a smile on her face. Her lips pursed as she cooed at whatever lay beyond. "Come. I have someone to introduce you to," the woman said, her tone tender and far too familiar.
Despite her trepidation, Tressa's curiosity propelled her feet forward.
The woman beckoned as Tressa drew closer. A pungent smell, so similar to the vinegar they used to pickle their cucumbers in Hutton's Bridge but laced with the stench of decay, permeated the dank air. Tressa’s nose wrinkled, and she fought instinct, leaving her hands hanging at her side instead of covering her face.
"This is Decarian," the old woman said, sweeping an arm out to the side.
Tressa peeked around the corner. She gasped, her hands covering her mouth in horror. "What is that?" she managed to squeak out.
"This is the guardian, Decarian. He separates Dragonlands from Desolation. He keeps you safe from what lies beyond."
Tressa closed her eyes, hoping the monstrosity before her would disappear. When her eyes opened, nothing had changed. Only steps ahead the floor broke away. Flames jumped and licked at the broken edge. And beyond? A beast standing taller than the caverns under the Ruins of Ebon. It observed Tressa with eyes the size of her entire body. Four horns protruded from its head, two curling up, and two curling down. Long talons stuck out from its hands. Tressa could only see to its waist, the rest of the beast was hidden by flames.
"I don't understand." Tressa stumbled backward. "What is Desolation? Where did this thing come from?"
The old woman cackled. "Desolation is that land that lies beyond the Hills of Flame to the east."
"Nothing lies beyond," Tressa said. "The world ends beyond the castle walls." All the books Granna had ever shown her confirmed this. The Red lay on the edge of the world with nothing beyond the mountains east of its borders.
"Ends?" The old woman tossed the beast a leg lying on the ground. Tressa held back the urge to vomit as she realized the floor was littered with dismembered humans. "The world does not end. This is only the beginning. Desolation is the land beyond, but it is a world your people are not prepared to face. You are like children, squabbling over a toy."
Tressa folded her arms across her chest. "No, that's not true. It was the Red that started this war. They also started the last. We were fine before you interfered."
The old woman spun, facing Tressa with squinted eyes. "We were fine until the beekeeper at Hutton's Bridge cut off our supply of honey. It is the fault of your ancestors." She poked Tressa's shoulder with one bony finger. "If you had only continued to produce the honey, give us what we need, then none of this would have happened."
"What is so damn special about the honey?" Tressa asked. "Why start a war over it?"
The old woman cocked her head. "My dear, the honey is the only thing keeping this beast from crossing the border. The honey dulls its senses. It takes away its power. Decarian’s minions cannot walk without its command. But if what you say is true, if the honey is gone and there is no more to be had, then the Dragonlands are in for a war unlike any they've ever fought."
"Because the beast will cross over?" Tressa asked. Her voice cracked, fear stripping her dry. A spiked tail whipped around in the flames. The beast licked its lips with a forked tongue.
"Decarian will destroy everything in its path. And if you think the beast is to be feared, do not even contemplate the army behind it. The enemy has been waiting lifetimes to feast on the flesh of the people in the Dragonlands." The old woman shrugged and smiled. "I have been its guardian for generations. I am tired. It is your turn. The Red is yours Tressa. Your people will win today. I have seen it. Now claim it, responsibilities and all."
Tressa bit her lip. "Will you stay with me? Help me understand how to protect the Dragonlands?"
"Me?" The old woman asked. "My time is done." She took two steps backward and fell into the pit.
Tressa reached out in a futile attempt to grasp the old woman's hand. The beast smiled, spittle dripping from its black lips, and bent down. It plucked the woman out of the flames, her body burning, and popped her into its mouth.
Tressa turned away, but that didn't silence the crunching of the woman's bones between the teeth of the beast. She trudged out of the small opening and into the main cavern, her heart as heavy as her feet.
Tressa climbed wearily, thinking of her friends, still fighting, wondering who was alive and who was dead. Each step took her farther from the beast. It bellowed below, warning Tressa that the war had just begun.