Page 4 of Caveman Alien’s Terror (Caveman Aliens #25)

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- Astrid -

I could leave through the gates, and the guards would simply open them for me. Being a shaman comes with some privileges. But if I do that, the guards will make sure that Korr’ax is alerted. And that wouldn’t be good for my plans. So I have to sneak out of the village.

The spot where the wooden palisade meets the Mount is the weak point in the wall. It’s difficult to shape the wall exactly after the contour of the rock, and keeping the crack smaller than a few inches doesn’t make much sense anyway. The walls are there to keep large creatures out, not to keep small women in . Say, like a newly appointed shaman apprentice with a depression problem.

“Nobody thought of that, ” I mutter to Luna as I push my pack through the opening first. “After this, they will think of nothing else. After you, milady.”

Luna elegantly jumps through the opening without touching the sides, and lands silently on the other side.

Steadying myself on the red rock, I slide first one leg, then the other through the opening. It’s a close fit, but if my hips go through, then I know it’s wide enough.

And it is. Landing softly on the ground right outside the wall, I pick up my pack and pull my spear through the opening in the wall. I check on the dragon dagger, carefully hidden but easy to get hold of.

Then I stand there and listen.

The jungle is manically alive, even at night. There’s a constant rustle from the undergrowth, bushes move for no good reason, saplings sway, and the shadows keep shifting. At night, the sense of stepping into a lion’s cage is even worse than in the daytime. And I can’t ignore that the cavemen really fear the jungle at night and try not to leave the village in the dark.

“But we’re shadows, too,” I tell Luna as I walk into the deadliness. “They should all fear us more.”

As a way to motivate myself, it’s not that effective. But it’s all I have, apart from the urge to do this in the first place.

“She’s almost certainly dead,” I mumble, but I’ve been telling myself that for years and it never works. I owe Cora to at least look for her for real. I’ve done it before, back in the tunnel days, but I never had the nerve or the means to venture far from the other girls. I worried about how they would survive without me, so I didn’t take chances that could kill me.

This time, all the girls will be fine even if I never return. I have a weapon, I have experience with the jungle, I have a good place to bring her when I find her. And I finally have some idea where to look for her.

I hear sap dripping onto my hat, but Alba’s fireman’s helmet concept works well and none of it seeps through the mesh.

Luna keeps up, sometimes behind me and sometimes in front. She’s not too bothered by all the life around us, but of course she was born to live in this jungle.

“I hope you’ll stay with me,” I tell her softly. “You make me feel braver.” There’s no reason for that, of course. I don’t know how she’ll react if we get attacked. If she has any sense at all, she’ll run at the first sign of trouble. Or even turn on me and join the attacker.

Old Melr’ax never brought his stevik into the jungle, just kept it on his platform in the Foundling village and brought it to ceremonies. It would be newly fed, he says, in order to be as docile as these things can be. He would drape the creature over his shoulders in order to display his mastery over the jungle wildlife and instill awe in his tribesmen.

“Would you enjoy being worn like that?” I ask Luna. “I get a feeling you’d love it. Being on top of everything, carried around, surveying your subjects like a queen.”

We go on for a good while, making a wide arc around the village. The terrain is mostly flat, but the giant trees and the dense bushes force us to take a meandering route. The moon Yrf hangs in the sky like a thin, blue sliver, but I can rarely spot it through the treetops. It’s the only way I have to navigate through the jungle, and so far I seem to be on the right track.

“We’ll find the salen tree,” I tell Luna, keeping my voice to a whisper. “Because it’s a good landmark. Not for any other reason. You’re probably thinking that I’m looking for that blue dude. Okay, I am. But just because it would be cool if he had a spaceship.”

I know I’m breaking the caveman rule about not talking in the jungle, but it keeps me thinking about other things than what may lurk around the next tree. And the cavemen have deep, bassy voices that travel well, while my airy, squeaky voice can’t possibly be heard over the general hiss of this wilderness.

