Page 9 of Among the Burning Flowers
Next, she took out her firesteel, lit the candle in her mining lantern, and latched it shut. It might not be enough. Each time she entered a lair, there was a chance the sulphurous air would ignite, or that her light would go out altogether, stranding her in the dark with a monster. Few cullers lasted beyond their first or second kill. She was already on borrowed time.
Her palms sweated as she grasped her shield and lantern. She had lost her bear spear – her best weapon – during her last cull; her chances were even lower than usual.
Still, she did not ask the Saint for protection. She took his name in vain now and then, but had not prayed since her parents had been taken from her.
A few spiders darted away from her light. Her throat burned as she inched along the first passage, stopping to listen every so often. She edged around a corner, avoiding bones and smears of blood. It was thought that wyverns fed on lava, but their offspring relished flesh.
As Melaugo crawled on, waiting for her lantern to blow up in her face, she thought back to the bestiaries she had read, considering her opponent. The lindworm was an engorged serpent. It could suffocate her with its coils, but at least it didn’t spit a venom that melted flesh and bone, like the basilisk.
Around her lantern, all was black. It was best to lure sleepers outside for the fight, but this cave was too deep and narrow for that.
At the end of another tunnel, she negotiated a small opening and slid into a crouch on the other side. Thanks to the cloth she had tied to her soles, her landing was almost silent. She held up her lantern and waited for her eyes to adjust. This cavern was larger, the air dry and hot.
And there was the lindworm, surrounded by chewed bones.
Once it must have been an adder or a slowworm or some other legless animal, minding its own business, only for a wyvern to transfigure it. Now it was at least twenty feet long and encased in Draconic armour, as coarse and tough as volcanic rock.
It was also, mercifully, asleep.
Melaugo hung up her lantern. If the lindworm destroyed her only light source, she would die.
Her heart was beating harder than she liked. As she put her shield down, she remembered her first kill. A foul cave in Aperio, so tight that it had trapped her twice. The chilling sight of the culebreya – a winged serpent, curled in a hollow. The stony rasping of its breath.
And the realisation, terrible in its magnitude, that all the stories of the past were true.
That monstersdidlurk in the dark.
She locked a bolt into her crossbow. According to rumour, meteoric iron was best for killing Draconic things, but nobody knew where to find it. This bolt, tipped with common steel, would only work if she hit a weak point. In absolute silence, she took aim, blinking hard as her sight blurred again. Even here, staring at a creature that might eat her alive, her own hunger felt more urgent. She waited for the beast to move, to open its accursed eyes.
‘Wake up,’ she ordered.
The lindworm remained still.
It was coiled in a way that might conceal gaps in its hide. If it was going to keep its eyes shut, she would have to get closer. Assuming its slumber was as deep as it seemed, she could use her bill-hook to pry off a scale, but that was a last resort. She took a few steps forward.
The lindworm raised its head. Each of its fangs was as long as her face.
‘Well met, serpent.’ Melaugo bared her own teeth in a nervous grin. ‘Did I wake you?’
A rattle stemmed from its maw, raising the hairs on her nape.
‘No.’ Her smile faded. ‘Saint, you were … waiting. You sensed me, so you set a trap.’
Before the implications could sink in, the lindworm began to uncoil, its hiss echoing around the chamber. Long ago, its eyes would have blazed with the fire of the wyvern that had created it. Now they were like dying embers. More than likely, then, the sire was still asleep.
Melaugo stood within striking range. As the lindworm moved towards her, she glimpsed the vulnerability she needed – a missing scale over its heart, where some brave soul had tried to kill it in the Grief.
All at once, the lindworm attacked. She let the bolt spring from her crossbow, missing its eye by an inch.
Then she ran.
The cave was larger than she had anticipated, giving her room to avoid the lindworm. Fortunate, because the bastard thing was clearly in the mood for a chase. It followed her around a limestone column, its breath hot on her back, reeking of blood. She tossed the crossbow, snatched up her shield, and drew her rapier.
Her lantern guttered by the entrance, casting bizarre shadows. Even though she was slow and weak, Melaugo let her instincts take over, trusting herself to avoid every strike. She spun with her shield, just in time to block a lunge that might have finished her. Wherever she turned, the lindworm was in close pursuit, its huge body rasping in her wake, threatening to trip and squeeze her. Those coils seemed to be everywhere, all over the ground.
With a growl, she dashed after the weak spot. It was only about as wide as her fist, but that was plenty of room for a rapier. When another coil blocked her way, she took a risk and scrambled over it, feeling its inner heat as she rolled off its back. Its hide was not slick, like that of a snake, but rough enough to cut bare skin. Only her gloves and greaves kept her safe.
Her body was already protesting. When she had faced other sleepers, there had always been a surge of strength, an icy rush of clarity. This time, it refused to come. The food she had forced down – the dried fish, the berries, the nuts – had not been enough for a fight like this. She stabbed, but the tip of her rapier only scraped along thick armour, making her curse.
