Daughter of Dragons

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Shoq swooped out of the sky toward the rocky flats of a mountain meadow. As he angled in for a landing, sheep scattered, bleating with terror, but he paid them no heed. His eyes were all for Lathwi. Even from this distance, he could tell that she was surprised to see him. She made no attempt to run away from him, but only stood where she was and gaped. Pleased by her reaction, he came aground with a flourish and then went strutting toward her. A dragon’s length away, he stopped and slowly extended his neck. It was then that he realized that her odour was all wrong—it boasted the tinges of musk and red blood which he found so alluring, but these were fouled by an overwhelming miasma of animal fear. He rumbled, irritated by this trick. Sometimes Lathwi was too clever for her own good. Still, he was willing to forgive her so long as she played with him. It had been so very long since he had had any fun!

This too was The Soft One’s doing. She had been acting strangely as of late: sometimes shy, sometimes contrary, and always annoyingly elusive. Just this once, he wanted her to be her old self again.

A futile wish. For even as his triangular head loomed toward her flat, stub-nosed oval of a face, she began to mewl and tremble. Then fat drops of brine began to drip from her eyes, further spoiling her scent.

Shoq’s bronze lips curled back in disapproval, exposing two rows of bone-polished teeth, and her whimper arced into a high-pitched scream. He hissed, then projected a command at her: quit this senseless noise and play with me! Instead, she collapsed into a tiny gibbering heap and hid her eyes behind her hands.

At that, he knew her for an impostor. The real Lathwi would never have been so ridiculous as to try and make him disappear by covering her eyes. He lashed out at the fraud with his tail. Bone snapped. A howl pierced his ears. Then a geyser of bright red blood squirted forth from the ruins of her leg. Now, perversely, she tried to run away; tried to flee on her hands and knees. But he was beyond the point of forgiveness now. He pounced, breaking her back, then seized her neck in his jaws and shook her.

Afterward, he began to keen to himself. He had looked everywhere for the real Lathwi; searched every field and meadow, but to his dismay, he had encountered nothing but impostors. The world seemed full of them. He could not bear the disappointment any longer. He had to see Lathwi again; had to see and smell and touch The Soft One. This was not a desire, it was Need. So he Called her secret Name—once, twice and then a third time just for good measure.

As he waited for her to respond, he began to feed on the impostor’s remains. If she got here fast enough, he thought, he would give her the liver.