We walk for hours until the jungle starts to get brighter as the sun rises.

But the light doesn’t help me relax. Instead a strange fear is growing in my mind. Not just the fear that I always have of the jungle, but a paralyzing fear of something specific about to happen. Except I don’t know what that thing would be.

Luna suddenly stops, nearly tripping me up.

“What is it?” I squeeze the spear and look around anxiously.

She lowers her head and growls, sounding more cute than dangerous. But she’s not playing.

“What are you hearing? Or smelling?” My mouth feels stiff and I have trouble forming the words.

“ I think it may be me,” says a deep voice into my ear.

I squeal and jerk to spin around, nearly dropping my spear.

But there’s nobody there.

“ Behind you,” the voice comes again, this time in the other ear.

I spin around again, once more finding an empty spot. “Stop it!”

“ But it’s fun,” the voice chuckles coldly.

I stand still. “Who are you?” But I think I know. He’s speaking English.

“I like your behind, although the garment should be tighter.”

I calmly turn around. And there he is, eight feet tall and so blue he practically shines in the night, as if he’s standing in a blue spotlight in a dark room.

I want to say something sarcastic, but I’m partly paralyzed from fear and awe. My hand drops to where I can feel the hardness of the dagger in its hiding place.

“Don’t bother speaking,” the supernaturally beautiful alien says, a thin smirk on his face. “You wanted to assure me how submissive you are to me, and how you will obey my tiniest whim, yes? It’s fine. They all do that.”

“Actually,” I rasp, regaining control of my mouth, “I wanted to ask you to not bother me.”

Black and silver eyebrows arch in a heartbreakingly attractive motion. “Did you, now? And yet, you really don’t want me to leave.”

My heart is beating like crazy. I feel like a small, brown mouse being toyed with by a cat, where they both know it will end with the mouse dead. “I do want it.”

“Ah. Then goodbye.” He pulls away from me, into the darkness.

“No!” I yell hoarsely, suddenly completely unable to bear the thought of him leaving. “Stay!”

“Is that any way to talk to a superior being?” he asks with such menace that I whimper.

“Sorry! I mean, please. Please stay.” I’m not sure what’s going on here. My mind is a chaos of panic that he’ll leave and terror that he won’t.

He sighs theatrically. “I suppose that’s the best I can expect from a woman dressed in rags. Do you remember what I said last time?”

“Yes,” I wheeze, scared of offending him. “You said to be careful in the jungle.”

“And are you being careful? You’re here alone, I notice.”

“I have… her,” I manage and point behind me at Luna.

“You have nothing,” the apparition says. “Yes, that’s what I expected.”

I half turn to check. But Luna is gone. Smart girl.

The apparition stifles a yawn with one hand. “Did you enjoy the fruit I gave you?”

I don’t understand the way he speaks. There’s warmth in the words, but there’s also a menace that confuses me and adds to the fear.

“Yes,” I answer truthfully. “It was delicious. Thank you.”

“Ah! Now you’re remembering your manners. Did you bring payment for me?”

“I don’t have anything,” I tell him, my voice still shaking. “I don’t have any money.”

He frowns. “Money? The only payment I will accept is gold. One large nugget of gold for one delicious fruit. When can I expect it?”

Gold? “I don’t have any gold. I’ve never seen gold anywhere in the jungle.”

“No?” he snarls, eyes shooting sparks from high above me. “Then perhaps you should look for it.”

The breath catches in my throat. I don’t want him to get mad. I ache to step back from him, but I can’t. “I will. I will look for gold. What is your name?”

He’s an expert frowner. “You don’t know? Surely my name is known to all the primitives in these desolate woods.”

“I’m sure it is,” I try to placate him. “But I’ve only been here for a short while.”

“Praxigor!” he roars, so the name echoes from far around us. “That’s my name. Now do you know me?”

“I… I’m new to Xren,” I try again. “But I see that you must be very mighty. I am Astrid.”

