for a couple of years now, and I’m not sure if I can do it.”
She drops her furs to the floor. “Sorry, I should have thought of this sooner and made sure you knew the hut was vacant. In a sense. I mean, if you and he wanted to… um… play badminton in here.”
I stretch and yawn. “You rule, Jen. It’s no problem. My shuttlecock is on the roof, can’t get it down.”
“Oh. I thought maybe you’d be using his shuttlecock. Or is that on the roof, too?”
“It’s absolutely not on any roof,” I assure her and lie down, arranging the furs the way I like it. “If anything, it would pierce the roof from below.”
Jennifer locks the door and blows out the smoking Aladdin lamp that runs on dinosaur oil. “Is it that hard?”
I get comfortable between the furs. “Uh-huh.”
She lies down at the other wall and sighs with pleasure at finally being able to rest. “Have you played badminton with him before?”
“Maybe,” I grunt into the fur.
“Who won?”
“I think we both won.”
“So, he must be a good player.”
“I think he is. But I’m not an impartial judge. Tomorrow I’ll show you the last secrets of making soap so you can do it without me.”
“Oh good lord. There are more secrets still? Do they involve heavy lifting and disgusting things in pots?”
“Yes! How could you possibly have known.”
She snorts. “Just a hunch. Fine, all the secret heavy lifting from today is going to knock me out right now. Good night, badminton champ.”
- - -
The stiflingly dense jungle is dripping its humidity on me again, even if the morning has long since passed. It’s just that kind of day, wet and unpleasant in every way. Except walking behind Brank’ox. That is probably the opposite of unpleasant.
We’re in the middle of a squad of eight other cavemen, six of them carrying heavy packs and two chasing off any possible threats. And of course, Brank’ox keeps his sword in hand at all times, constantly looking behind him to see that I’m still there.
I have my own backpack on, filled with what little I have of clothes and certain other girly items that have been manufactured on Xren. The new batch of soap won’t be ready for a couple of weeks yet, and only if Jennifer gets it right. If not, then we’ll have to start from scratch.
The cavemen must be carrying several tons of pots and food and fruit juice and various iron tools. The plan is to get to Old Bune tonight, rest until tomorrow, then make the cavemen help us build a kiln for making charcoal and build a hut for us and do some of the more work-intensive stuff that would take the two of us too long otherwise. Then the cavemen can go home and leave Brank’ox and me to our mysterious mission.
All the cavemen are tense, but I’ve never felt safer, trudging along after Brank’ox’s broad back and chewing on a sweet-tasting twig. We’re moving much faster than last time, but it turns out I’m in pretty good shape and I have no problem keeping up. It also seems that our route is straighter this time.
We must be halfway when Brank’ox slows down and looks around more than usual.
I do the same. He’s clearly sensing something, maybe smelling a raptor or hearing a not-dactyl or something similar. But the jungle is quiet, and nothing stands out to me.
Brank’ox draws closer, walking half backwards and hefting his sword. “It’s too quiet,” he whispers.
Around us, the cavemen have silently taken their backpacks off and put them on the ground, long blades in hand, tense as bowstrings, forming a tight outward-facing circle around us two.
I freeze. They’re all expecting some trouble.
I can hear my own breathing. For three fast heartbeats, nothing happens.
Then all hell breaks loose.
20
- Brank’ox -
The dragons attack all at once, and Dolly gives off a high-pitched scream.
I slash my sword at the nearest shadow and feel the blade connect, more like a hammer would than like a sword cutting into something. But it stops the dragon, in the form of a thin man with pale yellow skin, hissing at me between pointed teeth.
I pull my sword back to swing it once more and cut his head off, but he pulls away faster than anyone should be able to and vanishes in the shadows among the trees.