He keeps carving his stone. “As I am now, I would not hurt you. I don’t think I will when I’m a full dragon, either. But I don’t know. The dragon is ruthless.”
I guess that’s the best I can expect. It’s not reassuring.
Our pursuers are getting closer, judging from the noises they make. The drums are really unsettling, and I think there are many of them. Still, the cavemen must be pretty desperate if they’re hunting him that way. A single kronk dinosaur attracted by the noises could kill dozens of tribesmen.
Damn it. Why did those stupid cavemen have to start hunting Praxigor this soon? I would have loved to spend more time with him in that valley, just him and me. And then I would find the right time to suggest something that I know he won’t like, but which might be our best bet. Now it may be too late. They’re catching up with us, and they have nothing good in mind.
“How will you trick them into fighting each other?” I ask, not sure if the dragon is taking this seriously enough. It’s not like he’s invulnerable — those ropes cut into his wrists and ankles, and the fall down the cliff cracked his scales so badly I don’t think they’re healing. His walk is not as easy as before. He seems heavier, his movements more sluggish. His eyes aren’t as luminous as they were. I think the lack of gold is really taking its toll on him. Which makes sense, if his need for it is as strong as my need for sleep and food and air combined.
“Oh, it’s easy,” he says. “I move faster than they can see. An insult whispered in an ear, a kick from behind, a pull of someone’s hair, a foot to stumble over... the possibilities are endless. It takes less than you think to make these slayers fight each other. Especially if they’re from different tribes, which I think these ones are. They won’t even know they’re under attack.”
“Won’t they know you’re there because they feel scared, the way I do?”
He bends a sapling out of his way. “For some reason, the slayers don’t always seem terrified when in my presence. Unless I give them a special reason to. Ah, this would be a good place to wait for them.”
It takes me a moment to see what he means. And I’m not sure I agree with him. This could be why the cavemen have been blindly driving us through the woods.
It’s a rift in the landscape, a sudden canyon a thousand feet deep but only fifty wide. It vanishes into the jungle on both sides, so it must be miles wide.
Keeping well away from the edge, I look down into it. But it only gets darker down there and I can’t see the bottom. “This could be the end of the road.”
“Not at all.” The dragon nods towards the other side.
I spot it, too. On the other edge, a hundred yards to the side from us, there’s one end of what looks a lot like a rope bridge. The jungle on this side obscures most of it. “Should we go over there?”
He shrugs. “Might as well.”
We make our way along the edge, and each step reveals another few feet of rope bridge until we’re at the nearest end of it. It’s quite a slack one, hanging down dangerously in the middle. It must be unpleasantly wobbly to walk on.
“It looks old,” I comment, trying to sound casual. Because I have no doubt we’ll be walking across that rickety old thing.
It’s three feet wide, and when it was new it was probably quite sturdy. The main ropes are as thick as my wrist. The bottom is made from eight of those thick ropes laid beside each other. Cross-ropes spaced regularly lead from them and up to the two ropes that are meant as handholds, giving the bridge a V-shaped cross-section. There’s no wood anywhere but the anchoring points. The rest is all ropework.
“I’mold,” Praxigor says. “That bridge is as fresh as morning dew by comparison.”
The noises from the hunters are getting ever louder, and I expect to spot them at any time. “We could cross it now, before they get here.”
Praxigor looks down on me. “You can cross it. I will remain here and get the cavemen to fight each other.”
Again he gives me a less than perfect impression. His face is drawn, making him look tired. By any other standard, he is still remarkably beautiful and powerful. But I’ve been around him for a good while now, and I can see the difference. “Praxigor, maybe we should just go across and vanish in the woods. We can cut the bridge and make sure they can’t follow.”
“Again you would have me leave my pursuers, the dragon slayers, unharmed,” he snarls. “You must be so worried I’d hurt them!”
“I’m not worried about them,” I tell him firmly. “I’m worried aboutyou. There are many of them, and they have long swords. Look at yourself, Praxigor! You’ve been bleeding from many wounds recently. Small predators have been able to draw your blood. Your scales are cracked. You’re not as indestructible as you think! There’s no dishonor in doing the smart thing and fight them at a time and place of your choosing.Theychose this place. They must have.”
He raises his chin in defiance. “The greater will be their despair and powerlessness when I defeat them here.”
He may be right. Hemaybe able to easily beat dozens of cavemen in a fight. But right now, if I were to bet, my money would be on the cavemen. Because they were made for this,and they’re not scared of dragons. And Praxigor isn’t completely wrong. I would much prefer there to not be a fight at all. Those guys could well be my friends.
The drumming behind us sounds like distant thunder, getting closer. I peer into the jungle. “They’ll be here at any moment. I notice you haven’t made them fight each other yet, the way you said you would.”
He snorts. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll just kill them in a straight fight.”
I don’t believe him. I suspect he doesn’t have much strength left. “I don’t think you’re well. Your eyes — the light has faded. Is it the lack of gold?”
He glares with eyes that have green specks in them. “You’re getting dangerously close to saying you think I’m weak.”
“I don’t think you’re weak, Praxigor! You’re the strongest male in the jungle. But there must be many cavemen coming.” I steel myself for the next part, which I’ve been thinking about for a while. This is not the right time for it, but there may not be another time. “What if you were to make friends with them? You haven’t hurt anyone. You’ve saved my life many times, and I’m the shaman of the Borok tribe. If I tell them to not kill you, they won’t. I don’t think those that are coming are from my tribe, but even so, they may know who I am.”