Chap. 386 The Surprise

Chap. 386 The Surprise

Thank the stars between is silent, he thought.

They’d appeared directly over the cavern they’d landed on the day before.

Perfect he said to Raventh.

Of course, Raventh said, not a little proud of himself, I know where I am.

Circle, please? I think we might want to perch on that outcrop to our left. The wind..

We’re already downwind Raventh said, I remembered from yesterday. He eased sideways until the larger outcrop was beneath him. He landed, the only sound a muffled thump which was occluded by the wind sighing in the dead grass.

K’ndar scanned the entrance of the cavern with his binocular. There was no sign of life, but he noted a fresh bone, cleaned of any sort of flesh, near it.

He reached out to touch Siskin, perched behind Raventh’s head. The blue flinched, startled.

He is focused on the cave entrance.

“Siskin,” he said, “will you please look in the cavern? Show me if there’s anything in it.”

The blue chipped softly, then opened his wings to allow the wind to lift him.

Siskin flew to the cavern entrance, then, after several moments, entered, warily. Hovering, he sent images of the interior. The floor was littered with the remains of kills. Other than the nightflyers carpeting the ceiling, the cave was empty.

Disappointment and dismay filled K’ndar’s mind.

Where did they go? Did we scare them away?

He says it’s too dark for him to go any further. Remember, yesterday, the cubs were there at the entrance in the sunlight. Right now it’s dark because the sun is just above the horizon and behind the cavern Raventh said.

Oh, yeah. How is it I’m not paying attention to this?

Siskin returned. He stroked the fire lizard’s head.

If they’re not in the den, then they must be out on the steppe.

He scanned the steppe. He saw no life that wasn’t flying. Most of the grass was flattened from a winter of snow and rain, but the susies were of a color to let them blend in. I might never see them, he thought.

I just see birds and the prairie wherries.

A knee, please? he asked, unbuckling, I want to gather some scat, that bone, and see if I can figure out where they went. Or why.

The outcrop was fairly close to the ground, allowing him to merely step off of it.

He could see bits of bone and feathers in the cracks and crevices. Apparently the susies sometimes used it as a dinner table, or perhaps it was adventurous scavengers stealing away with bits.

He noticed many scats, concentrated in one area a stone’s throw from the entrance to the cavern. A latrine! These are neat animals. Dian did say her cub began to use the litter box almost immediately. This makes for easy collection of scats.

He bagged the bone. It was obviously non-mammalian. “Whew,” he said, a combination of relief that it wasn’t a mammal, and also from the smell of it.

He peered into the cavern. I’ll need a light, he thought, just as Siskin said, it’s too dark in there to see much of anything.

He walked back to Raventh. He stuffed the collection bags in one of the saddle bags, and retrieved a flashlight from the duffle bag.

Right next to it was the molecular camera. I’ll take them both, he thought. I still haven’t learned how to use it well, but the bright folks at Arr and Dee said the camera provides a light to take pictures in low light conditions. And I do want to document the interior of the cave.

He hung the camera from his neck and stuffed the flashlight into a pocket.

The smell inside the cavern was intense. Only because it was relatively cold was it tolerable.

He walked further into the cavern until he could see no further than his hand in front of his face. It was just a little too low for him to stand up straight, making for an uncomfortable posture. I won’t be able to do this for too long, he thought.

In the gloom, the nightflyers tittered in dismay at his presence. He had to crouch to keep from touching them. He looked closely at one, thinking how absurd their tiny eyes made their upright ears look: like wings. Wings on their heads as well as on their back? I wonder, can they use them in flight? How could I discover if they do? Put them in a cage?

K’ndar, he thought, stop making research projects in the middle of this one.

I’ll just get the camera’s light to see how far back it goes. I’ll come back later today when the sun is flooding the inside.

