Expiring Covenant (Black Lake Book 1)

Chapter 2
Drazy

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I swatted at Verner, one of the fairies that claimed me and Kelza as their personal pets. There was little chance of hurtin’ the tiny sprite. Easily flit to his home in the ethereal, but I intended to remind the majie I didn’t appreciate the buzzin’ about my ear, like an annoyin’ gnat. The fairy Keen, Verner’s mate, dived at my nose, givin’ me her own message. I snuffed at Keen as though she was an insignificant fleck of pollen.

“I swear,” I whispered, “I’m gonna flee the south to get away from these blasted fairies.”

Kelza grunted, but didn’t take her eyes off the elk edgin’ its way up the mountain toward us.

“Don’t dismiss me,” I said. “Would ya care to go north? I hear the mountains around that Black Lake teem with game.”

“Oh, so ya’re includin’ me,” Kelza whispered. “Does the brood get to come too, or do we abandon them with the clan?”

“Of course we’ll take ’em with us,” I said.

“Lower yar voice, or that elk bull down there won’t be the clan’s dinner.”

“I hear ya can pull pike from the cold waters of the lake as fast as ya can bait a hook,” I said.

“Ya don’t even like fish.”

“I don’t like the bony trout ya find in the streams around here,” I said.

The majie Verner reappeared and perched on my twelve-foot-long spear, which I’ve never used as anythin’ other than a walkin’ stick my entire life. I flicked a finger at the fairy, who disappeared for a moment, only to buzz directly at my face. I shook my dreadlocks to swat the tiny majie away.

“If ya wouldn’t torment ’em, they’d let ya be,” Kelza said.

“Me, torment them?”

“Shush. The elk’s gonna hear, ya dolt.” Kelza pursed her lips and glared at me a long moment, takin’ her eyes off the game for the first time since we spotted it an hour earlier.

“Why do they have to fly about my face?” I asked. “I hate that.”

“Ya sound like a pitiful orclin’.”

“Ya don’t have to be mean.” Maybe I turned my bottom lip out at her. A twitchin’ chin never helped. Long gave up on that one.

My mate shook her head. “Ya’re a bull-daemon, a giant among the giant races. Act like it.” Kelza turned back to study the elk.

“Don’t compare me to a pissy little orc,” I demanded.

Kelza shook her head again slowly, and Keen fluttered off her locks for a moment, before settlin’ down again. “Ya’d rather I measure ya to a dwarf or ogre brat, I will.”

I had to concentrate to hear her, she whispered so softly. I leaned forward to see how near our prey had ambled, takin’ its sweet time.

An hour—if I can read the sun! I groaned. The elk munched on the brush fifty yards below. “Ya’re the best shot in the clan. Put an arrow through its heart and be done with it.”

“I’m the best hunter,” she whispered, “because I don’t waste arrows by rushin’ the shot. Why doncha ya make yarself useful, and shut yar mouth?”

I wrinkled my nose at her, but managed to keep quiet a few minutes, allowin’ my mind to wander. Oh the stories told ’round the campfire at night, of the forests and highlands to the north. They spoke of the abundance of game, and the fishin’ at that lake. When the Range is mentioned the speaker’s tone never fails to lower. It’s been a forbidden place for all of us alive today.

The Covenant, which brokered the peace between the races two centuries earlier, was oddly worded to imply after two hundred years, we could begin to mingle again in the Range—except for the orcs and goblins.

The Covenant’s plain enough about their plight. They were forever damned to the desert and mountains to the east. The savagery of the orcs and goblins in the wars rankled even the daemons, so the tales tell, though their deeds were done to the elves, humans, and dwarves, which were never the daemons’ favorite folk.

Savagery? Or their kind simply held the weakest hand at the negotiatin’ table. That could have just as easily been the case. History is written by the victor, as the sayin’ goes.

Kelza slowly notched an arrow, and I let out a deep sigh, leaned forward, relieved the long wait would soon be over. But movement overhead caught my eye. I twisted and searched the sky. Kelza’s arrow began its soft song as the bow arched, but a multi-hued shadow flashed from above and struck our elk. A scream echoed up the crag, as the elk spent the last moments of its life in terror.

