Page 43
Story: Dragon Gods
She saw the shrug of his shoulders from across the fire. “I just did. I don’t know. I probably read it somewhere in some faerytale.”
She wanted to ask what books he’d been reading that talked about Wuecan faeries. Yes, reading was banned solely for Dragonborn, but the king didn’t look kindly on any of his people reading the true histories of Wueco. Another part of her didn’t want to know the answer. Perhaps he’d read the histories from the same bookshelves she had.
Silence fell again and she let it, sinking into the sounds of the fire and the night. This time when she closed her eyes, it was to sleep with the knowledge that at least Ocon didn’t plan on killing her tonight.
* * *
They woke earlierthan she wanted, but the fire went out again and the forest was lit with dawn. They could only get so much sleep huddled on the hard earth. Sofia managed to find some non-poisonous berries a few minutes from the clearing and gave Ocon a brief overview of hownotto kill himself finding food, but she didn’t have the energy to hunt that morning and both of them were anxious to get moving. She didn’t know how fast shifters could run in their human forms, but if all went well, they’d be back in familiar territory by tonight. Or at least back to the tunnel.
They were lucky enough that the cool night had left behind plenty of dew and for the first time in a couple of days, Sofia didn’t feel too thirsty to think.
Still, as they walked, Ocon kept an eye out for water sources, constantly pointing to small puddles with a hopeful glint. But it hadn’t rained recently and any water was stagnant and had grown a fur coat of scum and algae. After a while he got the hint, but he continued to stare at every puddle as if it might pour forth a stream of fresh water and Sofia had to actively ignore his pouting. Her own mouth felt like sandpaper by midday, but she wasn’t going to spend energy whining about it.
“How far from the tunnel opening do you think we are?” Ocon asked. She watched as he split the bright pitahaya he was holding with his dagger and took a large bite from the flesh. His tongue flicked out to stop the juices from dripping down his chin and Sofia looked away, blinking hard. She focused back on her own fruit, which she was eating in small bites, carefully slicing one piece at a time.
She didn’t want to admit that she didn’t know, but she also didn’t want to give him more information than he already had. She’d rather it take him by surprise when they made it back to rebel territory and hit him over the head with the biggest rock she could find.
So instead of answering, she shrugged, not meeting his eyes.
“You don’t know,” he sneered.
“I’m just not telling you. I need you alive by the end of all of this, but that doesn’t require you knowing anything.”
“Why do you need me alive? Other than you asking those few questions during your little breakdown, your people didn’t ask me shit the entire time I was locked up.”
She stayed silent.
“You clearly need me for something. You wanted to know about the prison. The prisoners…”
She could feel his eyes staring at her, cold and calculating.
“You’re hoping for a prisoner exchange.”
He said it as a statement and she dug her nails into her hands, focusing on the sting and trying to keep her face blank.
“A specific prisoner perhaps? It’s clearly someone you all care about, considering you’ve never tried to save any of the Dragonborn prisoners before.”
“Don’t talk about shit you don’t know.”
Ocon continued, ignoring her simmering rage. “Did we catch your boyfriend? Girlfriend? I can’t imagine anyone caring aboutyou.”
She threw the remnants of her pitahaya down and sprang toward him, the small dagger pressed against the soft skin of his neck a second later. His breath smelled sweet from the fruit as he looked at her, a gleam of triumph in his eyes despite the blade against his throat.
“Can’t trade a dead body, now can you?”
“Your precious chief commander already started killing the prisoners before I’d even left the city, so what do you want to bet there is no one left to save? Maybe I should take that bet and simply slit your throat here and now. I’ll leave your body at the foot of the wall and hope your people find you before the jaguars and blood monkeys do.”
The muscle in his jaw jumped and she watched his throat bob up and down with a swallow. The cocky grin was gone, replaced by a rawness.
“You just found out you’re expendable?” she said, almost wanting to laugh. “Your father couldn’t even convince Chief Commander Harlow to make the trade to save your life.”
Ocon kicked out, his boot making sharp contact with her shin. The hit reverberated through her body, and he stood as she stumbled back, his own dagger pulled and aimed at her chest.
A twig snapping echoed through the air, loud and clear above the cacophony of the forest and Sofia’s blood went cold. Ocon read the look in her eyes and his eyes narrowed.
“It could be a rabbit.”
