Lost City by Jeffrey Poole

Author:Jeffrey Poole [Poole, Jeffrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hungry Griffin Publishing
Published: 2013-12-22T22:00:00+00:00

An hour later Venk handed the scholar a small ax and pointed to the growing pile of branches.

“Strip these of all smaller branches. Make them as clean as possible. We’ll be sitting on these and I’m sure you don’t want any broken branches poking us in the butt.”

Tristofer hefted the ax and eyed the large pile of branches. He nodded. “I think I can handle that.”

“Good. Breslin and I will start building the frame of the basket while Athos continues to gather wood.”

“What can I do?” Lukas asked.

Venk pulled one of his daggers off his belt and handed it hilt first to his son. “Help Tristofer. The sooner these branches are stripped the sooner we get the basket built.”

Working together the basket was constructed in just under two hours. Once the large tightly woven container had been completed, the five dwarves broke for lunch while Rhamalli continued to circle lazily in the sky.

“We should have thought of this sooner,” Breslin exclaimed once he was seated in the basket and clutching his pack tightly on his lap.

Venk and Athos joined him moments later. Athos leaned over the lip of the basket and pulled his nephew in. Tristofer extended his arm and waited for someone to give him a hand as well. Breslin sighed inwardly and then grasped the scholar’s hand. He was surprised to learn that he could barely pull Tristofer up the side of the basket.

“What the blazes are you holding?” Breslin puffed out. “A bag of rocks?”

“It’s just my pack. There might be one or two books in there.”

“Did you keep all those books you stole from the Zweigelan?”

“I didn’t steal them. I borrowed them. I didn’t want to leave them behind. I still don’t.”

“If Rhamalli says there’s too much weight in here, and something has to go, then I’m personally tossing it over the side whether or not you’re holding on.”

Once they had given Rhamalli the signal that the basket was loaded and they were ready to depart, all the dwarves were slammed against the basket floor as the dragon swooped in to snatch them off the ground, all while refusing to decrease the speed at which he was flying. Higher and higher they rose into the air as Rhamalli hefted the unwieldy basket clutched tightly in his front left claws. Once the dragon had reached a comfortable altitude for flying, he banked right and headed south.

Lukas made a move to stand in the swaying basket but was violently yanked back down by his father.

“Not on your life, boy,” Venk warned. “Stay down.”

“But I want to see what’s below! Join me! We’re safe in here. What do you have to lose?”

“My lunch.”

Lukas smiled down at his father and his uncle, who were both gripping the sides of the basket so tightly that their knuckles had gone white. The underling glanced at the other two adults and noticed they, too, did not appear to be enjoying the trip. Breslin’s eyes were screwed shut, and his face even looked a little green.

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