Dragon's Hope (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book 4) Read online

  "Lana!" I yell, rushing in.

  Vines spring to life around me, swinging wildly, slashing at the air. I slice them away with the blade of my lochaber, clearing my path forward.

  "Help!" she cries out.

  "Let go!"

  "I can't!" she says, then I see that the vines locked her hands to the staff.

  The cvet trembles, shaking all over. Vines shoot out at me, trying to get around my legs. I have to stop and fight them off, losing precious seconds. Lana is being drug into the waiting mouth of the cvet. She screams, fear in her voice. My hearts pound in my chest, hard and loud, my muscles thrum as adrenaline pumps through me. The bijass swells, pushing in and vying for control.

  Cutting through the vines I step forward, but my foot comes down on one of the cvet's large leaves. It pulls out from under me and I lose my footing. I'm jerked up and over, landing hard on my back. The air knocks out of me as I hear Lana scream once more.

  8

  Lana

  Damn it, not again! I berate myself.

  It moved faster than I expected. The vines didn't just wrap around the staff like Astarot said but caught my hands too. It was faster than I could blink. How the hell does a plant move so fast?

  Digging my heels in, I try to stop the forward motion. My feet slip on the grass unable to find purchase. There's a scent on the air that reminds me of something gone foul, like bad meat. The closer I'm drug to the core of the plant the worse it gets. Cold chills run up my spine and down my arms.

  Astarot is coming, but I don't want him to have to save me. If I'm to be a hunter I need to survive on my own. The vines wrapped around my wrists are tight, making my hands numb. I can flex my fingers and that's it. Leaning back, I throw my weight against the forward motion. I slow but can't stop.

  The long, thick leaves of the plant surround me, each of them vibrating. They're slick and impossible to find traction on. I'm almost to the center of the plant. At a distance it was beautiful, this close it's terrifying. The center which looked like it was colored black from far away, is actually a mouth with teeth! It's also the source of the smell which is now overwhelming. The odor burns my nostrils making my sinuses hurt.

  "Astarot!" I cry, looking up for him.

  He's using his blade to cut his way towards me but something happens and he flies up into the air and slams down on his back. He hits so hard I feel the impact in my bones. The vines around him rise into the air, waving in some kind of weird victory dance. His blade flashes, reflecting the sun's light as he whirls it.

  The vines gripping my wrist loosen when he cuts through. Jerking my hands free, I grab my staff as it falls to the ground. Twirling it up and over my head, I shift my grip then bring it down overhand to slam it onto the main body of the cvet. It shudders, the ugly hole of a mouth closes then opens again. It's not the effect I was hoping for but better than nothing I guess.

  Whirling my staff once more I bring it next to my side and thrust forward, using it like a spear. The stabbing motion pokes into the orange-red center which gives under my thrust feeling soft and mossy. It doesn't appear to do any permanent damage so still not effective, damn it.

  Something shifts under my feet then I lose my balance and slam onto my back. Stars fill my vision as I gasp for air. Vines wave in the air over me. Raising the staff I use it as a shield while scrambling backwards. The vines show no interest in me as I'm able to scramble back from their immediate reach. Climbing to my feet I see why.

  Astarot is on his feet again. He wields his lochaber with deadly accuracy. The lochaber is a staff, not unlike mine, but is has a long, curved blade on one side. The blade is slicing through the cvet's leaves and vines like they're nothing. Astarot leaps into the air, his wings spreading wide, he hisses loudly. Gliding forward on the power of his jump, his tail swings to guide him as he whirls the lochaber around. The point of the blade faces down as he slams into the center of the cvet.

  Gore sprays out coating both of us. The vines and leaves drop lifeless to the ground. The entire thing shudders then lies still. Astarot pulls the lochaber free, wipes gore from his eyes, then turns around.

  "Are you okay?" he asks, jumping down.

  "Yeah, I'm fine," I say, my cheeks warm with embarrassment. "Sorry, I screwed it up."

  "You did good."

  "Sure," I shrug.

