Page 20 of Caveman Alien’s Terror (Caveman Aliens #25)

20

- Astrid -

I lost my hat somewhere along the way, but walking on the edge of the canyon, there aren’t any trees above me to drip their globs of sap on me. Even the sunlight comes down unfiltered, and the brightness should cheer me up.

It doesn’t. If anything, the sunlight makes me think of Praxigor and his eyes, yellow and fierce, before they went green.

He must be really sick. But I think he was always planning to leave me. It’s obviously a deep-seated trauma in him, from when the other dragons left him behind on Xren. And he must have decided to never be left again.

‘I’m leaving you.’ There was something mechanical about the way he said it, as if he had practiced it many times.

It casts everything that happened into a painful shadow. For a moment I thought that he actually felt something for me. His little touches, the way his voice would sometimes become tender, his stolen looks when he thought I wasn’t paying attention — was it all an act? Was he just setting up to hurt me by leaving? And I was simply a pleasant diversion along the way, an easy conquest?

“But he wasn’t much of an actor,” I seethe to myself. “He couldn’t act his way out of a wet paper bag. He was all direct and… real! ” Of course he had the actor’s talent for catching the light in the most breathtaking way, but that was it. I’ve never met anyone who wore their heart on their sleeve like that damn dragon.

Unless he totally tricked me. I can’t see how that much effort would be worth it, but he’s an alien. He might think very differently.

“I can’t be sure,” I mutter as I kick a pebble into the canyon. “I have to assume that he’s just a jerk. And he did tell me that dragons don’t have friends. I should probably have believed him.”

The cavemen are careful to not walk too fast, so that I can easily follow. I guess I should be excited about finding the Ceremat tribe and maybe Cora, but Praxigor leaving has turned my mind dark and tired. I miss his presence, his reassuring confidence, his deep voice with the metal clarity in it, his great beauty that had me smugly look around to check if someone was seeing me in his company and envying me. “It could never work,” I remind myself. “It was bound to?—”

“Watch out!”

I spin around and reach for the knife in my belt. The caveman behind me has his sword out and is running towards me.

A small green creature has come out of the jungle and is bounding straight for me on six strong legs, and the caveman is trying to cut it off before it gets to me.

“Stop!” I yell and raise my hands. “Don’t kill her!”

The caveman runs on. Just as he’s about to hack his sword into the attacker, he drops the weapon to the ground and throws himself at her, grabbing her with both hands.

A short fight ensues, full of hissing and swearing before the creature jumps off the tribesman. She trots over to me and takes up a defensive position between me and him, her tails looking angry.

I squat down and stroke carefully along her back. “I’m glad to see you, Luna!”

She looks at me with one eye, the two others still focused on the caveman.

“Good work, warrior!” I praise him. “Thank you for not harming her. Perfect catch!”

He gives me a lopsided smile as he touches a spot on his face. “That stevik has some sharp claws.”

I swing Bryar’s backpack off and rummage through it. “Let me look at it. I think I have a remedy against scratches.”

“Don’t waste that on me, Shaman,” he says and picks up his sword. “I have my own remedy.” He pats the satchel hanging from his belt.

I shoulder the backpack again. “If you’re sure, warrior.”

Luna walks ahead of me along the canyon. I’m glad to see her, but even her presence can’t chase away the hollow feeling. I didn’t know I gave away so much of myself to that dragon that when he’s gone, it feels like part of me was ripped away.

“It looks like you were right,” I tell Luna. “You never liked him that much. You have better instincts than me.”

The sun is just touching the horizon when we get to the place where it’s possible to cross the canyon. It’s a sharp, narrow ridge of black rock that stretches almost the full distance to the other side. It’s about twice the distance as the point where the rope bridge crossed, and that was plainly why it was built there. It was a narrow part of the rift.

The leader of my escort scans the sky. “No sign of irox yet. But they can appear suddenly. We must be quick to cross and get into the woods on the other side.”

The tribesmen stand and mutter between them as they stare at the ridge. It’s thin and sharp and it has an uneven edge that’s going to be hard to walk on. On both sides the chasm is so deep, it just turns into darkness with no visible bottom.

One man walks across, touches the other side, and carefully comes halfway back. “Walk fast,” he suggests, balancing precariously on the edge. “That makes it easier to keep your balance. The stone is not slippery. But it’s too narrow to pass each other.”

“That should be no problem,” the leader says. “You will have one man in front of you and one behind you, Shaman Astrid.”

Luna runs across, fast and sure footed, passing the caveman without any problems. She turns and comes back, stops before she reaches this side, and looks up at me.

