The Unicorn Caper by Secchia Marc

Author:Secchia, Marc [Secchia, Marc]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Amazon: B0BK4SWLVJ
Goodreads: 63083082
Published: 2022-10-21T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19: Twisters and Gates

TWICE DURING THAT DAY, the companions met and terrified three unfortunate merchants with their trains of laden lizards and motley troops of mercenary guards who, upon spotting a Dragoness grinning at them from a nearby boulder, failed to summon up the courage to so much as cough toward their weapons. The well-defined trail was a notch carved into a cliff now, as the canyon wall tilted toward the vertical. The view was stunning, the contrasting layers of grey granite, dark shale, pale limestone, textured orange sandstone and gleaming pink quartzite making it look as if an artist had painted the walls in clean horizontal brush strokes. After lunchtime they Unicorns sashayed over a small saddle that opened up on a column maze below, and the trail zigzagged below a series of tall, flat-topped buttes for several hours, that at last offered some paltry shade, before approaching the first bridge across an unexpected plain of white quartz dust.

The old bridge, a natural archway of stone it appeared, spanned a smaller side canyon that must usually have a proper river at its base, but, even from a great distance above, Thundersong saw that it was bone-dry.

The gate on the far side was also nice and wide open.

Gaz gazed sourly across the archway. “It appears they noticed us coming.”

“Who knows, we might even have ourselves an honest gatekeeper?” Inzashu suggested, with sarcasm fit to split stones.

“Highly doubtful.”

“Indeed. I say he overcharges us by three times.”

“Five,” said he, and they shook gravely upon their bet. “What I do not like is how dry everything appears to be. Finding water could be a real problem if there’s a drought on. The most reliable source I know of is about five days’ journey from here.”

“I’m not sure Zurianne will make it that far,” Azania said in an undertone.

Thundersong said, “How’s about I go down to that riverbed and try to sniff something up, maybe dig for water? Meantime, you lot fleece the guardians of this tollgate here.”

“You lot?” Azania inquired.

“A most courteous plural,” he grinned.

“As if. Let’s ride, Dragon.”

“You’re coming along because –”

“Someone has to provide the brains,” she supplied, as smoothly as a Queen sinking her talon dagger into a hunk of fresh venison.

He was chortling so hard his flight resembled the exploits of a wonky bat as he descended into the canyon, whilst at the tollgate, Aria, Azerim and Blackguard engaged the sweating staff in a genteel conversation. The price would change, of that he had not the slightest doubt.

The bottom of the dry riverbed was far hotter than half a mile up. Even Azania wiped her brow and murmured something about it approaching desert temperatures, maybe over one hundred and twenty-five degrees on the Fangheat scale – the Dragon name for a system of temperature measure Humans called Fahrenheit. The origin of that word was lost in the mists of time. He flitted about a quarter of a mile along, before finding a sandy patch and putting down to give it a proper Sea Dragon sniff.

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