  His hands cup my chin, tugging until I look up at him. Tears well in my eyes as my stomach clenches. I tighten my jaw trying to not cry.

  "I mean it," he says.

  Closing my eyes I breathe deep. This is all I want, to find my place in the world. I want to be useful, to have a purpose. I know I can do this. Swallowing, I nod, waiting for my throat to open so I can speak again.

  "Thank you," I say, my voice hoarse. "I need to be better."

  "And you will be," he says, his confidence cuts through the emotions and upset. "Now, pay attention. The entire point of this is to show you how to harvest the sap from its leaves."

  He shows me how to slice the thick leaves then squeeze the sap out of them into small jars that we seal with treated leather and string. It takes quite a while but we fill five jars with sap before we're done. Once Astarot shows me the way to do it I do one on my own, making a mistake he has to correct. The next three I do without error. His broad smile fills me with pride.

  "So," he says, glancing down at himself. "We should wash up then we'll start off again."

  "Sounds good," I say. "What else do we need?"

  "Sismis claws," he says. "Grind them up, add the powder to the sap, and you have a good healing salve."

  We talk while making our way through the oasis. It's only a few minutes before we step into a clearing dominated by a beautiful, turquoise pool of water. Astarot peels his clothes off while walking into the water. I hesitate only for a moment before doing the same.

  The warm water is almost hot and feels so good on my sore muscles. The grime and gore of the cvet rinses away and I feel more alive than I have in a while. I wade out until it's deep enough I can just touch the bottom by standing on my tiptoes. Astarot goes out further, his greater height allowing him to touch bottom longer, then he ducks under the water, disappearing from sight.

  "Astarot?" I call out, turning a circle after a few moments.

  No bubbles, no response. He must be messing with me. He has to be, right? Doubt niggles at the corner of my thoughts. He has to be fine. No signs of a struggle, there'd be a struggle, I'm sure of it. It's a joke.

  Astarot bursts out of the water a foot in front of me with his wings spread wide and his arms held out. I throw myself back. I guess water games don't change between races. Laughing, he chases after me, slowed by the water. I dive in and swim away. In the water I'm quicker than he is, my smaller form giving me an advantage. We play and splash and laugh. It's fun and more normal than my life has ever been.

  I'm diving away from him once more when he catches my leg by the ankle and pulls. I kick to break free but I know I don't stand a chance so I turn over onto my back and float. He pulls me in closer, spreading my legs to either side. Beneath the water his cock presses against my pussy.

  He looks surprised when he realizes the position we're in. He stops pulling me forward, purses his lips, and looks up. Our eyes lock and I see he's asking permission. Biting my lower lip I nod. I want him, bad. He slides into me easily to the first ridge of his dick. Once that hits my pelvis he pulls with an easy, steady pressure and I breathe.

  His cock slides in, expanding my pussy as my body adjust to his girth. My eyes roll up in my head as he thrusts in. I've never felt anything better than him entering me, filling me to my limit. Once he's in he pulls me up by my arms until our lips meet. I wrap my arms around his neck and we move against each other, grinding.

  We kiss and move, sweet, passionate love. An orgasm builds quick, taking me in its grip and holding me tight until I'm lost in the pleasure. When it passes from me he's holding me tight, letting my body relax.

  He carries me out of the wate
r and standing on the sand I ring my hair out then work it into a quick braid. Once I've finished that I'm dry enough to get dressed. Astarot is leaning against a tree watching.

  "Enjoying yourself?" I ask.

  "Very much," he smiles.

  I laugh and shake my head. "I've had an idea."

  "What about?"

  "How to move across the desert," I reply. "I remember reading this story when I was young. It was about a boy who lived in this place called Alaska. It was all snow and impossible to walk on. He'd sink into it and not be able to move. So they used these wide shoes woven out of branches. It spread his weight which allowed him to walk on top of the snow. Seems like it should work for sand too, right?"

  Astarot's brow furrows as he tilts his head to one side considering. He shrugs, holding his hands out in front of him.

