Night of the Dragons by Miranda Martin

Author:Miranda Martin [Martin, Miranda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grab Miranda Martin’s Newsletter and be the first to know about new releases, deals and general antics
Published: 2018-02-13T16:00:00+00:00

14

When I open my eyes, they feel gritty and swollen. I roll onto my back, immediately feeling how sweat-soaked I am again. My body is aching, my head has a whole team of tiny people with pick axes going to town inside it, and my stomach rolls with another wave of nausea. Right back to feeling like complete and utter shit. And here I was, thinking I might be better. There goes that hopeful feeling.

"Damn it," I mutter, bringing my arm up to shield my eyes from the little bit of bright sunlight streaming in from around the curtain.

Feeling like shit feels even worse now after the reprieve I got yesterday. With the fresh memory of how it feels to be healthy to contrast this to, it's like I've lost that all over again. Not that I'm complaining about those few hours of feeling human. Wallowing isn't going to help. I force myself to sit up, my body trembling from even that much effort.

Cancer is a stone cold bitch. A relentless one that will gladly kick you while you're down. I take a few deep breaths, trying to take the edge of the worst of the pounding headache and the nausea. It only partially works, but it isn't going to get any better, so here we go.

The rock is cool under my hands as I use it to pull myself into a standing position. The world spins slightly, but I close my eyes and hold it together until it subsides. First stop, food cave. I need water and maybe some more of that jerky. My stomach rolls at the thought of it. Okay, maybe just the water.

I shuffle out of the cave like an old woman, hunched over and moving slowly, squinting at the bright sunlight. Yeah, that doesn't make things better. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I pick up the pace a little to get to the other cave faster, trying to get out of the bright light. It does not do my headache any favors.

I hear the dragon-men inside before I step into the somewhat-cooler interior. Makes sense that they'd tend to congregate here. Isn't it a universal rule that everyone likes to be around wherever the food is? I know that was where everyone on the ship tended to go when they had free time. I feel a pang as a fresh wave of loss hits me. Okay, maybe I shouldn't think about that, especially when I already feel like I do. Pushing thoughts of the ship away, I move listlessly towards one of the empty stools.

A pause in conversation.

Then the men are an immediate swirl of movement, helping me to the stool, offering me water and food with only minor growls and snarls between them. Honestly, I don't know who hands me the water skin or who gives me the jerky. I can't seem to quite focus on anything. Thinking about exactly how terrible I feel is taking a lot of my energy. I'm not alert or very aware of my surroundings.

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