Page 31 of Caveman Alien's Terror

“Umm. Perhaps,” I concede diplomatically. “Or a food store. A granary, maybe. Or a temple. Some ancient civilizations kept gold in their temples.”

“Tarat’ex! Where is that shovel!” Praxigor bellows.

“But it might be something else,” I ponder. “I don’t think this was a caveman village. The buildings are too small. And they don’t usually have temples, at least not the ones I’ve seen or heard of. They also never build from stone, only wood.”

“Here, Chief.” Tarat’ex walks towards us while he shaves some wood off a crude wooden shovel. “It’s too small for me to use, but it might fit the female.”

Praxigor inspects the shovel. “Then make bigger ones for yourselves. I want everyone digging! No, wait.”

Tarat’ex snaps to something resembling attention. “Chief?”

“I may not need you three here anymore,” Praxigor drawls. “Instead, you will go to all the tribes in the jungle and ask them about the rumor of there being a woman in the Ceremat village.Ask them all where it is. Find out for sure, then return here. Do not go to that village without me!”

“Of course. It may take some time, Chief. The closest village is the Borok, and we can’t get there today. I also can’t show myself there.”

“Then one of the others can! There are three of you! Must I think of everything myself? Only return when you know where this mysterious woman might be found.”

“Yes, Chief.” Tarat’ex walks briskly away towards the others.

I’m happy to see the back of him. He and his outcast friends are some creepy guys, always staring at me.

“Can you use this?” Praxigor asks and hands me the shovel.

I take it and hold it with both hands. “It’s too heavy and too big for me.”

He frowns. “It’s only wood.”

I drop the sharp end to the ground and lean on the shaft. While crude, it’s a well-made shovel, and I’ve worked with heavier things. But I think it’s time for Praxigor to do more than yell commands.

“It’s heavy wood, freshly cut from a tree. It’s full of sap, which makes it heavy. I’m only a frail female from a feeble species, as you have seen. I think you have to use it.”

He stares emptily. “Me?”

I lean the shovel up against a tree, using both hands and fake groaning, exaggerating how heavy it is to me. “I can’t do it,” I pant. “Someone else has to. I’ll show you the dome.”

The dragon looks the way Tarat’ex went. “I suppose we can keep one of the lackeys to do the menial work.”

“Then it will take longer for the two others to find the Ceremat village,” I point out.

Praxigor lifts the shovel between two fingers and looks at it with distaste. “This is so far beneath me that the words to describe the shame of it don’t even exist.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” I chirp over my shoulder as I walk towards the dome. “And there may not be much digging needed.”

He growls deep in his throat as he follows me.

The dome is not really a dome, except for the very top. It’s a round, slightly tapering tower twenty feet tall, built from very carefully cut stones. It’s about ten feet in diameter and must have been an impressive sight when the village was still standing. I theorize that the builders would keep it polished to shine in the sun. Or maybe it was painted in vivid colors, the way ancient Roman statues on Earth were, despite being just bare marble today.

There’s no door in the tower, but the ground we stand on is clearly much higher now than when it was built. The jungle has produced many feet of dirt and compost since then, and most of the village is totally buried. The door is probably below us somewhere.

I find a likely place and point to the ground. “Here, please. Dig up against the stone so we can see if there’s an entrance.”

Praxigor’s eyes shoot hard flashes. “If you have me work like a slave only to find an empty room, I will be even less happy thanI am now. I don’t know what will happen then, because that is a level of unhappiness that I’ve never reached before.”

“There may be an empty room,” I admit. “We don’t know yet. But at least then we’ll know.”

He just growls as he rams the shovel into the dirt.

I squat and scrape at the dirt with a stick with great concentration, wanting to look as if I’m doing something, too.

---