“What are you saying? They left valuables in that thing?” Isualic’s suspicion is obvious.
I locate the underground stream and make straight for it. “I’m not saying that they did. I just – well, not I, actually. But the alien women thought that if those aliens had been able to save some valuables from the dragons, then this would be the place they hid them. After all, this was their very last spaceship.”
Isualic stops. “The women think there are valuables in there? But they are not interested in gold or gems. They only like wood and metals and food.”
I remove the rock, dip the pot into the cool stream, and lift it back up, putting on a wooden cork and giving it a final slap so it stays on. “They do. Well, you know best, of course.”
“How very true. But just for the sake of an argument. If the Inferiors left valuables in that ship. What would it be?”
I walk back up the hill, the pot on my shoulder. “It would be hard to get to.” I evade the question. I don’t want to be too clear about this – he has to go the last steps himself, or he will be too suspicious. “Impossible for just one person. Or one slayer. Or one dragon.”
“Ah,” Isualic ponders. “But two is enough? After all, you and the nymph were only two.”
“And what we found is that we’d need a hundred men like me to make any progress. What little we were able to claim was— but I’ve said too much.”
I put the pot down right inside the door and get ready to close it.
Isualic stands there, closer than ever before, trying to look over and past me into the Factory.
Casually letting the fur coat fall open, I see his red eyes widen when he spots the glint of gold on my chest.
I slam the door shut and bolt it securely, right before he can reach me with his claws.
Instead his long, sharp claws strike the door. It vibrates with hard scraping noises as the dragon seems to try to gouge his way through two hand-widths of solid wood.
The noises gradually stop, and I sense the confusion the dragon must feel.
I wait a little while, then silently unlock the door and open it. Taking a couple of steps out, I spot Isualic hurrying down the hill, a white-green streak among the trees and bushes. He looks purposeful.
I hope that’s enough. Indeed, I hope it wasn’t too much.
We will soon see.
34
- Dolly -
When I’m sure Jennifer is asleep that night, I quietly get up, take my already-packed backpack, and sneak out, having scribbled a short message on a flat rock and placed it on top of my furs. When she wakes up, she will know where I am.
The air is totally freezing, and it must be below zero. I can see my breath as thick, white steam.
I have furry boots on, as well as a hat and the long fur coat the warriors brought to Old Bune.
The sudden drop in temperature is the reason I’m doing this now. The dinos are super sluggish when it’s cold, and the dragons also prefer not to move when the air is this cold. I know Kyandros and Aragadon much prefer to stay inside on days like that. With their wives, of course.
I sneak under the fence, noting where the sentries are. But they are on guard for dangers from the outside, not for crazy Earth chicks sneaking past them from behind.
The time in the jungle with Brank’ox has been good for me. I move quietly, noting where there is light and where there is shadow that will conceal me.
I pass silently into the woods. It’s dark and unusually quiet. I still have to watch out for sentries on roving patrols.
After a while, I’m pretty sure I’m past the area they will bother to guard on a cold night like this, so I stop and take the gun out of my backpack. It’s loaded with gunpowder – not too much, just enough to make a fine bang and a long, flashy flame that will hopefully shock any assailant to retreat.
I know the way now, and in this cold, the mud turns to a rock-hard surface which allows me to walk fast and still stay silent. The blue moon gives enough light to see by, and I pass under the branches and over roots smoothly and without touching them. I’m walking really fast in a straight line, totally alert