Page 116 of Eldritch (The Eating Woods #2)

CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

MAEVYTH

“ W hy am I here again?” Brows pinched together, Corwin glanced up at the sky and back, while standing wedged between the priestess and Aleysia in a clearing where we had a much better view of the mountain’s summit.

Arms crossed, Aleysia shrugged. “I thought since you’re good with horses, you might be able to help Maevyth out.”

I’d have found her logic amusing, if my head hadn’t been locked in a state of panic right then.

“Horses? Yes.” His eyes trailed upward again, as if Raivox might swoop down at any moment. “The unnatural beast that follows you around? No. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Well, how about some helpful pointers,” Aleysia said. “That would be a start.”

“Hold on? Don’t spit into the wind? Ehhh …” He shook his head. “Try not to piss him off?”

With a groan, Aleysia rolled her eyes. “Well, if you’re not going to help then you may as well leave.”

“Isn’t she the mystical all-knowing woman of the mountains?” he asked, gesturing toward the priestess.

Erithanya huffed. “It’s as I already told Maevyth. I can show her how to use the glove. But I don’t know about riding the beast.” She waved a hand at me. “Call on your Corvugon.”

“Now?” Corwin stepped back, fingers toying with a feather he’d worn the night before and hadn’t bothered to remove. “Shouldn’t we prepare somehow? Perhaps have a goat ready in case he’s hungry?”

Sighing, I tipped my head back and cleared my throat, cheeks burning with humiliation. I whistled for Raivox, and when he didn’t appear right away, I glanced toward her. “Perhaps he’s opted to ignore me this time. He’s somewhat stubborn. Frustrating, really.”

“He’s also massive,” Aleysia added. “Perhaps you might give him a minute?”

Moments later, an immense winged shadow sliced through the clouds and Raivox let out a screech.

The priestess smiled, turning toward me. “They are stubborn but loyal.”

Raivox touched down on a thunderclap and shook his feathers, stretching them outward in either direction.

“My goodness, you never really get used to the size of him, do you?” Corwin let out a nervous chuckle, backing up a few steps.

Raivox croaked and sharpened his beak on the rock underfoot.

The priestess stepped closer to him “The glove connects the two of you. Soul to soul. Touch him.”

Impatiently, I strode up to him and reached out my hand, running my hands over his rough scales.

A fierce vibration thrummed across my palm, and I drew back with a frown.

I reached out again and as if our heartbeats were one, I felt a steady thud at the top of my hand, up my arm, into my chest. Raivox shivered but didn’t break our connection.

“Good. He senses you. Now climb onto him.”

I yanked my hand away and trailed my gaze up the length of his body. A wall of scales and feathers that must’ve reached fifteen meters in height. “Climb him?”

“How else do you imagine riding a Corvugon?”

That was the problem—I hadn’t gotten so far as to imagine myself riding him, let alone climbing onto his back. A dizzying wave of nausea gurgled in my chest at the thought of falling off.

With a swift grip, she seized my arm. “Do you want to find him or not?” She placed my gloved hand on Raivox again. “Climb onto him.”

Exhaling a breath, I curled my fingers into his scales, the rough texture gritty like sandpaper.

As if recognizing my intent, he lowered his head, waiting.

The claws clung to the scales, and I easily hauled myself up the length of his body until I reached the mantle—the flat stretch between his wings—where I settled myself.

“Find something to hang onto. Tightly.”

Through the mass of scales and feathers, I spied two small horns that curved back from his neck, as if designed intentionally, and leaned slightly forward to grip hold.

A strange vibration hummed across my palm, the veins of the glove glowing, and Raivox lurched a step, jerking me against his body.

My heart slammed into my ribs, pounding a rhythm of fear.

Not daring to look down, I closed my eyes, breathing through my nose.

The wind blew through my hair as I took a moment to calm myself.

“Now what?” I croaked.

“Now speak to him.”

“Speak to him? Is there a language I’m supposed to use?”

“He doesn’t speak in any language. He knows your thoughts. Speak to him with your mind.”

As foolish as it sounded, I nodded and shuttered my eyes. “Raivox? Take me to The Rotting Tree.”

A long, dragging scrape grated in my ear and I opened my eyes to see Raivox preening his feathers again.

“I don’t think the glove is working.” I peered down to where Erithanya stood beside Aleysia and Corwin, my stomach twisting at the height. “He doesn’t seem to understand what I’m saying.

“Try a different command!” she shouted back.

“A different command,” I muttered. “Okay. Stop preening .”

Raivox kicked his head to the side and slowly lowered the leg he’d been picking at.

“ Sharpen your beak on the stones .”

His head jerked forward, and just as he’d done when he first landed, he scraped his beak over the jagged rocks.

“So, it appears he does understand.” The priestess’s voice held a hint of amusement, and I turned to see her smiling up at me.

“ Take me to The Rotting Tree .”

A deep, guttural growl rumbled in his chest, and he let out a caw, but didn’t move.

“ Raivox, take me. To The. Rotting Tree. ” I articulated every word that time.

He hopped a step.

I slid across his back, scrambling to take hold of those horns again, and exhaled a shaky breath.

“What happened?” It was Aleysia who asked that time.

“I firmly believe he’s refusing to take me.”

The priestess shrugged. “Well, then. You have your answer. You can’t force a dragon to take you somewhere, after all. They are bigger.”

“And vicious,” Corwin added.

Teeth grinding in my head, I scowled back at his neck. “Zevander is in danger. I need to go to The Rotting Tree. Right now.”

Still the bull-headed beast refused to move!

“It seems Morsana chose a stubborn one for you.” The priestess’s chuckle grated on me. “How unfortunate. If it’s all the same to you, I’m going to return to the village now.”

