It’s like another world out here, and my mind immediately snaps into jungle mode. I reflexively scan the sky for irox and the surroundings for any threat.
Then I make my way down the hill to the charcoal kiln, walking with quiet steps towards the clearing we made.
The kiln is still smoking, and the clay has taken on a much darker color. It will be at least one more day before it can be opened and the charcoal taken out.
But that is as expected.
I find a piece of wood the size Dolly wanted, take it back to the hill, and place it where I can easily find it.
I then walk in the direction where I thought I could hear water in the night. But if there is a creek here, then it’s hiding well—
“Leaving your woman alone, fake slayer? Is that wise?”
I whip around and draw my sword in the same movement.
It’s Isualic, the dragon that tried to abduct Dolly. His white robe and greenish face are unmistakable.
His arms are folded across his scaled chest, leaning against a tree and looking calmly away. He’s old, but sleek, and he’s just too far away for me to strike him in one quick cut. Last time, I threw my sword at him, but this time I think he’ll be ready for that.
Immediately, I worry about Dolly. If this thing is here, then how many of them have entered the Factory?
I take two steps to the left so I’m between the dragon and Dolly. “Wiser than for a dragon to provoke a slayer.”
A flash of an evil smile. “Oh, is there a slayer here? Where?”
I back up slowly, itching to run to the Factory and check on Dolly. “Your entire existence is an affront to me and to everything that’s good.”
For a split second, the dragon is a blur. Then he’s slightly closer to me. “You’re easily provoked. Let’s see if I can provoke you further. Your woman is alone in that sick place. But even if you enter it, she will still be alone.”
I look behind me, making sure I’m not being ambushed and picking the best and quickest route up the hill to the factory. I ache to run there, but the last thing I want is to turn my back on this monster. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. You can’t keep her safe. We all know it. Brank’ox the Fake, we call you.”
Still a good ways to go up to the crack. If there are dragons in the Factory, then Dolly may be gone already. “Who is ‘we’?”
“Oh, absolutely everyone. Dragons. Your old tribe. Your new tribe. And you, yourself. I suppose the only exception is that woman you think you can protect. Oh, stand still, weakling. Your woman is safe from us. For now.”
“I don’t believe you.”
The dragon shrugs. “She really is. If we want her, we can get her anytime we want. After all, you are her only protection. And we both know that means she has none.”
“I am a Swordmaster,” I protest, suspecting that perhaps he is telling the truth and Dolly is not in immediate danger. “I have protected her before.”
The dragon examines its claws. “Or have you simply been lucky? Any boy with a wooden club could have protected her just as well as you. Even at this moment, you back away from what you think is danger, even though I have no weapon. Even now you don’t try to kill me, like a real slayer would. Some say you’re simply unskilled. Then there are some of us who think that you might in fact not be a dragon slayer at all.”
I stumble over the block of wood I found for Dolly, falling clumsily onto my rear.
The dragon chuckles. “Or is it both?”
I bounce back onto my feet and throw the piece of wood at the dragon’s face.
He becomes a blur again and easily avoids it. It hits a tree behind him and drops harmlessly to the ground.
Isualic shakes his head. “Miss after miss. You’re making a ridiculous spectacle of yourself, Brank’ox the Fake. There are so many dangers in the jungle. And yet you insist that she not have anyone to protect her. You are playing with her life.”
“I’m the best protector she could have,” I state as firmly as I can, but not feeling it. There is too much truth in his words.
He sighs deeply. “I only say this as a good friend of Dolly’s: I am better protection for