Page 55 of Caveman Alien's Terror

The sounds of the slayers is closer now, but they’re not moving fast.

Getting up, I grab her dress from the bush where it’s hanging. Its front is still ripped, and I don’t want her to walk around like that, where other males might see parts of her chest. “Can you fix this?”

“I could if I had a thread and needle,” Astrid says, slowly getting up.

I hold up one of my claws, pointy and sharp. “Is this needle good enough?”

She takes the dress and tightens a part of it. “Try to make two holes. One here and one here.”

Without much effort I pierce two holes in the smelly leather. “And now?”

“Now I just need a thread. Wait.” She saunters over to a bush, and I greatly enjoy watching the fluid movement of her rear. She returns with a thin, green twig. “This will work for a while.”

She puts the still moist dress on and arranges the twig with the two holes so it keeps the loose flap from moving too much. “There.” She stiffens and stares into the jungle. “What’s that?”

The sounds from the hunt come steadily closer — the clacking of wood on wood, booming of drums, the voices, the faint hum of hundreds of feet.

“The tribes are hunting,” I tell her. “All their warriors working together against their common enemy: a single dragon.”

She frowns. “They’ve moved fast, then. Nobody was talking about hunting dragons before you gave me that salen fruit.”

“No good deed goes unpunished,” I mutter as I take Astrid’s hand and lead her along, away from those who are trying to flush me out of the jungle. “Or so they say. I wouldn’t know. Good deeds aren’t really my thing.” I let go of her and take out the stone I’m carving, feeling a strong urge to finish it. I feel weaker and weaker. I need something to make me strong.

We walk on at a slow pace. Astrid easily keeps up. I’m not worried about myself — I can always trick my way out of the slayer’s traps. It’s barely a nuisance. But I suspect Astrid’s tribe is among those driving us through the woods. And I don’t want her to leave me.

“I’mthe one who leaves,” I tell myself. “I’mnotthe one who’s left. Not again.”

“Where are we going?” Astrid asks after a while.

“We’re going to let them catch up with us,” I invent on the spot. “I’ll attack them and teach them that hunting for Praxigor is a hopeless task that can only bring them death. I have seen them try to fight, Astrid. They have all kinds of silly rules that hamper them.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to just get away from them?”

I don’t like that question. “Afraid I’ll hurt your friends?”

“I’m just thinking that they don’t know where you are. They’re just trying to flush you out. If they simply never see any trace of you, they’ll give up.”

I smile tightly. “I will do something more devious. I will make them attack each other. That will stop this silly hunt faster than anything else, and it might provide us with some entertainment.”

Astrid keeps her head down as we walk. “Praxigor, what’s your dragon form like?”

“It’s glorious,” I tell her truthfully. “I’m the very highest being in that form. It’s as different from this pitiful form as the real, golden Chalice of the Sun is from the crude stone replica I made.”

“Are you deadly and mean in your dragon form?”

It almost makes me laugh. “The words ‘deadly’ and ‘mean’ are too weak to describe my dragon form, Astrid. Your heart will freeze when you see me.”

We walk in silence for a while. I sense that Astrid is thinking deeply about something.

“If you suddenly found gold,” she finally asks, “would you hurt me? Kill me?”

18

- Astrid-

Praxigor thinks about it. “I don’t know. The dragon wants what it wants. It’s more determined than I am now, crueler, less caring. It doesn’t need to care about anything but gold.”

I bend aside a branch to pass it. “I thought maybe… I mean, since we’re friends and since we… well, you know the things we’ve done. And you know how I feel about you. I’ve told you.”

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