AutumnQuest by Terie Garrison Page A

wriggling in her talons.
    Traz and I stared at each other. How were we going to get across this? I didn’t want to admit it to him, but I was terrified of deep water and had never learned to swim. Luckily for me, he didn’t even suggest it.
    “We could build a raft,” he started to say.
    “That would take too long,” I interrupted. Even crossing on a makeshift raft was a frightening idea. I turned to the dragon, who’d landed nearby and was gobbling down the last of her fish. “Xyla, can you see if there’s a ford nearby?” I pictured Traz and me crossing over on stones to make sure she understood.
    “Fish tastes good,” came her reply. “Easy to eat.”
    “You can fish all you want a little later. Can’t you please do this first?”
    She gave me a baleful stare, then winked an eye, flicked her tail, and took to the air.
    After awhile she returned with another fish clutched in her talons and the unwelcome news that upriver there was nowhere for us to cross. She went the other way, only to come back a few minutes later saying that the bridge for the road would be the only place. I told Traz.
    “Then we’ll just have to chance it,” he said. A slight frown belied his nonchalant tone of voice.
    “At least we won’t have to be on the road for long—just long enough to cross the bridge,” I said, trying to go along with Traz’s charade. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
    Traz and I plodded along the riverbank while Xyla cavorted in the water in her newfound sport of swimming. I couldn’t help laughing aloud at her antics, especially her trick of submerging herself completely and snorting air out her nostrils to make twin water fountains. But once we caught sight of the bridge, I told her to go hide in the trees on the other side until Traz and I met up with her again. She burst from the water into the air with two more fish, and, at my stern warning that anyone on the bridge could see her, finally hid herself.
    We drew close to the road, and I got an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Could it be a maejic warning, or was it just my own fear? I told myself I was being ridiculous—what were the chances we’d meet anyone, much less someone who would prove to be a threat?
    Unfortunately, we couldn’t see far down the approaching road, nor could we see over the curve of the bridge itself, so there was no way to know for sure if anyone was coming . . . in either direction. I wished I’d thought to ask Xyla to check. Too late now. If anyone was there, I didn’t want her to be seen.
    Traz seemed have caught some of my apprehension. “Let’s just run for it,” he whispered.
    I shook my head. “If anyone sees us, that’ll look suspicious. We’ll walk fast.”
    And after one more glance in both directions, we stepped out of the cover of the trees and hastened along. I kept imagining I heard footsteps, but whenever I looked back, there was nothing. As we reached the apex of the bridge, I half-expected to find a row of Royal Guardsmen blocking our path, but again there was nothing. I quickened my steps almost to a jog, looking longingly at the trees along the far bank of the river. Just a few more moments and we’d be safe.
    Then hoof beats clattered on the bridge behind us. I held my breath, hoping it was only my imagination or the beating of my heart. No, I could also hear laughter and the jangling of metal.
    “Quick, Donavah, run and hide,” Traz hissed. “I’ll stay on the road so at least there’s someone here, you know, in case they saw us.” He didn’t have to suggest it twice. I sped into the cover of the underbrush and tried to take slow, quiet breaths as the riders came into view. The Royal Guard! The countryside must have been crawling with them. Or else we were the unluckiest people alive.
    I crouched down behind a thick shrub and watched Traz. He seemed to have turned into a totally different person. He kicked up dust as he dawdled off the bridge and onto the road, whistling