“My turn,” I state with all the determination I can muster right now. Having tightened the straps on my sandals, I step onto the thin, knife-like ridge and walk as fast as I can.

Luna trots in front of me as if to show me the way. I’m vaguely conscious of the leader of the escort following behind me, but I’m not going to check. There’s a sheer drop to each side, as well as a hot draft from below that blows my hair into my face.

The caveman waiting turns and walks in front of me.

At the halfway mark an ear-rending screech pierces the air.

“Irox,” the man in front of me says, drawing his heavy sword while trying to keep his balance.

I still look straight ahead, wanting to speed up but afraid to put a foot wrong because it would be my death.

“Can’t see it!” the caveman in front yells.

“Must be in the jungle!” the man on the side we left answers. “Keep going!”

Luna freezes. Then she takes two fast, bounding steps and jumps off the ridge.

“Luna!” I scream in horror as she vanishes out of sight.

Another screech rattles me, and to me it has a note of surprise.

There’s a furious flapping of leathery wings, and then the dactyl comes into view, swooping up from the chasm.

“There!” the cavemen yell. “It was below us!”

I keep walking, but as the dactyl flaps wildly and turns in the air, in a flash I spot the furry green spot on its head. Luna has attached herself to the monster’s head, ruining the attack.

I walk as fast as I can until strong arms grab me and lift me onto the other side. The two other cavemen follow us, pushing me ahead of them away from the edge.

“A devious irox,” the leader says. “And a brave stevik!”

The dactyl has forgotten all about its attack and is now only concerned with getting rid of the menace that’s sitting on its head and clawing at its eyes.

And it seems to me that Luna can never survive that, unless she kills the dactyl and makes it fall to the ground from not too high up. But it might just as well fall down into the canyon, and then I don’t think I’ll ever see her again. She needs my help.

I sprint out into the open before the cavemen can stop me. “Hey! Ugly old monster dactyl! Pick on someone your own size!” I wave my arms to catch the monster’s attention.

And it works. The dactyl spots me with its round, lifeless eyes, turns in the air, flaps its wings in a more determined way, and then swoops down to snatch me.

Two cavemen stand behind me, swords out.

I stand still, ready to throw myself to the ground but wanting Luna to have the best chance to get off.

She keeps her claws out of the monster until the last moment. Then she goes wild, hisses and scratches at the dactyl’s eyes with all six talons.

The dactyl screeches in fury, breaks off its attack, flaps its wings, and turns back up. At the lowest point in the curve, Luna jumps off the monster, falls through the air, and lands lightly on her feet.

The cavemen grab me and carry me into the relative safety of the jungle.

“Thank you,” I tell them when they set me down. “We all got across safely.”

“Some would say it’s unwise to risk one’s life for a wild Small,” the leader says calmly. “And to endanger others for the same reason.”

Luna comes over to me and looks up with all three eyes.

“I understand,” I reply. “I’m sorry, but taking care of Luna is one of my shaman’s duties. She helps me understand the nature of the world. I am grateful for your help, warriors.”

“Without the stevik, this would not have turned out so well,” he continues. “I’m glad you two are reunited. I am Rater’ax, by the way. Shall we go on?”

“Which way, Rater’ax?” I ask. “We’re on the right side now, but the Ceremat village could be anywhere.”

“We found a well-used trail,” he tells me and points to a spot that looks like any other spot in the woods. “I suspect it leads to their village. It seems they are not used to covering their tracks on their own turf. Are you ready, Shaman?”

“Lead on, Rater’ax,” I tell him. My heart rate isn’t even that high. It feels like nothing matters that much.

We keep walking. The jungle on this side is much the same as on the other, humid and dense with bushes and plants. The canopy of leaves is high above us as we walk on, and it gets dark fast.

Luna stays close to me. I muse that she must have some kind of instinct for taking down dactyls. Or maybe she was improvising the whole thing.

“You’re amazing,” I tell her, daring to stroke along her back. “You saved us all.”

The escort leader waits for me to catch up with him. “We intend to keep going until midnight. We would prefer to come upon the Ceremat village in daylight. If we find it in the dark, we won’t try to enter, but wait outside their gates. Not all tribes appreciate uninvited night-time visitors.”

“All right,” I agree. I don’t have the energy to get excited about maybe seeing Cora again soon. It feels like it won’t make much difference.

At midnight we set up a small camp. I lie down by the fire and expect to sleep immediately, because it’s been a long day and I’m bone tired.

But of course I end up tossing and turning on the ground, my mind busy with Praxigor until the jungle starts to light up again. Only then do I doze off in a fitful sleep.