I leaned over the rocks we hid behind to watch the bull-dragon settlin’ beside the felled elk. The creature’s long talons punctured the neck of what was meant to be the clan’s dinner. This was a disappointin’ development, in the extreme. The shout next to me made me jerked.

Kelza bounded down the mountain toward the dragon and what should have been her first prize in four days.

“No!” she screamed. “Nooooo!”

I scrambled to follow, my mate careenin’ off boulders on her rush, gravel cascadin’ in front of her.

If the dragon doesn’t kill her, she’ll kill herself.

“Kelza!” I shouted. “Stop! Please, Kelza.”

She reached the dragon before I hardly got off the ledge we’d been hidin’ on. She held her huntin’ knife above her shoulder ready to strike. “That’s ours!” Kelza screamed at the dragon.

The giant fluttered its wings and shifted away from the elk, scramblin’ to turn and face Kelza, bearin’ down on him. For an instant the dragon’s unprotected breast lay open to the daemon hen. She thrust her blade, but the dragon twisted, raised a taloned claw.

I screamed, searin’ my throat. Kelza fell backward. In my mind’s eye I saw her body slashed open from shoulder to hip. I raced to her side and dragged her away from the dragon as she continued to scream, “No!”

I drew Kelza far enough up the escarpment hopefully the dragon would lose interest and return to his first feast. I dropped Kelza to the ground, lookin’ for the wound that had to be drainin’ the life out of her, but all I could find was a single nick across her cheek. Blood from that splattered her jerkin, but she otherwise looked unhurt.

Impossible!

I pulled at Kelza’s clothes in search of the gash I had to have missed in my anguish. But found nothin’ more.

“Get off of me, ya oaf!” Kelza shouted.

She clubbed me in the chest with a clenched fist, and pushed me hard. I tumbled off of her and rolled onto my side beside her, looked up to see the teeth of the dragon loomin’ over the two of us.

“Be still,” the bull-dragon said.

All was quiet, except a scratchin’ noise. I looked for what caused it. The elk’s hooves kicked awkwardly against the rocks. Maybe only the ghost of the thin’s nerves, until its chest heaved. The dragon hadn’t yet been able to put it out of its misery.

Poor creature.

“We’ve been stalkin’ that.” Kelza pointed at the terror stricken, paralyzed elk. “For over an hour. It’s ours.”

The tiny Verner and Keen sped about the dragon’s head, screamin’ at the beast. The dragon batted its brow ridges at them, blinked at their irritatin’ tirade. The dragon must have seen my eyes followin’ the two fairies’ aerial assault.

“Can ya make ’em stop?” the dragon asked. Its chest rumbled.

I almost laughed. Maybe it was the loomin’ fangs that stopped me, or the beast’s hot, rancid breath. The dragon’s soft request allowed me to stop shakin’, though. Kelza did laugh. The dragon turned his head slightly to glare down at her. He didn’t look amused.

“He can’t keep the thin’s out of his own eyes,” Kelza said.

“Then we have two thin’s in common,” the dragon said, with slow, drawn-out words. “A hunger for elk and a dislike for gnats.”

“Our elk,” Kelza hissed.

I clouted her in the shoulder. “We aren’t exactly in a position to be makin’ demands.”

“I was thinkin’ the same thin’,” the dragon drawled.

I was struck by the unexpected calm of the flyin’ creature. The soft leather of its hide sparkled against the mornin’ sun, like the crystals I fondly search for in the gullies. I marveled at the way the purple, blue, and red faded and mixed, and glowed anew. I sniffed at the heavy musk comin’ from it. My eyes locked onto the thin’s talons, each over a foot long, tipped as sharp as any knife. The beast could have torn Kelza in two with a single swipe, if he’d been inclined.

Amazin’—he only pushed her away to protect himself.

“Ya didn’t mention a hunger for daemons,” I said. “Can I take that as a positive sign to our little impasse here?”

“I would not call this an impasse,” the dragon bull hissed. “I would call it simpletons thinkin’ they can bully their superior from his kill.”

I felt the emotion vibrate from Kelza. Before she could spout off somethin’ not likely to help our present circumstance, I reached out and grabbed her arm.

“This yar mate, daemon?”

I nodded.

“Yar evenin’s must be as delightful as mine. Dragon queens aren’t known for their sensitive wiles either. If she were here, she would snap ya both in two without a second thought. She’s a prideful beauty.”

