Hayley
The cold sea water drenched me as I lay wedged between two boulders. I don’t know how far I fell, but the landing was hard. I gasped for breath in between each crashing wave and had no idea how badly I was hurt. Hurt or not, if I didn’t get up and away from the surf, I’d drown.
Another wave, larger than the ones before, half lifted me before dropping me back down into the cleft. I struggled to sit up, but could get no purchase with my hands. As my legs were trapped, they did me no good. Breathing hard, I grunted as I pushed away from the rocks with all my strength, and managed only to raise my torso. Panting, I lay back down and held my breath as yet another wave threatened to kill me.
Wait for the next big one.
Okay. I held my breath during each episode of the sea washing over my head, my body, spluttering and gasping when it passed. Though I didn’t feel much pain, I lost the necessary strength to struggle against each wave that swamped me with choking sea water. Surely the next big one will happen soon.
It came.
It lifted me high enough that I kicked free of the boulders, and managed to stand where I once lay wedged. The wave tried to drag me into the sea when it swept back out. Yet being on my legs, however shaky they were, permitted me to brace myselfagainst a rock and hold on. Once it released me from its grip, the lesser waves weren’t as difficult to fight against.
As slippery as they were, the rocks weren’t easy to traverse. I stumbled on, grabbing hold of jagged rocks to maintain my balance. A crab, waving its pinchers at me in a threatening motion, scuttled off the boulder next to me and dropped into the surf. Perhaps I was too big to fight. I worked my way forward, cold, shaking, and beginning to ache all over, searching for a beach.
Or at least a level place to stand and rest.
I found no such place.
I kept going. Heavy waves continued to crash over me, forcing me to lose my precious balance, exhausting me. Stopping meant potentially drowning. Not daring to stop, not even daring to look up in search of a pair of dragons searching for me. Fiona and Damon must know I’d escaped. Surely, they’ve guessed exactly how I’d managed it.
They will no doubt be flying along the jagged coast, watching the waves, hoping to spot me. Or my dead body.
“I ain’t dead yet, you pikers.”
Grim, I struggled on, slipping, sliding, catching my ankles between rocks until they were scraped and raw. My head pounded from where I hit it in my initial fall. My back burned with living fire from the struggle to climb over and around the wet boulders.
Pausing to catch my breath, I looked out to sea. I guessed I headed south, but that knowledge did me little good. I had no idea what lay ahead of me. Leaning against a rock, I panted while trying to ease my back. The sea continually beat at my strength, my will power.
Soon, I might not have either left.
Aha! Amid the cliff I traipsed under, I saw a deep hollow. Not quite a cave, but it was out of the water and mostly level. Agood place to rest for a while, I thought, working my way toward it. To reach it, I needed to clamber up and over the rocks that separated me from the cave.
Once inside, I sat with my legs dangling over the edge, shivering. The hollow was occupied by crabs waving their claws at me, but their threats failed to intimidate me very much. I breathed in and out, my eyes closed, thankful for the chance to sit for a while.
A shadow passed between me and the sunlight.
A dragon!
My eyes shot open as panic filled my mouth, forcing my heart to thud hollowly in my chest. Damon or Fiona. Or both now hunted me, searching the shoreline for a glimpse of me. Or my corpse. I looked up as high as I could, trying to see above the cliff’s uppermost edge.
I saw nothing.
No dragon soared over the ocean.
Lifting my legs, I wrapped my arms around my knees, shaking harder than ever. Any dragon flying over the sea could spot me easily. I was also quite trapped. I could return below and begin my struggle along the shore, but again, I’d be seen in no time at all.
The dragon swooped low over the rocky shore, banking seaward with wings wide. It hadn’t seen me.
I stared hard as it soared over the waves, turning northward, flying low. What color was it? Fiona was gold, Damon’s hide was black. Alaric’s hide was also black, not that he knew where I was. So, who was this dragon flying in obvious search for something.
Or someone.
It flew closer. The dragon’s hide was a beautiful mixture of silver and gray, long, lithe and flew more gracefully than any swan.
“Hayley!”
I started.
