unnoticed by Gustav, but found no animal larger than a bug. The trees held a deep, ponderous hum of energy, like a rumble of thunder.
Ayda walked by them, brushing her fingertips against their trunks and peering up into the canopy. “The trees are old. They’ve almost forgotten how to talk.”
“How will we ever bear the loss?” Douglon muttered.
The rain fell on the canopy of the trees above them. The water cascaded down from above, here and there making the ground a patchwork of dry dirt and mud. They walked, their eyes mostly up, watching for the water and winding from dry patch to dry patch.
A dry crack from under Douglon’s boot echoed through the forest. Everyone stopped.
The ground ahead of them was littered with pale sticks.
“These didn’t come from the pines,” Brandson said looking up at the dark trees around them. “They’re not dark enough.” He dropped down to one knee and picked up a stick. It crumbled in his hand. “Bones! They’re all bones!”
A slight chill ran down Alaric’s spine. As far as he could see, bones of different sizes poked up out of the ground like misshapen fingers trying to claw free of their graves.
The party stared in silence until Ayda spoke.
“What did you expect to find in Bone Valley?”
Chapter 13
Alaric knelt down. These weren’t complete skeletons, just scattered bones. A lot of scattered bones.
Douglon crept backward, cringing at every crunch under his feet. “Where did they all come from?” he asked, an edge of panic in his voice.
“Quite a few of these came from chickens,” answered Milly, moving some of the bones around with her feet.
“Chickens?” said Brandson.
“Some of them. But these over here are bigger. From a pig, maybe,” she said, reaching down to pick up one of the bones.
“Don’t touch it!” Douglon said.
Milly looked at him in surprise. “Why not? It’s very old. Look how smooth the edges are.”
Douglon didn’t move any closer. Milly looked at him puzzled.
“They’re just bones,” she said.
“I know that,” he said scowling, “but there are so many of them.”
“This one’s big. Horse, do you think?” Milly asked.
Alaric stepped in among the bones. Milly was right. They were all old. Broken edges were smoothed over from years of exposure to weather, and since little weather made it down beneath these trees, the bones must have been here a very long time.
A roundish lump lay half buried in the ground. “This one isn’t a horse.”
It was a human skull.
The sound of the rain above them lessened and the forest lightened. Alaric scanned the ground and saw a number of skulls.
“What happened here?” Milly asked.
Alaric caught sight of Gustav standing at the edge of the bones, squinting into the gloom. His befuddled expression slowly turned sly.
“There’s only one thing that leaves carnage like this.” Gustav’s voice rang out so loudly that the others jumped. They all turned to look at him. All except Alaric. He knew what the wizard was going to say.
“A dragon!” the old man proclaimed, throwing his arms out and searching the treetops.
Milly took a step closer to Brandson, and everyone looked up toward the tops of the trees.
“A dragon big enough to eat a horse wouldn’t fit in between these trees,” Alaric pointed out. “And one shot of dragon fire would have burned up this entire forest. If these bones were left by a dragon, they were left here a long time ago, as Milly has already pointed out. Before this forest grew.”
They considered his logic for a moment and nodded. All except Gustav, who glared at Alaric.
“It does look like the legend of Bone Valley’s dragon has some truth behind it, though,” Alaric said to Brandson.
“Can we please get out of here?” Douglon asked through clenched teeth.
Ahead of them, in the direction of all the bones, the forest lightened.
Brandson straightened. “I’m afraid there’s no way out but through the bones.” He stepped forward,
Ayda walked by them, brushing her fingertips against their trunks and peering up into the canopy. “The trees are old. They’ve almost forgotten how to talk.”
“How will we ever bear the loss?” Douglon muttered.
The rain fell on the canopy of the trees above them. The water cascaded down from above, here and there making the ground a patchwork of dry dirt and mud. They walked, their eyes mostly up, watching for the water and winding from dry patch to dry patch.
A dry crack from under Douglon’s boot echoed through the forest. Everyone stopped.
The ground ahead of them was littered with pale sticks.
“These didn’t come from the pines,” Brandson said looking up at the dark trees around them. “They’re not dark enough.” He dropped down to one knee and picked up a stick. It crumbled in his hand. “Bones! They’re all bones!”
A slight chill ran down Alaric’s spine. As far as he could see, bones of different sizes poked up out of the ground like misshapen fingers trying to claw free of their graves.
The party stared in silence until Ayda spoke.
“What did you expect to find in Bone Valley?”
Chapter 13
Alaric knelt down. These weren’t complete skeletons, just scattered bones. A lot of scattered bones.
Douglon crept backward, cringing at every crunch under his feet. “Where did they all come from?” he asked, an edge of panic in his voice.
“Quite a few of these came from chickens,” answered Milly, moving some of the bones around with her feet.
“Chickens?” said Brandson.
“Some of them. But these over here are bigger. From a pig, maybe,” she said, reaching down to pick up one of the bones.
“Don’t touch it!” Douglon said.
Milly looked at him in surprise. “Why not? It’s very old. Look how smooth the edges are.”
Douglon didn’t move any closer. Milly looked at him puzzled.
“They’re just bones,” she said.
“I know that,” he said scowling, “but there are so many of them.”
“This one’s big. Horse, do you think?” Milly asked.
Alaric stepped in among the bones. Milly was right. They were all old. Broken edges were smoothed over from years of exposure to weather, and since little weather made it down beneath these trees, the bones must have been here a very long time.
A roundish lump lay half buried in the ground. “This one isn’t a horse.”
It was a human skull.
The sound of the rain above them lessened and the forest lightened. Alaric scanned the ground and saw a number of skulls.
“What happened here?” Milly asked.
Alaric caught sight of Gustav standing at the edge of the bones, squinting into the gloom. His befuddled expression slowly turned sly.
“There’s only one thing that leaves carnage like this.” Gustav’s voice rang out so loudly that the others jumped. They all turned to look at him. All except Alaric. He knew what the wizard was going to say.
“A dragon!” the old man proclaimed, throwing his arms out and searching the treetops.
Milly took a step closer to Brandson, and everyone looked up toward the tops of the trees.
“A dragon big enough to eat a horse wouldn’t fit in between these trees,” Alaric pointed out. “And one shot of dragon fire would have burned up this entire forest. If these bones were left by a dragon, they were left here a long time ago, as Milly has already pointed out. Before this forest grew.”
They considered his logic for a moment and nodded. All except Gustav, who glared at Alaric.
“It does look like the legend of Bone Valley’s dragon has some truth behind it, though,” Alaric said to Brandson.
“Can we please get out of here?” Douglon asked through clenched teeth.
Ahead of them, in the direction of all the bones, the forest lightened.
Brandson straightened. “I’m afraid there’s no way out but through the bones.” He stepped forward,
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