“Nobody cares what other primitives call you, female. Perhaps I shall call you something else. Let’s see. Browncoat?” He reaches out and pinches the fabric of my dress. “Shorty? Curly?” One big, blue hand strokes my hair and tugs at one ear. “Lugs? Or just Crazy? Because you really shouldn’t be out here on your own, talking to me.”

The liberties he’s taking ignite a spark in me, too close to my center to accept without a fight. “How about you call me nothing at all?” I sneer. “And how about taking your hands off me?”

His hand slides down my cheek, strokes down my shoulder and the side of my chest. “Again you speak as if you wish to die here and now.”

I clench the spear and tense up. I can probably pierce his chest from here. “Do what you think you must, Bluescale.” Yep, a little bit of anger absolutely works to push away some of the strange fear he instills in me. As well as the totally unwanted arousal from having the attention of a being this outrageously powerful and male. Something primal inside me is kicking and screaming at me to just strip off, put my butt in the air, and have his babies already.

He laughs, mirthlessly and coldly. Then his eyes sparkle and his hand shoots out as fast as lightning, grabbing my throat. “I wasn’t going to do this, but no one can be disrespectful to Praxigor and expect to live.”

I gasp for air and kick and flail, but his grip is like a vise. He’s too close for me to use the spear on him. I start to see black spots, and I know I’m about to die. My fingers claw at the hidden dagger. That’s my last hope?—

There’s a terrible screech and something bright green is suddenly clinging to Praxigor’s face. He lets go of my throat to fight the attacker.

I grab my spear with both hands and push the tip a quarter inch into the alien’s blue throat, not being too gentle.

Praxigor is finally able to rip Luna off his face. Still screeching and sprattling, she hangs from his hand while he curls the other up into a fist.

“Let her go, or I will fucking kill you!” I wheeze, pushing on the spear for emphasis.

Praxigor looks at me with his sparkling eyes, amused surprise on his face. “You must be joking!”

“Let her go!” I demand.

He chuckles and drops the stevik to the ground. “Oh, this will be hard for you to get out of, Crazy. You can’t actually kill me with that.”

He may be right. I can either ram the spear further into his throat and see if he’s right, or let him go and hope he won’t kill me . The first option is probably the right one. But I don’t have it in me to just execute someone. And if it doesn’t work, a line has been crossed that can’t be uncrossed.

“It was a fair fight,” I tell him, so tense I’m shaking. “You didn’t lose, Praxigor. It’s a draw. Let’s be friends from now on.”

His eyes go narrow. “Friends? You wish to be friends with a dragon? Do you know nothing? ”

With some mental effort, I meet his gaze. “Everyone needs friends on this planet.”

He sighs. “Dragons don’t have friends, Curly. Servants, yes. Lackeys, yes. Slaves, sometimes. Collaborators, rarely. Lovers, very briefly. Enemies and rivals and nemeses, many and always.”

“Then you’ll be the first,” I croak as the fear rises in me. “All the other dragons will be confused and envious.”

He chuckles. “You are crazy, as I thought. But you’re an entertaining form of crazy. Very well, little woman. We are now friends.”

I take the spear off his throat, but I keep it pointing at him. “Thank you.”

In one lazy move so fast I can’t follow it he grabs the spear and yanks it out of my hands. “Let me see this weapon that you keep pointing at your new friend.” He runs one blue finger along the spearhead and shows it to me.

It’s a drop of liquid gold.

“Ichor,” he says smoothly with a voice as smooth as steel. “You have drawn my ichor. That’s sacrilege, Crazy.”

My anger has evaporated and is replaced by the old terror. I have to act while I’m still in control of myself.

I spin around and bolt into the bushes.

Strongly suspecting it’s hopeless, I sprint through the undergrowth, not caring that it whips around my ankles. My fight-or-flight response has exhausted the first option and is now betting everything on the second.