“Too big,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. They were standing chest to chest and she felt the sharp intake of breath from him at her words.
She wanted to ask what books he’d been reading that talked about Wuecan faeries. Yes, reading was banned solely for Dragonborn, but the king didn’t look kindly on any of his people reading the true histories of Wueco. Another part of her didn’t want to know the answer. Perhaps he’d read the histories from the same bookshelves she had.
Silence fell again and she let it, sinking into the sounds of the fire and the night. This time when she closed her eyes, it was to sleep with the knowledge that at least Ocon didn’t plan on killing her tonight.
* * *
They woke earlierthan she wanted, but the fire went out again and the forest was lit with dawn. They could only get so much sleep huddled on the hard earth. Sofia managed to find some non-poisonous berries a few minutes from the clearing and gave Ocon a brief overview of hownotto kill himself finding food, but she didn’t have the energy to hunt that morning and both of them were anxious to get moving. She didn’t know how fast shifters could run in their human forms, but if all went well, they’d be back in familiar territory by tonight. Or at least back to the tunnel.
They were lucky enough that the cool night had left behind plenty of dew and for the first time in a couple of days, Sofia didn’t feel too thirsty to think.
Still, as they walked, Ocon kept an eye out for water sources, constantly pointing to small puddles with a hopeful glint. But it hadn’t rained recently and any water was stagnant and had grown a fur coat of scum and algae. After a while he got the hint, but he continued to stare at every puddle as if it might pour forth a stream of fresh water and Sofia had to actively ignore his pouting. Her own mouth felt like sandpaper by midday, but she wasn’t going to spend energy whining about it.
“How far from the tunnel opening do you think we are?” Ocon asked. She watched as he split the bright pitahaya he was holding with his dagger and took a large bite from the flesh. His tongue flicked out to stop the juices from dripping down his chin and Sofia looked away, blinking hard. She focused back on her own fruit, which she was eating in small bites, carefully slicing one piece at a time.
She didn’t want to admit that she didn’t know, but she also didn’t want to give him more information than he already had. She’d rather it take him by surprise when they made it back to rebel territory and hit him over the head with the biggest rock she could find.
So instead of answering, she shrugged, not meeting his eyes.
“You don’t know,” he sneered.
“I’m just not telling you. I need you alive by the end of all of this, but that doesn’t require you knowing anything.”
“Why do you need me alive? Other than you asking those few questions during your little breakdown, your people didn’t ask me shit the entire time I was locked up.”
She stayed silent.
“You clearly need me for something. You wanted to know about the prison. The prisoners…”
She could feel his eyes staring at her, cold and calculating.
“You’re hoping for a prisoner exchange.”
He said it as a statement and she dug her nails into her hands, focusing on the sting and trying to keep her face blank.
“A specific prisoner perhaps? It’s clearly someone you all care about, considering you’ve never tried to save any of the Dragonborn prisoners before.”
“Don’t talk about shit you don’t know.”
Ocon continued, ignoring her simmering rage. “Did we catch your boyfriend? Girlfriend? I can’t imagine anyone caring aboutyou.”
She threw the remnants of her pitahaya down and sprang toward him, the small dagger pressed against the soft skin of his neck a second later. His breath smelled sweet from the fruit as he looked at her, a gleam of triumph in his eyes despite the blade against his throat.
“Can’t trade a dead body, now can you?”
“Your precious chief commander already started killing the prisoners before I’d even left the city, so what do you want to bet there is no one left to save? Maybe I should take that bet and simply slit your throat here and now. I’ll leave your body at the foot of the wall and hope your people find you before the jaguars and blood monkeys do.”
The muscle in his jaw jumped and she watched his throat bob up and down with a swallow. The cocky grin was gone, replaced by a rawness.
“You just found out you’re expendable?” she said, almost wanting to laugh. “Your father couldn’t even convince Chief Commander Harlow to make the trade to save your life.”
Ocon kicked out, his boot making sharp contact with her shin. The hit reverberated through her body, and he stood as she stumbled back, his own dagger pulled and aimed at her chest.
A twig snapping echoed through the air, loud and clear above the cacophony of the forest and Sofia’s blood went cold. Ocon read the look in her eyes and his eyes narrowed.
“It could be a rabbit.”
“Too big,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. They were standing chest to chest and she felt the sharp intake of breath from him at her words.
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