Page 48 of Caveman Alien's Terror

I gasp in horror. There’s a lightning-shaped wound zigzagging from one shoulder to halfway down his stomach. Yellow hairlines shoot off from it, glowing as if he’s been cracked open and the gold inside him is shining through. But that must be what a bad wound looks like on his species. “Praxigor! You’re really injured!”

He looks down on his chest. “It’s puzzling. I would only expect that kind of wound from the punch of another dragon, not from landing a little awkwardly after a fall. The scales have fractured.”

Wincing in empathy with how terrible that must feel, I realize that I don’t know what to do. “Can you… is it… bad?”

“It’s bad,” he rumbles calmly. “Not the injury itself, but the weakness that allows me to be injured like this by a mere pointy rock.”

“Because you don’t have gold.” I look up the steep hill we came down. I don’t know how far he fell, but it must have been more than thirty feet. The landing would have killed me if he hadn’t held me tight. And I wonder if it didn’t come close to killinghim.

“It’s a damnable affliction,” he seethes and wipes ichor off on a boulder. “The worst state for a dragon to be in.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell him sincerely. “You were so concerned with keeping me safe that you got badly injured in the fall.”

“That concern is arguably an even worse affliction. Now, let’s leave.”

The water from the waterfall cascades over shelves and boulders, creating wild rapids that churn away into the distance. I’m not sure we’re much better off than before, except now we’re not under constant threat of falling to our deaths. “Is there a way out of here?”

“There are three ways out,” he says. “One where the water goes out, which seems to be an underground river. One where we came in, but that’s high up there and I can’t climb up with you. And finally the opening where the water comes in.” He points up at the top of the waterfall. “Two possible exits.”

The hopelessness catches up with me. And I’m totally exhausted. “And both would kill me.” My voice cracks at the last word. Being naked and dripping with cold water isn’t helping things improve. And Praxigor is really badly injured.

“We don’t know that,” he rumbles. “But it is possible.”

“This is better than before,” I tell him, mustering some courage. “I can stay here while you get the rope.”

He takes my hand and squeezes it. “No.”

16

- Astrid-

I see what he means. “I guess it would be too dangerous for you to go to any of the tribes to ask for it. And you have to find gold.” I know what his main priority is, and it’s time I faced it.

“That’s not what I mean,” he says, frowning. “It’s simply that—” He spins around and quick as lightning grabs something dark from the ground.

Something that moves.

There’s a short, furious battle that ends with a greenish shape jumping off the dragon and bouncing over to me, hissing and growling as it turns its back to me as if to defend me.

“Luna!” I exclaim. “Where did you come from?” I grab her and lift her into my arms. She’s wet, but her unusual fur looks like it repels water like a raincoat. Still she’s warm in my arms, and seeing her cheers me up. Especially that she lets me lift her up.

“She didn’t come down with us,” Praxigor growls, rubbing his wrists. “I would know.”

“How did you get down here?” I ask the stevik. “Is there another way out?” I set her down so she can show us. Keeping an eye on the dragon, she trots a few feet away on the rock and looks back at me.

I glance up at Praxigor. “I guess we could follow and see where she’s going.”

He picks up a rock from the ground. “I guess we could.”

For a second I’m worried he’s going to throw it at Luna, but when he doesn’t I take a few steps to follow her. She trots on, past gravel and rocks and boulders, going along the bank of the underground rapids towards the waterfall. I have to speed up to not lose sight of her in the darkness.

She leads us on. There’s no path, just a mad scramble past slippery boulders, moss-grown bedrock, and patches of gravel and sand covered in inches of clear water. Each step is a gamble with my life, especially as we get higher up and the drop becomes deadly. I find myself crawling, because I can’t trust my bare feet to gain purchase on some of the slipperiest surfaces.

Then we’re behind the waterfall, seeing its white masses from behind. No talking is possible — even Praxigor’s voice wouldn’t be audible over this constant roar.

“I’ve rarely had a worse time,” he grumbles behind me. “Even fighting Baperion the Mean was more pleasant than this.”

Hmm. His voice carries better than I thought.

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