Fire & Flood (Mythverse #1)

Book 2 Chapter 9

9

I walk over to where it had been, hoping the light will reappear. But it’s just me and Hermes’ p***s. And miles and miles of desert sand.

Okay. I am lost in an unknown place. I am so tired I’m not even sure I could shift into dragon form, much less fly anywhere. And where would I go? Not back to the oasis, not with that scorpion possibly ready for round two. I mean, it’s probably dead, but in every horror movie ever the creature comes back for one last stab just when the hero thinks everything is good.

I walk around the columns, then the fountain, then I actually get in the fountain. I have no idea how it works with the keys, much less how to open the portals without a key.

Okay, Edie, let’s be smart about this. My team made it back. They’ll send someone to get me. I just need to wait here.

The wind grows stronger, whistling past my ears and sending sand into all my orifices. I pull my shirt up so it covers my mouth and nose, but it’s no use. It seems my luck is officially the worst, because if I’m not mistaken—this is a sandstorm.

I curse hotly. Too hotly. My breath blows a fiery hole through my shirt.

It’s so awful, I can’t help but laugh as I hunker further down into the fountain.

If I stay here, will I get buried alive? Is someone going to check on their pet scorpion and find me? Where the hell is the cavalry ready to save me?

Through the violent wind I swear I hear a voice. I can’t make it out, but it sounds like…howling?

Maybe they sent a werewolf to find me!

I stand and feel my way out of the fountain, stumbling forward, the sand slippery beneath my feet. One foot in front of the other, I can only hope I’ll walk into my rescuer.

I throw my wings out, deciding to risk flying, despite my exhaustion. Immediately the wind grabs them, the same way it would an umbrella on a stormy day. It pushes me back and then as I lift up, straight forward. I see the outline of a figure, weaving through the storm.

I squint and flap closer.

Whoever it is, they look worse off than I do. Wounded. Hurt. Maybe dying.

What if it’s not my rescue squad but some random monster?

The figure crashes to the sand and I make a split-second decision to help them. Friend or foe, they’re the one that looks like they need rescuing. I descend, the wind too much for my wings, and shield my eyes from the blowing sand. Only a few steps away from the fountain, I stumble onto the unfortunate creature.

I reach out, my fingers meeting fur. I’m beat, exhausted, and injured, but with a mighty wrench, I drag him back to the fountain, shielding us both with my wings, since the wind is at our backs now.

Exhausted, I climb into the fountain and lay down under the lip, hoping it will shield us both, for now.

The howling wind eventually lulls me to sleep, and when I wake up the sandstorm is over. I climb out of the fountain, shaking sand out of my hair. Not that it does much good. I’m pretty sure I have sand in every c***k and crevice.

My stomach growls and I realize it’s night, again. I haven’t eaten and only slept in fitful sand drenched spurts. That kind of uneven sleep always leads to the trippiest dreams. Like I dreamt I saved a werewolf from the sandstorm.

I am shaking my head at this thought, when my dragon-sense tingles. The dragon-sense thing—and learning when to listen to it—is still new. But right now, it’s clear: something is watching me.

I turn back toward the fountain. A glowing yellow eye stares back at me.

I gasp as a growling wolf stalks out of the fountain. It’s mangy and dirty and missing one eye. It shakes the sand from its fur and studies me with the good one it has left.

I consider shifting, but I am beyond exhausted. Instead I pull my pack around and extract a piece of beef jerky. I take a bite, then hold it out…palm up, the way my dad taught me when meeting a new dog.

“It’s okay, boy,” I say. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Are you hungry? Don’t you want some yummy jerky? It’s so much tastier than I am.”

He tilts his head, studying me. Then sniffs the air between us. A deep snuffling inhale.

Suddenly there’s a n***d bleeding boy in front of me.

“I’m…Nico,” he says, holding out one hand, while the other covers a deep gash in his side. Blood drips onto sand. His fur must have been soaking it up before he shifted.

“Edie,” I reply, taking his hand. “Are you…” I stop before I can ask if he’s okay. He is so obviously not.

I watch as he shifts back into a wolf and then almost immediately slumps to the ground. His good eye flutters and I’m pretty sure he’s gonna pass out. Maybe even die. I have no idea how much blood he’s already lost.

As I rush to his side, my pack thumps against my back. I’m glad that like my uniform, it shifts with me. I’d almost ditched it for Operation Drown The Bug, but when I asked Hepa to carry it for me, she flat out refused.

“Survival 101,” she’d said, with a disgusted head toss. “Your pack is your life.”

At the time I thought it was a little overdramatic, but now…well, now I get it. Besides food and other basic necessities, I also threw in a can of instant healing stuff that I swiped from the infirmary a few months back. I used it pretty regularly during my flying lessons, so there’s not a whole lot left. Reaching into my pack, I give the can a shake and hear the liquid slosh around. Yeah, there should be enough in there to at least close the wound.

Pulling the can out, I approach the wolf, er, Nico.

“Hey.” I hold the can out. “I’ve got something here that might help you.”

He shifts again and now I can see he’s white as a sheet. “That’s Academy stuff,” he growls. “Are you from Mount Olympus Academy? My mom—” Before he can finish that thought his eyes roll back into his head and he passes out.

I hurry to his side, my finger on the spray button. But then I hesitate, wondering how he was going to finish that sentence. What if it was, “My mom says all Academy students must die?”

Should I use the last of my healing stuff on someone who might be my enemy?

The boy moans softly. He looks about my age. Maybe he is with the monsters—why else would he be out here? But he hasn’t hurt me yet, or even tried to.

Dad used to say, “Assuming the worst of everyone around you is an ugly way to live.” And I agree with him.

I spray Nico’s side, using everything that’s left in the can and then watch as his wound magically closes up. He doesn’t look good as new, but I’m hoping it’s enough so that he’ll survive.

I also bind his head. The socket with his missing eye is pretty freaking gross. It’s crusted with sand and blood. I wince and realize my own arm is cut—although the blood clotted a while ago. I give it a tentative look, but my shirt is firmly secured to the wound, caught up in the dried blood.

“We’re a great pair,” he says, making me jump. I hadn’t realized he was awake. His voice is low and gravelly. “Do you have water?”

“Yes.” I hold it to his lips, trickling a few drops in. There’s not much left and with two of us drinking, it won’t last long.

“Thank you,” he breathes. “I thought I was a goner in that storm for sure.”

“Why are you out here?” I ask, no longer holding out hope that he’s part of my rescue mission. He looks starved and dehydrated and, honestly, like he’s been lost in the desert for days—if not weeks.

“Are you from the Academy?” he asks instead of answering my questions.

I consider not answering but he continues, “’Cause it would really suck to escape the monsters, just to be rescued by a monster sympathizer.”

“I’m with the Academy,” I assure him. “I was on a mission to rescue my mother from monsters, actually. It all went horribly wrong.”

“Been there.” He barks out a laugh that turns into a coughing fit.

“My team escaped through the portal but it closed on me. I’m waiting for help.”

“Yeah, those things can be finicky…you have to all go through at once. If a gnat flies through it’ll count as one of your team.”

I want to ask him what he’s doing out here. What happened to him. Who he is. But I see he’s struggling to remain conscious.

“Just rest for now,” I tell him. “I’m sure they’ll come and get us really soon.”

He looks up at me with his puppy dog eye and tells me, “I never thought I’d see anyone from the Academy again. I never thought I’d escape. You’re beautiful.” And passes out.

I’m left in the desert with a half-dead werewolf and a portal that won’t open. But at least I can rock the crazy survivor lady look.

I smile at the thought because otherwise I’d cry.