Page 38 of Of Steel and Scale

“Oh, something to look forward to, for sure.”

“It’s not necessary for you to accompany me there. Once we uncover what has happened to the scouts, you can head back.”

“What? And miss the only chance I might ever have to get up close and personal to a drakkon? No way.”

I smiled and glanced at Damon. His undershirt clung to his torso, emphasizing the muscular planes underneath, but the man looked decidedly unfazed by the heat. Which wasn’t to say he didn’t look hot—he did. Totally, utterly, deliciously so.

Thankfully, he was studying the ragged carpet of moss that covered the nearest wall rather than me, so missed my momentary slip into wanting.

Or so I thought until he looked at me. The faintest hint of knowing tugged at his lips, and his eyes were bright with awareness.

All he said, however, was, “None of the tubes within Zephrine have this sort of biodiversity.”

“Our earth mages believe the combination of flowing water and heat has created ideal growing conditions.” I took a long drink, though it didn’t do a lot to ease the thirst—physical or sexual. “At one point I think they were investigating the possibility of developing a greenhouse system here, but were thwarted by the impossibility of getting light this deep into the mountain.”

“It would indeed be a massive feat of engineering.” He accepted the water bottle I offered him with a nod of thanks. “How far away is the aerie from here?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Another half hour, perhaps, but the blue vein will spin us away from it.”

“But the drakkons will still be there?”

“They’ve nowhere else to go right now. Not until Gria can fly again.”

“I’m really looking forward to seeing the little one,” Kele said. “You don’t often see drakklings these days.”

“Given how many mature drakkons we’ve killed over the centuries,” Damon said, “it’s a wonder they’re not walking the edge of extinction.”

“They were at one point,” Kele said. “But according to our resident expert here, their numbers have steadily risen over the last few centuries.”

Damon offered the water bottle to Kele, then glanced at me, his eyebrows raised. “And here I was thinking you were two years younger than me.”

I rolled my eyes. “It was once the duty of all archivists to record drakkon numbers. Esan’s still do, though it’s a task made harder by the fact they no longer fly over Esan or use the aerie. I generally head out on the annual pilgrimage with them, just to ensure nothing untoward happens.”

“Untoward being code for them becoming lunch?”

I wrinkled my nose. “We’re more a snack. Not much meat on human bones to satisfy hunger, from what I’ve been told.”

Kele looked at me, eyes a little wider. “Seriously? The queen told you that?”

“No, it was a comment made in passing by a young red I healed some time ago. She was debating the merits of eating humans with me.”

“While you repaired her?” Kele looked horrified. “That’s kinda ungrateful, is it not?”

“I managed to convince her bovine and capras were on the whole a far more worthwhile meal than us.”

My voice was dry, and she shook her head. “Seriously? You’re insane.”

I laughed and stripped off my jacket. My undershirt, like Damon’s, clung to my skin. Unlike his, mine just emphasized my overall lean flatness rather than lovely planes of muscle.

Damon’s gaze did a slow tour down my length and came up... well, amused. I had no idea why, because he’d seen me naked a number of times now and was well aware of my lack of womanly curves. I glanced down to check there wasn’t something strange hanging off me—a random lichen or crater crawler, perhaps—and then mentally shrugged and bent to tie my jacket onto one of my packs.

“Does that mean the reds still have aeries in these mountains, even if Esan’s has been abandoned?” he asked, tone holding none of the amusement I could see. Feel.

“There’re a couple of smaller ones deeper in the wildlands they use, but most now roost in the Red Ochre Mountains. They still hunt here, though.” I slung the pack over a shoulder. “This way.”

I moved out, following the bank of the small stream that had carved out a deep channel in the lava tube’s floor. Greenery flourished either side of it, and crawlers darted for the safety of the water, their eye stalks shrinking back to their crusted bodies until we’d passed.

The slope gradually increased, and chunks of stone littered the ground, victims of the tremors that continued to shake this area.

---