whispered in concern. “I don’t likes it. She not sleeping likes we do. She not waking when we shakes her.”
Zohar swallowed and nodded. He was feeling the weight of his decision to seek out the old dragon of the mountain. If anything happened to his friends, it would be his fault because he was the leader, the oldest, and so the others looked to him for guidance.
Maybe we’s should have just let the old dragon steal Christmas, he thought looking at Roam when he whimpered in his sleep.
Phoenix and Spring’s low cry of alarm startled him and he looked up as a dark shadow appeared in front of them. Their symbiots immediately shifted into small Werecats, hissing and growling in warning.
“Where are the others?” A husky, rough voice asked. “The twins said there were seven of you.”
“Who…? Are you’s the old dragon of the mountain?” Zohar asked in a frightened voice, standing up and holding onto the rock wall behind him as the mountain trembled.
*.*.*
Christoff stared down at the frightened, but determined youngling staring back at him. He nodded. It had been so long since he had listened to or spoken to anyone that it felt strange to be expected to respond. Instead, he just nodded and waited.
“Can’s you make the mountain quit shaking, please?” Another soft voice asked. “It’s scary.”
Christoff’s eyes moved to the little girl that had spoken. She had light blonde hair the color of the suns and dark golden eyes. His eyes shifted to her lap. Her fingers were tenderly stroking the small furry head of a Sarafin cub. He had seen images of them when he was a boy.
“He’s hurt?” Christoff asked, noting the cub’s bloody paws.
“Yes,” Spring said, rubbing Roam’s left ear. “He try to helps Jabir.”
Christoff glanced over his shoulder at the edge. Turning on his heel, he walked over to the side and looked down. Three more younglings were on a ledge about six feet down. A silent curse escaped him when another tremor shook the mountain. They had been occurring more and more over the last few months. Most of the quakes were so small, that no one would have noticed them unless they were on the mountain. He had decided weeks ago that it must be a sign that his time on this world was over.
“Stay here,” he ordered, glancing over his shoulder at the three younglings.
Focusing, he called his symbiot to him. A huge golden eagle appeared out of the clouds. With a silent message to it, the great bird landed on a rock slightly above the children and spread its wings outward, protective ly covering them. The three small symbiots, recognizing one of their own, returned to lay beside the children.
Christoff glanced over the edge again. Within minutes, he had climbed down to the lower ledge. A smile pulled at his lips when the two young males growled at him when he knelt down next to the female. She looked so small that he was almost afraid to touch her.
“What happened?” He asked gruffly, looking at the two males.
“She saved me,” Jabir replied in a trembling voice. “It was too muches for her. She fell asleep and won’t wakes up.”
Christoff grunted in acknowledgement. Bending, he started to scoop the small figure in his arms. He paused when a small hand pressed against his chest. Staring into the dark, serious golden eyes gazing at him with a hint of doubt and a lot of warning, he felt his lips tug in an unfamiliar smile.
“You’s better not hurts her,” Bálint warned. “I’s Alice’s protector.”
“Rest easy, young warrior,” Christoff said. “I won’t hurt your charge.”
It took several precious seconds before the boy nodded and pulled his hand away. Christoff looked up at the ledge above them. His symbiot could heal them, but he needed to get them to safety first. Deciding that his cave was the closest, and at the moment the safest place, he turned to look at the boys.
“Climb onto my back and hold on,” he ordered before he shifted.
Bálint and Jabir
Zohar swallowed and nodded. He was feeling the weight of his decision to seek out the old dragon of the mountain. If anything happened to his friends, it would be his fault because he was the leader, the oldest, and so the others looked to him for guidance.
Maybe we’s should have just let the old dragon steal Christmas, he thought looking at Roam when he whimpered in his sleep.
Phoenix and Spring’s low cry of alarm startled him and he looked up as a dark shadow appeared in front of them. Their symbiots immediately shifted into small Werecats, hissing and growling in warning.
“Where are the others?” A husky, rough voice asked. “The twins said there were seven of you.”
“Who…? Are you’s the old dragon of the mountain?” Zohar asked in a frightened voice, standing up and holding onto the rock wall behind him as the mountain trembled.
*.*.*
Christoff stared down at the frightened, but determined youngling staring back at him. He nodded. It had been so long since he had listened to or spoken to anyone that it felt strange to be expected to respond. Instead, he just nodded and waited.
“Can’s you make the mountain quit shaking, please?” Another soft voice asked. “It’s scary.”
Christoff’s eyes moved to the little girl that had spoken. She had light blonde hair the color of the suns and dark golden eyes. His eyes shifted to her lap. Her fingers were tenderly stroking the small furry head of a Sarafin cub. He had seen images of them when he was a boy.
“He’s hurt?” Christoff asked, noting the cub’s bloody paws.
“Yes,” Spring said, rubbing Roam’s left ear. “He try to helps Jabir.”
Christoff glanced over his shoulder at the edge. Turning on his heel, he walked over to the side and looked down. Three more younglings were on a ledge about six feet down. A silent curse escaped him when another tremor shook the mountain. They had been occurring more and more over the last few months. Most of the quakes were so small, that no one would have noticed them unless they were on the mountain. He had decided weeks ago that it must be a sign that his time on this world was over.
“Stay here,” he ordered, glancing over his shoulder at the three younglings.
Focusing, he called his symbiot to him. A huge golden eagle appeared out of the clouds. With a silent message to it, the great bird landed on a rock slightly above the children and spread its wings outward, protective ly covering them. The three small symbiots, recognizing one of their own, returned to lay beside the children.
Christoff glanced over the edge again. Within minutes, he had climbed down to the lower ledge. A smile pulled at his lips when the two young males growled at him when he knelt down next to the female. She looked so small that he was almost afraid to touch her.
“What happened?” He asked gruffly, looking at the two males.
“She saved me,” Jabir replied in a trembling voice. “It was too muches for her. She fell asleep and won’t wakes up.”
Christoff grunted in acknowledgement. Bending, he started to scoop the small figure in his arms. He paused when a small hand pressed against his chest. Staring into the dark, serious golden eyes gazing at him with a hint of doubt and a lot of warning, he felt his lips tug in an unfamiliar smile.
“You’s better not hurts her,” Bálint warned. “I’s Alice’s protector.”
“Rest easy, young warrior,” Christoff said. “I won’t hurt your charge.”
It took several precious seconds before the boy nodded and pulled his hand away. Christoff looked up at the ledge above them. His symbiot could heal them, but he needed to get them to safety first. Deciding that his cave was the closest, and at the moment the safest place, he turned to look at the boys.
“Climb onto my back and hold on,” he ordered before he shifted.
Bálint and Jabir
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