  "Maybe," he says. "Could always just grow you some wings."

  "Oh yeah, let me get right on that."

  "What? You'd look great with wings."

  "You got an extra pair lying around?" I ask, arching an eyebrow at him.

  "Nope, never have been good at sharing," he grins.

  "Just as I suspected."

  "What can I say?" he asks and we both laugh.

  "I'd like to try my idea."

  "Sure," he agrees. "What do you need?"

  I sketch out the details of my idea for him. He gets the concept so we make our way back to the cvet. Using the side knife I carry, I harvest several of the leaves. I form a loose frame of fallen limbs and twine then cover the frame with the leaves. It doesn't take long before I'm fastening them onto my feet.

  Staring down and admiring my work, joyfulness makes me feel light as a feather. Taking a few steps to test them, they seem to work. Nothing falls apart at least but I'm still on the grass of the oasis. The real test will be the sand.

  "Ready?" he asks.

  "Let's do this."

  We walk out of the oasis and onto the open sand, holding my breath as I place my right foot down for the first time in my makeshift shoe. The sand shifts as I apply weight then stops. Smiling at Astarot I put my next foot forward repeating the process. I sink in but not as far as I do without the sand-shoes.

  "Ha ha!" I laugh, pointing at my feet.

  "Interesting," Astarot observes.

  "That the best you got?" I ask, dancing from foot to foot putting weight on one foot then the other.

  Astarot frowns, his forehead wrinkling as his brow comes down, then he smiles.

  "Amazing?" He makes it a question combined with a laugh.

  "Better," I nod agreement, laughing with him. "Let's get moving."

  "Can you carry your pack with those?" he asks, nodding at my shoes. "I will carry if for you."

  "Thanks, but no, if they will work I need to test them in real conditions. I won't always have you there to carry my pack if I'm leading my team of hunters."

  "Okay," he agrees, but the frown on his face tells his doubts.

  "What?" I ask, shifting my pack on my shoulders as we walk.

  "Nothing," he says, shrugging.

  "Right, nothing, try again there buddy."

  He looks away, staring over his left shoulder into the desert while avoiding my stare. Silence stretches out, is he going to answer me? What the hell is wrong with him? The conversation replays in my head but I don't see what the problem is.

  "What?" I ask again. "Astarot, talk to me."

  I can't keep the note of pleading out of my voice. I don't know what is wrong but the not knowing is eating at my insides like too much acid in my stomach.

  "I hadn't thought of you being on your own," he says, glancing at me before turning away again.

  My gut knots into a hard ball as my stomach muscles tighten, my heart constricts, and my throat closes tight. No one has ever said anything like that before. Never in my life have I felt wanted, needed, the emotion in his words makes my head spin. I don't know how to respond. I have to say something but words won't form.

  "Oh," I say, at last more a sound than a word.

  A tear falls so I turn away. I don't want him to misunderstand and I can't explain it, not now. We walk in silence, avoiding each other's gaze. Hadn't thought of me being alone. I've been alone my entire life. Unwanted by anyone but my adopted mother, but I was a drain on her. She never said so, did nothing outward, it was my observation. I'm not stupid and I saw what she sacrificed to save me. I love her for it but I never wanted to be what I was.

  She gave up food, status, supplies, all so I could live. Never once did she even look at me with a hint of criticism. Never once with anything but love and adoration, but in my heart, deep inside, I knew her life would be better without me. As a doctor she had an exalted status on the ship, admired and respected, until me.

  When she made the choice to keep me, adopt me and raise me, my vagrant nature made her less in everyone else's eyes. She was the one who went against the grain. Broke the rules, kept the unwanted. She never once showed any sign of regret for her decision. I loved her so much! Knowing I was the sole cause of her suffering was hard.

  We've walked a long time, I'm not sure how long, spending the time lost in my own thoughts. The emotions Astarot stirred up ease and we resume our light banter, neither of us touching the subject that almost came up. About mid-day one of my sand-shoes snaps becoming a floppy mess.

  "Damn it," I curse, stopping and unlacing it from my foot.