His fingers found the camera’s ‘on’ button. It awakened with a soft beep, but he realized that he had no idea how to activate the light, especially when he couldn’t see the buttons. All he could see in the gloom was the small green dot, indicating it was awake. How do I make the light come on? He pointed it at the floor. Nothing happened. Shards, he thought, I am apparently too stupid to use this thing. He began to return it to chest level when it flashed five times in rapid succession, startling-and blinding him.

For several long moments, all he could see was a big blue spot in the middle of his eyes. Did it blind me? But then he remembered lightning sometimes caused the same phenomenon. I’ll be okay.

His eyesight cleared rapidly. He resisted the urge to toss the camera. Stupid thing. He let it drop to the end of its neck tether.

I can still use the flashlight, he thought.

He thumbed it on. The pool of light on his boots showed tracks in the sand from hundreds of clawed feet amongst the litter. They’ve used this for a while, he thought.

He raised the flashlight to level with his chest-and froze.

EYES.

His mind went blank, trying to understand what he was seeing-then his thoughts scattered at panicked warp speed.

They’re here. They’re IN HERE. There must be hundreds of them.

His heart started up again at a fast gallop.

Terrified, he kept the light on the eyes, as if its beam was a light saber that would keep them at bay. But his hand was shaking so badly all the light saber did was make circles in the air. He tried to understand what he was seeing. Are those really eyes? Was it some sort of reflective mineral in the wall of the cave?

Then one blinked.

Minerals don’t blink.

Run! Freeze! his mind shrieked.

Don’t run. Back up slowly. When you clear the cavern step out of their view Raventh said, his voice in his mind steadying him.

His heart was pounding so hard it shook him, and sweat ran down his chest.

Yes. Raventh says to back up. How far did I come in? he wondered, stepping slowly, not daring to take his eyes off those of the pack. Rocks that he’d not noticed coming in hit his heels, trying to trip him. If I stumble, I’ll die, he thought. Please, don’t come at me. Please. I’m leaving, his mind shouted at the eyes. Very soon, the back of his head bonked into the top of the entrance, telling him he was almost clear.

The cooler air hit him as he moved sideways to put the wall of the cavern between him and the pack’s line of sight.

THEN he ran. Raventh had a knee waiting for him, and he jumped to Raventh’s back.

Launch! he shouted.

No need. They will not attack me.

Are you sure?

Calm down. You are safe. It’s okay.

Siskin chittered in what sounded like amusement.

Raventh began to laugh. A deep base hahahaha sounded in his mind.

Suddenly cold from the sweat on his body, a tsunami of emotions flooded his mind. Terror, surprise, relief, resentment at Raventh’s laughter, anger at Siskin failing to warn him that the pack was in the cavern.

His heart and his breathing began to slow atop the safety of his dragon.

Were you LAUGHING at me? he grumbled, embarassed.

Is that what it’s called? I’ve seen humans laugh. I’ve never done that before. But it was just so funny to see you running like a scared cat.

It wasn’t funny. I was terrified.

It was too funny. Now I know why you humans laugh.

No one told me dragons can laugh. It WASN’T funny! I thought I was dead.

Do you think I would have just allowed it? I would have put my head in the cave and pushed them all away.

Siskin looked at him with a tilted head.

“You,” he snapped, angrily, “you’re a lousy scout.”

Siskin backed up at the condemnation in K’ndar’s voice. His eyes went orange. He hissed, so softly K’ndar wondered later if he imagined it.

Shame swamped his heart. I’m wrong. I’m blaming him because I’m embarassed at being scared. He did nothing wrong. He did exactly what I asked him to do. I am such an arse.

Siskin’s eyes bored into his. There was something indescribable in them. It looked like sorrow-and betrayal.

I’ve hurt him, he thought.

His heart broke.

“I’m sorry, Siskin. I was wrong. I am an idiot.”

He reached for the lizard’s head, fearing that Siskin would avoid his touch.

“Forgive me? Please?”

Siskin held his gaze for one long moment, then bent his head to accept his touch.

And sent the feeling of forgiveness.