“Prideful? Ya’d call killin’ two daemons prideful?” Kelza asked.

I shot her an angry glare. Didn’t know how effective my countenance was, lyin’ here in the dirt. She’s the one after all who practices the dagger eyes, since she has to keep me in line. I may be the less than serious one between us.

A gravelly sound came from the dragon’s chest, which made me catch my breath. An irate trumpetin’ echoed from high in the sky. I looked up to find what the bull-dragon already seemed to have caught sight of.

“Speakin’ of my temperamental mate.” The dragon’s head wobbled a little from side to side. “Is she not a beautiful creature?” He paused a long moment, gazin’ into the bright sky. He turned back to face us. His eyes narrowed, ears flattened. “Ya should hope she chooses not to try to land between all these boulders. Ya better go. Hurry.”

“We aren’t leavin’ without that elk,” Kelza said.

I closed my eyes and dropped my chin, but she wasn’t finished speakin’. Of course. Not my mate.

“We have a clan to feed. A hunter doesn’t go stealin’ another’s game. Tis not how thin’s are done.”

I glanced up at the queen spiralin’ nearer. Even hundreds of feet in the air she looked twice the size of the bull-dragon. She trumpeted repeatedly. A funny noise escaped my throat, like the sound of a younglin’ drinkin’ from a flask without properly allowin’ air to flow inside. Maybe that’s called a wheeze. The bull’s head lowered to look down on us again, bringin’ my attention to the more imminent threat.

“Ya have a brood to feed?” the dragon asked.

“Yes,” Kelza answered.

The dragon cocked his head to the side for a very long moment. Multifaceted eyes danced. Without a partin’ word he launched into the air. The down thrust of his wings rocked us. Dust swirled, gravel stung, and the fairies fluttered against the torrent before they disappeared. The dragon trumpeted a reply to his mate. Though already several dozens of yards away from us, the din still hurt my ears. The queen’s reply thundered across the canyon.

I found the nerve to stand, though my eyes remained focused on the sky, at the two dragons. Tried to swallow, but it took a couple tries before I managed it. I turned to Kelza who stood next to me now, face turned up at the sky, mouth dropped open. Blood seeped from the scratch on her cheek, which brought my mind to earth.

“Oh, sweetie,” I said, “that looks like it hurts.” I pulled my sleeve out to dab the blood away.

“What hurts?” She jerked as I touched her. “Ouch. Where’d that come from?”

“When you first tried to get us killed,” I hissed.

“Don’t be melodramatic.” Kelza reached up, found the blood that oozed down her cheek and dripped off her chin.

“I hear there’re no dragons North,” I said.

Verner reappeared, landed on my shoulder, and dug under my dreadlocks to snuggle. Keen appeared a moment later, landin’ on Kelza’s shoulder.

“Even if there are, if there’s as much game as they say—” she mumbled.

“Don’t ever do that again,” I snapped. Fool. Challengin’ a dragon. What was she thinkin’?

She looked over at me, a thin smile crossin’ her face. “Ya’re soundin’ like an orclin’ again. If ya’d stood beside me we could have taken him.”

“I must have been seein’ a different creature than ya.” I held up a thumb in front of her face. “How many fingers am I holdin’ up, ya old hag?”

She slapped at my hand. “I’ll old hag ya. Go dress the elk, or I’ll be cartin’ a two-legged carcass to the clan this evenin’.”

“Ha. As I suspected. It’s a good thin’ the dragon felled it for you. Yar sight is so poor in yar old age ya never woulda gotten an arrow into that elk.”

“Why doncha turn and start yar long hike to that fairy lake now and save me some aggravation,” Kelza muttered, walkin’ to the still elk.

“I’d miss yar sensitive wiles,” I said, bumpin’ her hard with my hip.

She staggered. “Ya oaf. A daemon afraid of a little dragon. Act more like an orclin’.” She picked up her knife off the ground.

“Little dragon, ya say?” I shook my head. “If I left, I’d miss yar sweet talkin’.”

“Are ya gonna help me, or talk all day?” She turned the knife around in her hand, holdin’ it by the blade, wacked me hard on the forehead with the hilt.

“Ouch. Hag.”

“Orclin’.” She gave me a big shove with her hip.

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