Page 53 of Of Steel and Scale

A good point, given the stash we’d just uncovered. I returned my attention to the cavern. “Kaia isn’t sensing anything.”

“Good.” He rose. “Let’s go investigate those boxes.”

I nodded and padded out after him.

We were five steps into the cavern when I heard the voices.

Damon grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the tunnel. I knelt in the deeper shadows, keeping close to the wall to present a less noticeable shadow, one hand clenched against the fire burning at my fingertips and the other on my sword’s hilt. Damon knelt beside me, pulled his knife free from its sheath, and sliced open a fingertip. He rapidly spelled, his singsong words so soft I could barely hear them despite our closeness. As the blood dripped onto the ground, shadows roiled up from it, deepening and thickening as the spell reached its peak. He closed it off with a sharp motion, but this time there was no explosion.

“The veil will prevent them seeing us,” he murmured, his breath a sweet caress across my ear. “But do not move, as the spell will ripple in response, and that might attract attention.”

I nodded, my gaze on the still empty cavern as the voices grew closer. I had no idea what they were saying, because it wasn’t any language I’d heard before. While there was a common language shared by Arleeon and all her trading partners, this was something else altogether.

There were at least ten in the group, which normally wouldn’t present much of a problem given there were two of us and I could take out at least half of them with fire—presuming, of course, their armor wasn’t fireproofed. But killing or capturing these men would only warn their commanders that we knew of their existence, and both instinct and common sense said that wasn’t a good idea. Their unawareness gave us the chance to learn more about them and prepare, whereas reacting now could lead to an immediate and full-scale attack on Esan and maybe even Arleeon itself.

We needed time.

Time we didn’t have, instinct whispered yet again.

The voices stopped with an abruptness that made my skin crawl. I didn’t move, barely dared to breathe, as tension locked my body and heat pressed harder against my fingertips.

Then, on the soft stirring breeze, came the sound of footsteps. Two men appeared, each holding what looked to be narrow tubes of very thin metal. A small pouch was connected to the base of the tubes, and inside this, visible thanks to the sheerness of the metal, was some sort of dark liquid.

They were both wearing the chain armor Kaia had shown me, but only one had a helmet on. The other had it lashed to his waist belt, revealing brown features with a flat wide nose, high cheekbones, and a mouth that was a thin dark slash. His hair was short, spiky, and a rather shocking green.

Definitely not a race we’d ever traded with.

They scanned the cavern carefully, their weapons raised and their fingers resting on what I presumed was the release button. The helmetless man’s gaze paused at the entrance of our tube for several incredibly long seconds before moving on again.

The first man growled something in that guttural language we’d heard earlier, and then two of them took up sentry positions, one remaining near their tunnel, and one walking across to the right side of ours.

He looked in briefly, his gaze skittering across the deeper shadows that surrounded us, then grunted and turned around, the tube still held at the ready. But this close, I could smell the stuff, and it very much reminded me of that faintly sweet but musty scent evident whenever I entered the cages holding our gray hawks.Thatsuggested it was a liquefied form of their gilded birds’ shit. After what it had done to the boat, I hated to think what it would do to human flesh....

In a two-by-two formation, six more armor-clad men moved into the cavern, each pair carrying a large box. The first pair flipped the concealment blanket back, then placed their box on top of the nearest. The other two pairs followed suit, then, after pulling the blanket back down, they all retreated. Conversation faded as they moved deeper into the other tunnel.

We didn’t move, not for another five minutes. Then, warily, Damon dismissed his shadow spell and rose, offering me a hand. I placed my fingers in his and allowed him to pull me upright, even if it wasn’t really necessary.

Except it somehow was, because there was a part of me that hungered for his touch.Anytouch, however brief. A part whose demands had only increased after our last kiss. We just needed time... but instinct was whispering that if I wanted this man in my bed, I had best get him there soon, before the world blew apart around us.

I pulled free from his grip and flexed my fingers. Mom’s seeress abilities had never really been a functioning part of mine—at least to date—so instinct’s warnings were probably based on nothing more than fear.

Probably.

I ignored the tension that rippled through me, then dropped the pack looped over my shoulder onto the ground and drew my sword, edging warily to the cavern’s entrance. There was no response to our movement, and the tunnel opposite remained empty of any indication it was occupied.

I motioned to the boxes. “You check them out; I’ll head up the tunnel and investigate.”

“How much farther on is the Beak?”

“A couple of hundred yards, if that. Kaia’s still with me, so if there’s any sort of magic, she’ll warn me.”

Hope is. Am bored.

I grinned and repeated her comment to Damon. His eyebrows rose. “I never really gave much credit to drakkons being so intelligent, let alone them having so many human emotions.”

Same with us to them, Kaia muttered.

A laugh bubbled up my throat but thankfully didn’t make it past my lips.

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