Page 15 of The Death King

Last time I’d come face-to-face with Khazmuda, I’d never been so scared. But now, I wanted to draw closer.

I moved down the hill, boots sliding in the sand, and when I reached the bottom, I fell onto my ass and rolled forward. The landing was soft because the sand was never in a solid state. I pushed myself to my feet and slowly came closer to the sleeping giant, the sound of its snores growing even louder, his powerful lungs opening and closing with the force of the wind.

I came closer to his face, seeing it tucked under one of its beautiful wings.

Now that I was there, I didn’t know what to do.

I looked over my shoulder to the hill of sand that blocked my view of the compound. Horns didn’t blare in alarm. It was quiet. It seemed like they didn’t know I was missing yet. Yet. I moved toward the flank of the dragon and looked upon its back, seeing the black saddle secured around its massive size. There were stirrups for the legs or handles for gripping. I saw no reins like the kind that were used for horses. So, how did the Death King direct the dragon where he wanted to go? Maybe he spoke to him? I seemed to be missing something.

I came closer, my face just inches from the scales that rose and fell with the heavy breaths. The scales had small grooves around each one, so I reached up and gripped one and then another. With the strength of my arms, I pulled myself up then dug my boots into the grooves on the top of another set of scales.

The dragon continued to slumber.

“Oh, thank the gods.”

I made the climb, moving as slowly and gently as possible, wanting to get into the saddle without disturbing the beast. It was a long climb, and the scales were so smooth, they were slippery to the touch. The cold air dabbed at the sweat on my forehead like a cool cloth. I continued to hoist myself up, higher and higher, until I finally made it to the leather saddle. It was a saddle for a single rider, but behind it was space for cargo, like a traveling pack. The dragon was too wide for my legs to sit on either side of his spine, and I realized that was why the stirrups were created and why the saddle was elevated from its back.

From my place, I could see the compound, see that it was quiet, the torches flickering in the night.

No one had heard me break that window.

I could return to the mainland without them even knowing I was gone…if I could get the dragon to cooperate.

But what the fuck did you say to a dragon? Would he even understand? How did the Death King communicate with him? Maybe he controlled him with magic. “Um, hello?”

The dragon continued to sleep.

I raised my voice louder this time. “I’m so sorry to wake you, but I was wondering if you could help me.”

The dragon took its final deep breath but then held it.

Now I knew he was awake.

The breath released, and then his breathing turned low and shallow. The sound of his snores disappeared. Now it was just quiet, the desert silent.

He shifted and moved, and I instinctively grabbed on to the handles so I wouldn’t tip over.

His head slowly rose into the black sky, jagged spikes all along the back of his neck. His eyes were dark like his rider’s, but they were illuminated in the dark. He slowly turned and arched his neck, turning to look at me upon his back.

I froze in place, just like I had as a little girl.

His large jaw parted, and his jagged teeth became noticeable, razor-sharp and threatening. Fiery breaths left his mouth and pushed my hair back, hot and humid like a summer breeze. He came closer, moving slowly, tipping his head slightly so he could lock his gaze on mine.

I didn’t breathe.

I was pretty sure my heart stopped too.

The standoff only lasted seconds, but it felt like minutes. His dark eyes were bright in the moonlight, staring me down with contempt. His breaths grew louder, accompanied by a low growl.

“I know I’m being super rude right now, but I really need a ride outta here.”

When he released a breath, it was heavier and so was the growl.

“Please.”

His teeth widened, and a distant light came from the back of his throat, a glimmer of a fire.

“Oh shit…”

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