Page 60 of Caveman Alien's Terror

“She wears much the same as that one,” Tarat’ex says and nods backwards, towards where we left Astrid. “Just rags. We only saw her from a distance, but they say she has gold. Of course the Ceremat men have no idea what that is, haha. But as theydescribe it, it looks like polished brass. That’s all we know, Chief.”

“It better be gold,” I sneer. “If not, I’ll kill them all.Andyou.”

He doesn’t flinch. “Of course, Chief. It’s gold, Chief. Believe me.”

Tarat’ex doesn’t recoil in fear, and that points to him being truthful about this.

“I’ll believe you when I see it,” I tell him.

The three outcasts are still keeping their distance to me. But they also seem to be more smug, less afraid than before.

It doesn’t take a dragon of my stature to realize that they’re hiding something, that they’re planning some kind of betrayal. But then, they always did, and it didn’t work out for them. If they think they can trick Praxigor the Devious, they will be surprised.

“What are you hoping to get out of this?” I ask. “The same as before?”

Tarat’ex gives me a sly look. “You did say you’d make us chiefs of our previous tribes, Chief. Once you get your gold. And now you will have it, as soon as we get to the village. We assume you still intend to follow through on that.”

“Of course,” I tell him. In truth, I had no intention to honor that deal. Nobody can expect a dragon to keep promises. But now I might. It could be fun to force tribes to accept these despicable criminals as their leaders. In my dragon form, all must obey or be destroyed!

Indeed I may appoint Tarat’ex as the chief of Astrid’s tribe?—

No.

She’s mine. Onlymine.

“Mine!” I growl.

“It will be yours any moment, Chief,” Tarat’ex says. “It is yoursnow. All you need to do is collect it.”

“What?” I snap, getting tired of his voice. “Collectwhat?”

He pulls away from me, taken aback. “The gold, Chief!”

“Of course. The gold.” I’m not even sure what I’m saying.

‘I never wanted to leave you,’ she said. Is it true? Why did she want to come with me across the rope bridge? Was it only to find her friend with the gold? Or did she mean what she said? Did she love me in her own little way? The way I love her?

I take the half-carved rock out of my pocket and keep working on it, one careful scratch with the claw at a time, removing an invisible amount of the stone with each pass. “Give me strength. Be my hoard.”

I stumble over a root, but manage to straighten myself.

“Are you not feeling well, Chief?” someone asks nearby. “You look a little… pale.”

I raise my head. Who’s talking? Ah, it’s just Tarat’ex. “I’m fine. Stay out of my lair!”

“Your lair, Chief?”

I blink. I’m still on goldforsaken, nightmarish Xren, not lying on my hoard.

“Mind your own affairs,” I snarl. “My hoard is well hidden! You will never find her!”

“Ummm… all right, Chief. Your hoard is safe from me. I just want to be chief of the Krast.”

I grunt and continue, following the two other outcasts through the jungle.

Losing my balance, I veer into a thick thornbush and drag some of it with me as the thorns bury themselves in my scales. They seem to have become all soft and weak. Just like all of me.

“How much longer?” I ask after an eternity of painful goldlessness.

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