Bloodlines: Dragon Rider Book 2

Chapter 35: Caves

Hey guys, college classes start back up on Monday. I'm taking a creative writing class that I'm super psyched for and even happier that every class is online now because they weren't originally. And my work keeps trying to get me to come in and I'm just there wheezing like "nope."

How are you guys handling the coronacation??

Norah

The first thing I feel is cold. A mind-numbing cold burrowed so deep into my bones everything inside me shook. I felt the heat next and curled against the large body -- a giant, hard pillow that breathed. My mind extended to it. A small tendril of conscientiousness that reached for the worry. It pulled away slightly as if surprised. Then curled around me while I drifted back to sleep.

My mind begins to form strange dreams as images flash behind my closed eyes: a man covered in blood, raging oceans, raiders, and fire. Then came simpler dreams: Clarika practically pacing a hole in the floor. Slitted eyes. Holland's worried face as his lips turn down into a frown.

Clarika's muttering awoke me, quiet and firm. She paced the small space of Rima curled around us, glancing at the dragon with pursed lips. But the dragon's big eyes were on me, thoughtful and happy.

"Norah," Clarika breathes, relieved. She marches over to run her inspections, rubbing her cold hands against mine. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

My eyes slide from Rima to hers and narrow.

"You're in a cave." Rima fuses her mind to mine, reading my thoughts and questions without needing to ask them. For a dragon who proclaims to not understand emotions, she reads mine perfectly. "Everyone's fine. You just missed Holland."

Memories flutter down the bond, soft as clouds. Most are from Rima's view. Of trailing after our cages from the sky. The moon. Easton shouting for her and then Adam and I being carried out unconscious.

"The necromancer keeps to himself," she says kindly. "He doesn't talk. But I watch him sit in the back of the cave and observe everyone."

My fingers, stiff and aching, curl gently against my stomach -- bare stomach. Clarika must see it on my face and inhales. "You're not naked," she tells me quietly. I blink, shivering against something nuzzled along my chest. It moves like a snake.

I shift beneath the mound of blankets, glad for the soft layer between the ground and Rima's rough scales. Squirm chirps, nuzzling against my hand like a cat. Then it's Rima's turn to squint.

Clarika kneels, fussing with the blankets. "No one saw you."

"You're sitting on your pants." Rima reads my thoughts again but urges me to rest and not put them on. She shuffles against me. "No one's seen or tried to see you, Norah. Not when Holland would murder them for it. And you're not even naked -- not really."

Undergarments are hardly what I would consider clothes, but it's better than nothing. Still, even on the verge of passing out and with every fiber in me saying to keep still, I dig under the blankets with Squirm and try to pad for my pants. Every movement wears me down but I manage to put on pants before falling asleep again.

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Fingers on my throat jolt me awake. Strangely, I think of Renora in the arena and the skeleton from the tombs at the same time.

They pull back instantly. "Sorry, kid."

As my heart settles back into its chest, I give Holland a tired, lazy smile. Beneath the blankets, I wiggle my fingers in greeting, attracting Squirm who must think it's a call for him to come closer for me to pet.