Hip Deep in Dragons by Christina Westcott

Author:Christina Westcott [Westcott, Christina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Paranormal Fantasy Romance
Publisher: Taliesin Publishing
Published: 2014-04-03T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Elongated by the late afternoon sun, our shadows stretched ahead of us as we struggled along the game trail, the can of gasoline slung between us. Mud squelched beneath my boots, and burrs snatched at my legs as we pushed through the grass. Robby halted again, forcing us to put down our burden so he could scrub his hand against his thigh, as if the touch of the metal irritated his skin. He picked up his side of the can again and we continued.

“This comes perilously close to violating the Accords against using technology,” he said.

“I don’t see why.” I defended my argument for what felt like the tenth time. “Don’t they make metal containers in your world?”

“Oh, aye, ’tis not the can, but how the thing was created—in a soulless factory by equally soulless machines. And you canna tell me that the petrol inside ’tis natural, either.”

“But fire is only fire in any world.”

“Aye, and I could set a blaze to that nest with my magic. I do not need your petrol. Or you putting yourself in danger to help me.”

I’d stuffed the box of matches in my pocket and the flare gun into my waistband to made sure he wouldn’t need to waste his talent on anything as simple as lighting a fire. “But after last night’s rainstorm, that pile of muck will be so wet it might take too much of your magic to get it burning without the help of some kind of accelerant. You have to save all the power you can to face the dragon.”

If the magical strength available to him was proportionate to the calories he’d consumed, Robby wouldn’t have a problem overcoming the beast. He’d munched through two bags of chips and all the fruit and sandwiches. He finished up the last of the energy bars as we walked, his long legs striding so quickly that I had to scurry to keep up. All that food must go straight to fuel his magic, because there wasn’t a hint of fat on his hard thighs or chiseled abdomen. Like a battery, he was charged up, and moving with a fluid grace, but as soon as he tapped into that power, I was afraid he’d burn through it quickly.

He stopped again, this time massaging his fingers to restore circulation. “I do not understand why I allow you to talk me into these insane stunts. I have faced revenants on the Wizard’s Road and pitted my will against demons, but I have been back with you for less than a day, and I am like a foolish school boy, willing to follow you into another crazy adventure. Like the time you convinced me to help you put Tommy Hanson’s bicycle on his garage roof.”

I laughed at the memory, a memory that only yesterday I couldn’t recall. I’d always been the mischief-maker—nothing mean or destructive, just fun stuff. Childish pranks. And Robby had always been willing to follow me. It seemed impossible that I had forgotten that impish girl and grown into a responsible—boring—adult.

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