I shot her a glare. “You’re not going to show me how to ride him?”

“It seems he’s not planning to take you anywhere.”

“Well, how do I get him to take me somewhere?”

“I’m not entirely certain. Morsana never gave me a Corvugon of my own.” Bitterness clung to her voice as she smiled back at me. “I only know from reading.”

I stared at the feathered neckline of my stubborn bird dragon and huffed.

“Listen to me. I know you don’t care for Zevander much, but I do. We need to return to his home ? —”

Raivox lurched forward and raised his wings.

With one flap, we surged upward, and I flattened my body against him, clutching the horns with white knuckles.

Nausea and dizziness waltzed through my senses, the wind barreling over the top of my head.

My thighs burned against his scales as I squeezed my knees into his body.

Higher he soared, until my cloak could no longer stave off the cold and my breaths arrived as thick white mist. I kept my eyes on his scales, clinging to him, and at last, he leveled.

I shuddered an exhale and mustered the courage to sit upright.

The air felt thicker, forcing itself into my throat, as it rushed past us.

The mountain’s summit stood ahead of us and below, daring myself to peer downward, I could only make out three small specks where they stood through the density of the clouds.

The distant sounds of their screaming and cheering failed to spur on a feeling of victory, they only incited a jealous longing to be back on the ground.

Vertigo spun through my head, the world tilting and I clenched my eyes, hoping for it to pass.

Raivox flapped his wings, his body angling slightly upward, forcing me to clutch tighter, and he landed with a sudden thud.

Face buried in his feathers, I trembled as I peeled myself away from where I’d buried my face in his feathers and found we’d landed on a jutting stretch of rock.

My knuckles ached when I finally unraveled them from his horns and straightened.

Raivox lowered his head as he had before, and I slid down from his neck, tumbling along his rough scales in an awkward ejection.

The rock slammed against my knees, sending a jolt of pain across my bones, when I smacked down against the surface.

On hands and knees, I breathed, calming the pounding of my heart, then pushed to my feet and glanced around.

A shallow cave ahead of us housed a wall of branches and bones, one of them a skull that stared unseeingly toward us.

“Where have you taken me?” I asked, peering out over the nauseating stretch of sky and mountains behind us.

A rough nudge of his beak sent me stumbling forward, toward that wall of piled bones and branches.

Scowling back at him, I edged toward it and stared up the tight weaving of what reminded me of a nest. “This is your home, isn’t it?”

He chuffed and ruffled his feathers as if he were excited to show me.

Taking hold of a piece of bone, I pulled myself up and stepped onto a bent branch. I reached again, pulling and stepping my way up the height of the wall, until at last, I reached the top of it. Nestled inside, sat two black-scaled eggs—exactly like the one from which Raivox had hatched.

Smiling, I looked back at him. “They’re yours.” I glanced around in search of another Corvugon that might’ve been flying about, but there was only Raivox. Perhaps they’d arrived the same way he had. “You’re a father.”

Again, he ruffled his feathers and flapped his wings, the pride beaming off him.

The smile on my face faded for the worry still writhing in the pit of my stomach. “Raivox, I need you to take me to that tree.”

He stretched his wings and flew upward, disappearing over the mountain.

Leaving me there, alone with his eggs.

“No,” I muttered, climbing back down the nest. “No, no, no.” When I reached the platform, I stalked toward its edge, wondering if I might be able to climb back down.

A dizzying height with no bottom visible from where I stood had me backing up again. “Raivox!” I called out, searching the sky for him. “Raivox come back!”

Seconds ticked off.

Minutes.

I summoned the whistling glyph to mind but dryness in my throat dulled the usually sharp sound.

Dread swelled in my chest after nearly an hour must’ve passed and he still hadn’t returned.

“Raivox!” I called out again, my voice hoarse and scratchy.

The dread sharpened and coiled into anger that cut through me like blades. All I could think about was Zevander. I needed to find him.

“Raivox!” I screamed and a growl answered, but not one I’d heard before.

Slowly turning around, I looked up the length of the nest wall to find an enormous lizard, at least four times my size, sitting on the edge above.

Once again, my muscles locked into a shudder, breath waning in my lungs.

With its clawed, scaly fingers, it popped one of the eggs into its cheek, creating a lopsided bulge in its face.

“Oh, no. No, you don’t.” I called the bone glyph to mind and as it unraveled onto the ground, only one of the lizard’s eyes shifted, while the other remained trained on me, as if it were sizing me up to fit in the other side of its cheek.

I could’ve.

Easily.

But not without a fight.

I drew back the whip and the lizard flinched but didn’t scamper away.

A deep growl curled in its throat, rattling my nerves, and I hurled the whip with a quick strike against its flank.

A gash bloomed across its scaly body and the lizard spat the egg out onto the ground.

It scuttled down the nest wall toward it and I lashed the whip again, striking it on the nose that time.

The lizard let out a roar and charged toward me.

A blast of Aeryz sent it flying backward but not before it quickly scrambled to its clawed feet.

As I threw my arm back to strike again, something unfurled toward me and looped around my neck with such force, I dropped the bone whip.

The lizard’s tongue stretched between us, from my throat to its opened mouth and the pressure had me clawing at the bands.

A rough yank took me closer to its mouth, but I dug my heels into the ground and leaned back, tightening its whip-like tongue around my throat.

Stars exploded across my eyes and panic pounded through my chest. Gripping tight to its tongue, I summoned the death glyph.

In seconds, flesh and scales crumbled to dust, and the moment its tongue fell away, I stumbled backward, desperate to catch myself.

It was too late, though.

I tumbled over the edge of the mountain.