and maybe even a tent so that they could keep the weather off while they waited.
After careful consideration of the distance between the tree line and the longboat, Vanx decided he would try it. It was nowhere near dusk and he would be easily spotted from above, but he could move quickly and wouldn’t dally. He knew just where the jug was and the bundle with the tents and tarps was near the top of the pile. He also wanted to haul the boat’s iron anchor up shore so that, if a storm came, their boat wouldn’t wash away. It would be a close thing, Vanx knew, but he would abandon the work and flee for the tree line if he had to.
“Move all of that stuff back a dozen paces at least, Reen,” Vanx instructed. “A smaller dragon could get a few yards further in and get at you here.”
Once Reen understood what Vanx was saying, he set Sir Earlin against a tree and hurried to comply. Vanx moved to the edge of the tree line and silently prayed to the Goddess to lend him speed and make him seem unappetizing to the dragons. He waited until one of the smaller dragons dove down at the sea after a fish. He hoped the others were watching it as he bolted from the trees like a startled deer.
He nearly stumbled and fell in the loose sand but he managed to keep himself upright by churning his legs.
As soon as he gained the side of the boat he scanned the sky. The dragons were interested in the floundering catch their sleek, green-scaled cousin held in its claws. Vanx didn’t hesitate. He picked up the anchor and ran a good seven paces up the beach, dropped it, and charged back to get the rest of what he was after. The instant he hooked his finger in the loop at the top of the laudanum jug, one of the dragons came swooping. Vanx dove into the boat. When he looked up he expected to see a huge, fanged maw coming in at him, or a set of claws, but he found that his attacker had only been a shadow. The dragon had apparently spotted him, though. It roared out to its companions and made a tight, descending circle.
Vanx, with the jug in one hand, snatched up the top bundle on the pile. He fell more than climbed out of the boat and was forced to waste precious moments getting to his feet. When he looked up to where he’d last seen the dragon, he knew he was in trouble. He started running as fast as he could toward the trees, knowing that he had very little chance to make the cover. Already the larger blue-scaled wyrm was streaking along the sand at breakneck speed. Vanx could see his death approaching and all he could do was run.
Suddenly a blast of crackling yellow fluid sprayed toward him. The dragon then threw open its wings and went into a stall. Vanx had no choice but to dive into the sand to get under the dragon’s breath. He hit face first and his eyes and mouth were filled with grit. He started to look up but his vision was blurred and filled with a bright yellow light. He smelled his hair singeing and felt the intense heat of the energy contained in the dragon spew. He had never been so terrified in his life. He was helpless and at the mercy of a winged creature that was bigger than a cottage. He felt the dragon’s wings thump air to keep it in its hover. He imagined claws grasping at him to carry him away just as the young green dragon had clutched its fish. The lightning breath stopped and the dragon let out a terrible roar. It was all Vanx could do to keep from crying out from the pain the sound caused in his supersensitive ears. In the brief silence that followed the dragon’s call, there was a grunt from somewhere, and then the thrum of a bow string. This was immediately followed by an even louder roar and a double thump of huge, sand-blasting wings. As he was scoured by the abrasive gusts, Vanx’s world went blank. Not dark and fading, as if he were passing from consciousness, but just blank.
After a moment, Vanx felt himself being dragged across the sand.
“Come on, come on,” a voice urged frantically. It was Reen,
After careful consideration of the distance between the tree line and the longboat, Vanx decided he would try it. It was nowhere near dusk and he would be easily spotted from above, but he could move quickly and wouldn’t dally. He knew just where the jug was and the bundle with the tents and tarps was near the top of the pile. He also wanted to haul the boat’s iron anchor up shore so that, if a storm came, their boat wouldn’t wash away. It would be a close thing, Vanx knew, but he would abandon the work and flee for the tree line if he had to.
“Move all of that stuff back a dozen paces at least, Reen,” Vanx instructed. “A smaller dragon could get a few yards further in and get at you here.”
Once Reen understood what Vanx was saying, he set Sir Earlin against a tree and hurried to comply. Vanx moved to the edge of the tree line and silently prayed to the Goddess to lend him speed and make him seem unappetizing to the dragons. He waited until one of the smaller dragons dove down at the sea after a fish. He hoped the others were watching it as he bolted from the trees like a startled deer.
He nearly stumbled and fell in the loose sand but he managed to keep himself upright by churning his legs.
As soon as he gained the side of the boat he scanned the sky. The dragons were interested in the floundering catch their sleek, green-scaled cousin held in its claws. Vanx didn’t hesitate. He picked up the anchor and ran a good seven paces up the beach, dropped it, and charged back to get the rest of what he was after. The instant he hooked his finger in the loop at the top of the laudanum jug, one of the dragons came swooping. Vanx dove into the boat. When he looked up he expected to see a huge, fanged maw coming in at him, or a set of claws, but he found that his attacker had only been a shadow. The dragon had apparently spotted him, though. It roared out to its companions and made a tight, descending circle.
Vanx, with the jug in one hand, snatched up the top bundle on the pile. He fell more than climbed out of the boat and was forced to waste precious moments getting to his feet. When he looked up to where he’d last seen the dragon, he knew he was in trouble. He started running as fast as he could toward the trees, knowing that he had very little chance to make the cover. Already the larger blue-scaled wyrm was streaking along the sand at breakneck speed. Vanx could see his death approaching and all he could do was run.
Suddenly a blast of crackling yellow fluid sprayed toward him. The dragon then threw open its wings and went into a stall. Vanx had no choice but to dive into the sand to get under the dragon’s breath. He hit face first and his eyes and mouth were filled with grit. He started to look up but his vision was blurred and filled with a bright yellow light. He smelled his hair singeing and felt the intense heat of the energy contained in the dragon spew. He had never been so terrified in his life. He was helpless and at the mercy of a winged creature that was bigger than a cottage. He felt the dragon’s wings thump air to keep it in its hover. He imagined claws grasping at him to carry him away just as the young green dragon had clutched its fish. The lightning breath stopped and the dragon let out a terrible roar. It was all Vanx could do to keep from crying out from the pain the sound caused in his supersensitive ears. In the brief silence that followed the dragon’s call, there was a grunt from somewhere, and then the thrum of a bow string. This was immediately followed by an even louder roar and a double thump of huge, sand-blasting wings. As he was scoured by the abrasive gusts, Vanx’s world went blank. Not dark and fading, as if he were passing from consciousness, but just blank.
After a moment, Vanx felt himself being dragged across the sand.
“Come on, come on,” a voice urged frantically. It was Reen,
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