Chapter Fifteen
Jarrett's feet hurt. He'd done little but fight and travel since he left his home in Risos to join the Black Guard. He couldn't remember how long it had been. He wasn't even sure if he'd missed his birthday. He could be twenty-two now and not know it. Someday he'd get home and look at one of the calendars in the great hall. When the world was quiet again.
The others didn't appear to be holding up much better. Connor's shoulders were hunched over, his hair falling in his eyes. Bastian and Elinor slogged along behind them, her cloak hanging askew, his sword dangling and bumping against his legs as he walked. They were all exhausted.
"Perhaps we should stop for the night. Let’s set up camp and carry on in the morning," Jarrett suggested, walking to a thick grouping of trees. It was the most defensible place he could see.
"No." Connor stood up a little straighter and pushed his hair back. "I can't stop searching."
"What good will it be if you find the eggs, only to have to fight for them? You couldn't. Not in this state," Jarrett said.
Bastian nodded. Elinor simply sank to the ground, curling up in her cloak.
"I think we're in agreement," Bastian said. He dropped his pack and pulled out his cloak, spreading it on the ground next to Elinor. "Who wants to keep first watch?"
Jarrett knew if something attacked them in the night, it would be best for Connor and Bastian to be refreshed. Elinor was already asleep, her chest rising and falling with even breaths.
"I will." Jarrett laid his cloak on the ground and sat down, arms on his knees. The sun sank quickly, ushering in cool night air. The sky twinkled with an uncountable number of stars. The last time he'd taken a good look at the sky, the horde of Black dragons had flown in to save them in Malum. Tonight the world was calm, except for the uncertain fate that awaited them on this island.
Finding the smashed egg had not only been devastating, it was also unsettling. Who, or what, had taken the time to dismember the poor thing? It was only a hatchling. A baby. It wouldn't have hurt anyone.
A branch snapped, breaking the quiet night. Jarrett sat still, closing his eyes and letting his sense of hearing take over. He took measured breaths, not making a sound. Another snap. Closer this time. And another.
Jarrett sprang to his feet, drawing his sword. The snaps retreated. He followed on light feet toward the sounds that drew him farther from his friends and closer to the mountain. He stopped, looking back at his friends. They were still safe. He hesitated, unsure whether he should continue to follow the sound or go back to his post.
The noise stopped. Perhaps it had been only a nocturnal animal looking for its dinner. Jarrett took one last look at the hill. He squinted. There was something halfway up. A light of some kind, flickering in the dark night. So there were inhabitants in the hill as he'd suspected.
Jarrett sheathed his sword. Tomorrow they'd venture to the hill and find out who, or what, had sent the sentries to them.
Before he could take a step back toward camp, something wrapped around his shoulders and covered his mouth. He fought, but the grip was stronger than any he'd ever experienced. Struggling only made the squeezing tighter. His chest ached as he fought for each breath. Jarrett was forced to stop struggling. Whatever held him dragged Jarrett away from the camp, his heels digging into the ground, leaving a rut.
His captor’s arm was covered in black. He couldn't see the hand to know if it was human or some perverted creation like the kilrothgi. The creature said nothing. It didn’t even snarl. Only its extraordinary strength made Jarrett increasingly certain it wasn’t human.
Time marched on, and so did the creature, dragging Jarrett. The stars moved in the sky, and the distance from his friends grew, but otherwise nothing changed in the silent night. He'd stopped digging his heels into the ground. It was tearing at his muscles, straining them so bad he feared he wouldn't be able to walk. He forced himself to relax, and waited for his chance to escape.
Suddenly, they stopped moving.
"Stand." The voice was commanding through a rocky growl.
Jarrett did as he was told, staggering to support his own weight as it let go of him.
"Turn."
Jarrett faced something shrouded in a black cloak. The hood hid its face. Even the starlight wasn't enough to give him a glimpse.
"Follow."
Jarrett looked over his shoulder, back at the distant forest where his friends lay sleeping.
"Now or die."
Jarrett followed its stilted path into the hill through a doorway hidden by a curtain of vines. His curiosity propelled him forward even more than his fear. The creature sported a limp, dragging one foot behind it. And yet it had the strength to heave Jarrett from their camp to the hill. He marveled at the thing, eager to get a good look at it.