward and rubs its scaly maw against my nose. I smile, scratching under its chin before the creature squawks like a bird and takes flight.
“Fly far, little wyvern. Fly so far away they can’t ever find you again.”