Page 61 of Fire in Stone

The warning came from the third woman. She was tall, taller than the other two, and she wielded a short, wide sword in each of her hands.

“Hide!”

At her warning, the first two women grabbed me under my arms, easily hauling me behind the black, glossy rocks that were scattered all over the area as far as I could see. Both women squeezed between several giant boulders, hiding me with them. The third woman joined us shortly.

“Sit still,” she ordered, her dark face almost blending with the rocks around us. “Not a word.” She placed a finger to her full, shapely lips.

Not that I could say a word or move a muscle even if I tried. I felt like my body had been tossed with rocks in a cement mixer. Every bone ached, every muscle was in agony. My head hurt, my throat was rough and dry. And I kept shaking from cold, despite the best efforts of the freckled woman to warm me up. My teeth chattering was the only noise I was able to make.

Without saying a word, Zenada splayed her hands on my legs. Warmth filtered from her palms, melting the numbing sensation from my muscles. I leaned against a rock a bit more comfortably as my shaking was subdued.

I didn’t know how much time had passed with us hiding in the rocks. But eventually the tall woman said, “They’re gone.”

The other two audibly exhaled in relief.

“You’ll come with me.” The tall woman slid one of her swords into the sheath on her back, then hauled me up with her arm around my middle. “There may be more dragons in the area,” she warned the other two women. “We need to hurry.”

“There’re always more, Isar,” Zenada muttered under her breath, climbing to her feet.

“May they all burn in their own flames.” The words of the freckled women sounded very much like a curse.

She and Zenada retrieved their yokes—the curved, narrow boards, carved with hooks on both ends. Propping those on their shoulders, they hung a bucket of water on each end, then headed up the path, balancing the buckets on the yokes on their shoulders.

“I-I can’t leave,” I protested. Awareness had slowly trickled back to me, allowing me to think. “Elex must be here somewhere.”

Isar cringed. “Who’s Elex?”

“He’s my…” Who was Elex to me? There was no definition that fit what we were. “My friend.”

“A dragon?” Isar asked.

“Um…yes.”

“Ugh,” she grunted, adjusting her grip on me as she headed up the path after the others. The woman was strong. She basically carried me, while I barely moved my feet. “There is no dragon anywhere around here. If he was here before, he left. Was he the one who undressed you?” The expression of disgust deepened on her face with a flash of anger in her golden-brown eyes.

“Undressed me?” I glanced down at my body.

I was wearing my short denim skirt and my hoodie. The sweatshirt had a long gash in one sleeve and a few large tears on my chest and shoulders, displaying my tank top underneath and the deep scratches on my skin.

Compared to the women’s long robes and the many layers of skirts visible underneath as they walked, I must look almost naked to them. And abused.

“We were in the river…” I tried to explain. “Elex didn’t hurt me.”

“Men can be cruel and disgusting.” Isar shook her head under the lace trimmed hood. “But you’re safe now. I mean, youwillbe safe once we reach the walls of the Sanctuary.”

She kept nervously scanning our surroundings.

With a sudden swish of air, a shadow dropped from the sky. A man landed in our path, too close to Zenada, who was walking first. She gasped, staggering back, and fell on her backside. With a scream of anguish, she grabbed one of the buckets just in time. The other one fell, the water spilling over the rocks of the path, soaking into the dirt between them.

“Weyx! You bastard.” Isar lowered me to the nearest rock by the path. “Hide,” she hissed at me.

Unsure what was happening, I scurried behind the rock, crouching on all fours.

Isar rushed by the two other women to the front of our small group to face the man.

“Out of the way, dragon!” She held up both her blades in warning.

He smirked, kicking the empty bucket. “I see you got thirsty, dirty whores.”

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