Page 63 of Of Withering Dreams
I planted my feet on the black rock as I stumbled from the meadow, the rigid leaves snagging the fabric of my clothes.
“Shut up, you fool,” a rasping voice hissed. I immediately drew my dagger as I spun around, balancing the egg in one arm. Whatever was inside wiggled and shifted, the shell twitching.
The female Draumr emerged, her sword aimed directly at me, glinting in the sunlight.
“Sebille, wait.” I held up my dagger with only my thumb and forefinger, the other fingers stretching wide in concession. “We need each other in this moment.”
“I don’t need you … or anyone, you vapid imbecile.” She had an excellent vocabulary. I’d give her that. She glared down her slightly hooked nose, gesturing with her blade’s tip at the egg. “What do you have there?”
It was true that I had used it to divert its beastly mother from attacking my friends. From the corner of my vision, I didn’t notice any further movement, so I suspected it had worked … for now.
My other truth was that I didn’t wish any harm to befall the innocent, unborn offspring. There was too much suffering as it was without hurting other living beings who were just trying to survive—like all of us.
I took a tentative step back.
“Ah, no, you don’t.” She followed as I took another stride. And another. “Halt, or I will impale you right through that damned egg. I swear it.”
I believed her, but there was no other option. She would most likely impale me if I stayed where I was, or the creature would make itself known. I didn’t want to linger when it did.
As I reached back once more with the heel of my boot, it caught a jagged piece of stone. The unwieldy vessel shifted in my arm, the movement upsetting my balance.
My dagger dropped with a clatter as I tripped, my bottom slamming into the ground. Wincing from the pain, I swung my arm around, clasping my wrists together again, ensuring the cocooned creature was protected.
My nose scrunched as I attempted to focus, my eyes peering through Sebille’s shoulder-width stance. A quick intake of breath filled my chest because there it was—the Mirage Orchid—just as I had dreamed it.
23
BLOOD AND REBELLION
It proudly stood against the backdrop of its brethren’s inflexible stalks. The heartbreaking beauty of the tintless orchid stole my breath. For the first time in over a hundred turns, it had flowered—had chosen this moment to bless us with its otherworldly presence as it perched precariously close to the precipice.
Sebille lunged forward, breaking my trance. A menacing, low growl rumbled across the stretch of rock between the meadow’s threshold and us. The towering flowers trembled as something moved closer to the edge. Sebille squeaked, freezing in place as I hugged the quivering golden egg closer.
The stems shivered and parted, and two flame-colored eyes scrutinized me, Sebille’s outstretched sword threatening to skewer me and its bairn, and my hands protectively cradling the egg against my heart.
A puff of glittering air sucked into a pair of bulbous nostrils that sat atop a boxy, elongated snout. With a snarl, its breath billowed out, currents of sparkles frantically spinning about the air before it.
From the dark depths, the monster inched forward. Two broad forelegs, each with three intimidating, dark claws, dug into the moss-covered stone before advancing further.
The creature was strangely beautiful and dreadfully fierce at once as it fully emerged from the edge of the meadow. My heart hammered when a hint of recollection flashed through my thoughts. I’d seen a rendering of this Surrelian being during my studies. Its existence was the stuff of frightening childhood bedtime stories.
A wyvern.
A long, serpentine body and tail propelled the beast forward, muscled forelimbs assisting its trajectory. As it came fully into view, a set of wings sprouted from its back, each as big as me. Silky, olive-green feathers covered them, blending into cerulean tips.
Suddenly, it stopped and rose, balancing on its midsection. It was as long as six adult humans stacked head to toe. With wings spread wide, it stirred the sparkling air around it. Lustrous indigo feathers encased the top of its massive form from the top of the reptilian head to a spade-shaped tail. The rest of its face and underbelly were covered in gilded scales the size of my hand.
Sebille shifted closer to me, her eyes fixed on the creature, her sword precariously close to the egg. The beast growled, baring pointed teeth.
I whimpered; my aura flickered over my body, no longer able to be contained. From my peripheral, the metallic hilt of my dagger glinted.
I scurried back, pushing against the stone with my boots. The movement caught the Draumr’s attention, and she looked at me from the side of her eye, snarling, “Don’t even think about it, Vawn.”
A tiny crack split down the front of the egg, the incessant tapping from within becoming frantic. “I think we have bigger things to worry about right now. Pretty positivethat’sthe mother.”
I held my hand up, cradling the egg in one arm. Sebille squinted but nodded once as I shifted and gingerly set it to my right side.
The monster shuddered, feathers ruffling, as a snarl rumbled through its gullet, scaly lips quivering against razor-sharp teeth. The fissure widened, pieces of the gold shell flaking off.