  "Can you fix it?" he asks, kneeling down to inspect it with me.

  "I don't think so," I say. "The branches just aren't strong enough and look, the leaves are losing their tenacity. It's been getting harder to walk with them for a while now. The idea is solid but the materials are not. I need something different, harder to make this work."

  "I see."

  Shaking my head, I unlace the other sand-shoe then store both of the prototypes on my pack. We resume our travels but without the makeshift shoes the going is much slower. We've been marching west for hours and now the open desert is giving way to rocky outcroppings. Growing larger in the distance it looks like a mountain range, or the Tajss equivalent of one. As if I'd know a mountain range that wasn't in a book. My entire life experience was on the generation ship.

  Astarot helps me as we continue our journey and I take his help, grateful for it. Self-sufficiency is awesome, when it isn't also self-stupidity. I've done my best but I can't keep a good pace across the loose sand without his help. It isn't long before we're moving between huge boulders leading to the bigger rocks.

  The boulders are twice as tall as Astarot on average. Weaving our way through them our vision is limited to the distance between us and the next one. It's almost like wandering through a strange maze. At least we have shade to cut the heat. I bump into Astarot's back.

  "Wha-"

  He places a hand over my mouth, cutting off my exclamation. Snapping my mouth shut I strain my ears and other senses as he's taught me. Something feels off now that I'm paying attention. Damn it, what did he say? I have to always be alert and paying attention to my instincts. The monotony of the trip lulled me into complacency.

  Astarot reaches for the lochaber on his back just as I hear a grunt and then the clack of metal on metal. Three pirates step around the rock just in front of us, guns at the ready, aiming them at the two of us.

  "Shit," I exhale, reaching for my staff.

  9

  Astarot

  Screaming a wordless battle cry I leap for the nearest pirate. Surprise works to my advantage. Slamming into him with my body weight, I knock him back and into the other Zzlo behind him. The two stumble as they try to bring their weapons to bear. The third steps to one side, avoiding the impact.

  Lana's staff swings next to me, hitting the third pirate in the head. The Zzlo pirates are ugly, their skin has an orange tint with a leathery look. Sharp teeth show as they make guttural sounds of surprise. Two spiky protrusions hang from either side of their mouths. The top of their heads are bald with black tentacles that pass for th
eir hair around the sides. Gold and silver metallic bands decorate the strands at intervals down each one. They're wearing black leather outfits that serve as some kind of protective armor.

  The one Lana hit stumbles back, reaching for his head at the point of impact. The two before me disentangle, retreating behind the rock using the tight quarters to their advantage. Grabbing Lana I throw her behind me. She cries out in surprise then grunts as her back slams against the stone of the rocky outcropping.

  The third pirate raises his gun and fires just as I get my treasure safely shielded with my own body. Blue lightning jumps from the gun towards me. Time moves in slow motion. Instinct screams to dodge, move out of the way, but if I do, I leave Lana exposed. Instead I leap into it as the bijass rises like a dark cloud.

  The lightning hits my chest, crackling as it spreads, burning. My muscles light on fire, overloaded nerves scream. My chest spasms then goes numb. I roar, spreading my wings to the width of the space, only about half their span. Flapping them hard I leap into the air, working them to force life back into the numb muscles of my chest and to help gain height in my leap.

  The pirate tracks my rise with his weapon, his eyes narrow, his fists gripped to the shaft. I swing my tail beneath me and it slams into his chest, knocking him backwards. He hits a rock protrusion and grunts. Landing, I rush forward, leaning down to slam my shoulder into his solar plexus. Lifting as I make contact, I drive him hard into the rock.

  The leathers he wears lessens the impact of his body but I knock his unprotected head into the rock. He grunts in surprise then slides down. An impact on my back steals sensation, causing my right side to go numb.

  My right arm hangs useless, refusing to respond. Whirling as fast as I can, I'm struck again in the right side. Already numb it doesn't affect me as I charge towards the pirate who is firing, leading with my useless right arm and side.