Behind me I hear a long-suffering sigh. "Morgan."
"Come on," I encourage him.
"There is almost certainly no gold here. This is a waste of time."
I grin despite myself. "Maybe. But for the first time in days, it isn't raining, the monster isn't attacking us, and nobody's trying to kill us. And ‘almost certainly’ leaves some room for doubt. Let’s see how right you are."
A pause follows. Then I hear his footsteps behind me.
"I would like you to keep in mind," Vyrathion says, "that you are wandering close to the edge of what a dragon will accept in a subordinate."
"I’ll keep that in mind," I say gravely. Somehow, everything feels a little brighter than it did yesterday.
16
- Morgan-
The island turns out to be larger than I expected. Not much larger. We can still hear the river from almost everywhere, and it never takes long before another stretch of shoreline appears through the trees. The places where the monster knocked big pieces off are still like open wounds. And yet, after spending the night huddled near the shelter while storms, monsters and general misery try to kill me, the place suddenly feels almost spacious.
Sunlight filters through the canopy overhead in bright golden shafts. Because of the flood, many trees have been washed away and the treetops aren’t completely blocking all the light, the way they usually do. Water drips steadily from leaves and branches, sparkling whenever a breeze moves them. The ground remains muddy in places, but it no longer feels like the entire world is drowning.
I stop beside a cluster of broad-leafed plants and poke one experimentally.
"You're inspecting vegetation," Vyrathion says behind me.
"Some of these plants may be edible. Or they may be medicine. Especially if they have thick leaves like this one." I break off a leaf and smell it. Nope, nothing special. I drop it and move on.
“Yes, of course. Always thinking of food and healing. What a strange existence you lead! Always at the mercy of everything around you. How do you stand it?”
“You get used to it,” I tell him as I pick a berry off another plant, pop it open and smell the inside of it. “For instance, this berry smells of nothing, so it’s likely poisonous. If I taste it…” I touch my tongue to the crushed berry, “...it is sour. So nothing I’d want to eat. Now I know.”
“Anything could kill you,” Vyrathion marvels. “And yet you chose to come along with me.”
“I’m still alive,” I point out. “So that was a good choice. Like I said, you get used to it.” I continue forward through the undergrowth. The island smells completely different now that the rain has stopped. Everything is fresh and green. The air carries the scent of wet earth, crushed leaves and flowers I can't identify. Somewhere nearby, something rustles through the bushes.
Vyrathion immediately turns his head.
I hear it a moment later. A series of soft crunching sounds. The noise moves through the vegetation ahead of us before emerging into a patch of sunlight. For a moment I don't understand what I'm looking at.
The creature stands about waist-high, with six sturdy legs and a body covered in short green fur. Its long neck curves upwardfrom a barrel-shaped torso, ending in a narrow head with enormous dark eyes. Several leafy branches protrude from its mouth.
The animal freezes. So do we. For several seconds everybody simply stares at everybody else.
Then the creature resumes chewing. Apparently we've failed to impress it.
“See? Even he doesn’t fear you," I whisper.
"He must be too stupid. Or perhaps he realizes I have no intention of eating him. His only danger here isyou. Surely you’d like to bite into him? Doesn’t he look delicious to you?"
"No. He looks adorable. I don’t want to eat him."
His eyes glint. “Are you sure? I’ll snap him in half if you want, so you can smell his insides and see if he’s poisonous.”
I gently cuff his shoulder. “You’re teasing me! Don’t hurt him. He’s our neighbor.”
“It’s likely preferable to not want to eat one’s neighbors,” Vyrathion agrees.
The creature takes another bite from the branch. Then it casually turns and wanders deeper into the trees without the slightest concern for our presence.