I pass by rocks and trees and bushes, zigzagging to avoid the biggest obstacles. It’s not the first time I’ve run in the jungle, but I’d forgotten how futile it is when I’m not big enough to jump every rock or crash through every tree trunk, the way the dinos can. It takes a while to get anywhere.

Praxigor lets me run for a minute or so.

Then I see a blue flash and run straight into him.

“ Oof!” The impact nearly knocks the wind out of me.

He grabs my upper arm and gives me a warm smile. “I didn’t give you permission to go. Are we not friends after all?”

“We are!” I insist, willing to say anything to stay alive.

“Ah. You simply wanted to go on ahead and clear the way for me?”

I have to be honest, because the way his eyes pierce me, I think he knows the true answer. “I wanted to escape from you because I think you’re angry about the ichor.”

“I am,” Praxigor says smoothly. “Would you not be angry if someone drew your blood? Or does only water flow in your veins?”

“You almost killed me,” I argue, sensing this could still end badly for me. “I was scared and I had to save my life! I didn’t mean to break the skin.”

“You needed to be punished,” he informs me. “I was just going to release you… yes? What do you want?” He looks past me.

There are two dinosaurs behind us, both a bright violet. They’re each the size of a pickup truck set on its side, all muscle, claws, fangs and yellow, lifeless eyes that stare at us. I know them as some of the worst predators in the jungle.

“Raptors!” I exclaim. “Run!”

But Praxigor doesn’t let me go. Instead he takes a casual step towards the raptors. “We’re busy here. Either attack or leave. Or is this what you came to do? Just staring and gaping?”

I’ve never seen anyone so calm in the face of two raptors with green slime dripping from their hundreds of triangular teeth. I find myself trying to get behind Praxigor so that he’s between me and them. To my surprise, he lets me do it, instead of offering me to them.

I’m even more astonished when both monsters take a fumbling step backwards, as if losing their nerve.

“Well?” Praxigor snaps and walks towards them. “It appears you're here just to gawp. I should tell you that I’ve made quite enough friends today, and so far it’s only brought me trouble.”

Both raptors decide to flee. In their haste, they crash into each other before they bounce away through the jungle.

“Such indecisive things,” Praxigor sighs and lets go of me. “One moment they look like they will provide us with some entertainment, and the next they’re running away.”

“You scare them, too,” I tell him, not daring to be relieved. “We act in strange ways when we’re scared, doing things we otherwise wouldn’t. Like I did.”

He points my spear at my face, one inch from the tip of my nose. “Perhaps this once I will disregard your disrespectful acts. Although the ichor you took must be paid for, as well as the fruit.” The tip of the spear rotates in a circle in front of my face.

I carefully grab the shaft of the spear. “I’ll do my best. I will try to find the gold you want.”

He lets go of the other end, and the weapon clatters to the ground. “You will try? That doesn’t sound convincing.”

“I mean, I will find some.” I look around for Luna. She’s still behind the rock, scowling at the alien. The fin on her back has sprouted three dangerous-looking spikes.

“See that you do. I will soon check on your progress. And there better be some.” He seems to lose interest in me and starts drawing away.

“Praxigor!”

He’s half hidden behind a tree. “What is it now?”

“Forgive an ignorant alien woman, but you said you’re a dragon?”

He smiles. “Ah! That’s the correct tone to use. Perhaps you want to kneel, as well? No? All right, I’m feeling magnanimous. Yes, I said I’m a dragon. Surely you must have realized that before now?”

“I suspected,” I admit, “but I didn’t know. If I may ask, where do you come from?”

He touches his face and looks at the fingers. “Your monster tried to scratch me. Did it draw ichor, as well?”

I peer up at his incomprehensibly beautiful face, then avert my eyes. “I see no injury there.”

“I’m intolerably weak in this shape!” he growls as he touches his throat. “Even plain steel may pierce me! Wielded by a small woman! The humiliation is unbearable!”

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “But I was fearing for my life.”