Dragon Bound (Elder Races #1)(46)

She gagged, her empty stomach twisting. Dragos strode forward.

“If you’re going to vomit, make it quick,” he told her in a matter-of-fact voice.

He yanked the battle-axe out of the Goblin it had almost split in two and wiped the blade on the Goblin’s leggings. Moving fast, he collected the rest of his weapons, cleaning the blades on the corpses and sheathing them again when he was done.

She focused on the great metal door, not the carnage, and gained control of her gag reflex. She stepped around the pools of blood. She paused at one spot and tried to figure out how to get across a large patch of Goblin blood. It looked like a greasy oil spill had spread between two sprawled bodies. If she weren’t injured she would have leaped over it without a second thought. Her dilemma was solved as Dragos grabbed her by the elbows and gently swung her over to the other side.

The door had been barred, but he had already moved the thick wood plank. She grasped a thick lever with both hands and pulled down. The heavy door was hung well. It swung open on silent hinges.

They stepped outside into deepening dusk. The air seemed incredibly sweet outside the Goblin stronghold. The flatbed with the Honda was still where the Goblins had stopped. She shook her head when she saw the mangled wreck. It was a wonder she had survived.

“Now we have to haul ass,” said Dragos.

She looked around at the alien, wild landscape, and just like that, she fell into the crack. “That’s it,” she croaked. “I’m done.”

His head whipped around, eyes narrowing. He said, “What?”

“I said I’m done.” Lead filled her hollow limbs. She swayed and blinked, but he kept blurring out of focus. “I . . . I haven’t eaten well or slept well in over a week. Then there was the wreck and then the Goblins. I’m spent. I don’t have anything else. You’ll have to go without me.”

“You are a stupid woman,” he said. He sounded furious. Why was he so mad at her? The world tilted as he swept her into his arms. “I’m not done.”

Holding her tight, he started to run.

She tucked her head under his chin and fell into a halfwaking state. Afterward, she never did remember much of that run. She remembered it went on for hours. Dragos never faltered, never slowed. He broke into a light sweat, but his breathing remained deep and even. His steady grip cushioned her from any shocks.

She did note one thing and murmured a question when she realized he was not taking them back the way they had been brought.

“Hush,” he told her. “I’ll explain later. You just have to keep trusting me.”

That seemed to matter a lot to him. He kept bringing it up. She turned her face into his neck. “Okay.” It wasn’t like she had any choice at the moment.

“Good,” he said gruffly. His arms tightened.

That was the last they spoke for a long time.

At last he began to slow. She roused from her doze and struggled to lift her head and look around. They had left the barren, rocky landscape and Goblin fortress far behind and stood in a small clearing. He had run the rest of the day away.

The moon shone brighter than she had ever seen before. It hung huge and low and witchy over murmuring trees. The silverlimned and intensely shadowed edges of the clearing shifted with a fitful breeze, the rippling contours so lifelike, hidden faces seemed to peer out at them, whispering news of their arrival.

Running water trickled nearby. Dragos knelt and placed her on the ground near the water. It was a small brook. He put a hand at her shoulder blades and supported her as she struggled to sit up.

“The water’s safe,” he told her. “Drink as much as you think you can. You’ve got to be seriously dehydrated.”

He moved to the water’s edge a few feet downstream from her, laid on his stomach and ducked his head all the way in.

Pia fell forward, desperate to provide relief for her parched mouth and throat. She scooped up cold handfuls and sucked them down. When the need to drink eased she splashed water over her face and arms, desperate to get the stink of the Goblin dungeon off of her. She scooped up more to drink and sighed.

Dragos came up for air at last, flinging back his head in a wet spray that sparkled in the moonlight.

“That’s got to be one of the best things I’ve ever tasted,” she said.

It wasn’t just thirst talking. The water was crisp and alive somehow, more nourishing and satisfying than anything else she could remember drinking. She could feel her wilted resources soaking it up greedily. It soothed the cramped, starved part of her soul into something resembling peace. Already she felt steadier than she had in a while, the sick sense of crisis brought on by exhaustion, injury and stress easing.

He grinned. “It’s being here, in the Other land. The heightened land magic makes everything more intense. If you like that, just wait until you see what else I have for you.”

She pushed back on her knees and sat up. “What is it?”

“I found some food you can eat. I got you other things too, but nourishment comes first.” He opened the leather pack and pulled out a flat leaf-wrapped package and handed it to her.

She took it with obvious reluctance. “Dragos, I don’t think I could stomach anything you found in that hellhole.”

“Don’t jump so fast to conclusions.” He nodded. “Go ahead, open it.”

She pulled the leaves apart and the most mouthwatering aroma escaped. He broke off an end of the wafer she held and coaxed it between her lips. When the piece hit her tongue, it began to melt. She chewed and swallowed with a moan. It was indescribably delicious.