“We’re close to their village,” Rater’ax says when I wake up and rub my eyes. “We will be there in two hundred heartbeats.”

Translating his caveman units to Earth time, I think he means that we’re maybe ten minutes away.

I arrange myself as well as I can, but there are limits to how presentable I can be after a night of sleeping outside. I’m still wearing my old dress, and while it’s tempting to change into the one that Bryar sent, it might be useful to have one to change into later.

Rater’ax takes my backpack. “I will carry this. It’s not proper to let the shaman carry her own pack when others go nearly unburdened.”

The Ceremat tribe has a wall that’s similar to the Borok tribe’s, very tall and made from sharpened logs. There’s a narrow gate that I guess is the main entrance. I can hear deep voices chatting and laughing in there, and the column of gray smoke tells me that the tribe is having their breakfast.

Rater’ax knocks hard on the gate with the hilt of his sword. “Shaman Astrid of the Borok tribe requests entrance to the Ceremat village!” he bellows.

A minute goes by with nothing happening, except that the chatting has stopped.

The gate creaks open. Two burly cavemen with brown stripes stand in the opening, hands on their swords and looking mean. Behind them there are many more. I can’t see Cora anywhere, though.

“State your errand, warriors,” one of them rumbles.

“This is Shaman Astrid of the Borok tribe,” Rater’ax says. “She is an envoy of Chief Karr’ox of the Borok and Tretter tribes. We wish to enter, so that she may present Chief Karr’ox’s offer of friendship with the Ceremat tribe.”

For a moment I start to worry that this isn’t the Ceremat tribe at all. It could be a totally different one, for all we know.

“While we have never heard of any of those tribes,” one of the men says, “you have chosen a good time to see us. We’re also intrigued by your woman that you call your shaman. You may enter the village of the Ceremat tribe.”

Okay, good . It’s the right tribe.

They stand back, and I straighten up and walk in as the leader of the group, trying to be regal but feeling faintly ridiculous because they’re all a couple of feet taller than me.

All eyes are on me, staring with wonder and the occasional dropped jaw. Tribesmen come running to watch, and there are excited exclamations from the boys of the tribe. That worries me — I’m not getting the vibe that this is a tribe that’s used to women, and now I seriously doubt that Cora is really here.

It’s a village of huts arranged in circles around the totem pole and common table. There’s a crackling fire with steaming pots hanging over it, a giant pile of firewood, and pottery kilns with drying pots stacked outside them.

And right next to the totem pole there’s a big cage with a live dragon inside it.

“As you can see, we have made quite a catch,” the Ceremat shaman says to me, his tall headdress an obvious sign of his position. “But perhaps you already know this agent of Darkness?” There’s a slyness in his voice that tells me he already knows the truth.

“I know him,” I admit, my heart suddenly racing. That’s Praxigor in the cage, his blue scales still badly cracked. He’s sitting down with his back to the fire and to us. “He’s not as dark as you think.”

“You spent some time with him,” the shaman goes on. “A long time, apparently. Perhaps you’ve become an agent of Darkness yourself?”

“We must study our enemies,” I tell him coldly, “the better to understand them. I am Shaman Astrid of the Borok tribe. What is your name, Shaman?”

“I am Shaman Dert’az. You admit that this is an enemy, then?”

“Not anymore,” I tell him. “Perhaps he was, once. But as you note, I spent time with him. Do you think that an agent of Darkness remains an enemy after being around a shaman for days? You’re plainly an experienced shaman, Dert’az, and you would certainly need less time than I needed to turn the dragon into a friend. I have only been a shaman for a few moons, after all. Perhaps I needed longer. And yet, the result is the same. I shall say no more about it here, so that the secrets that only you and I know will remain secret.” I gesture with my eyes to the crowd around us. I’m completely improvising this, not even sure what I’m trying to accomplish. I just feel that I should get this shaman on my side.

The other cavemen gather around us, listening. Mostly because I’m a woman, I think. Because now I’m sure that Cora isn’t here and probably never was. From the whispers and mumbled comments around me, I’m sure none of these guys have ever heard a woman’s voice or seen a woman at all. They’re so astonished, they hang on my every word.

“Indeed we shamans have our ways and secrets,” Dert’az agrees. “But we also have our duties. Our first duty is always the destruction of the Darkness and all its agents, be they ever so friendly.”

I nod regally. “Naturally. And we shall determine the best way to?—”

“Don’t believe a word she says,” someone yells from the crowd. “She loves the dragon! Indeed she has Mated with him!”