Broken Path, Starless Tail - 13. Chapter 13

By the time he was dry, Beckett and Valrinda had a long talk. Valrinda had flown all sorts of places, and he knew of the city that Beckett thought he’d seen, but he’d never been there. “I know the path at least.”

“Of course you do,” Beckett mumbled. “Wouldn’t make sense for you to be my guide if you didn’t.” This was all too coincidental—too easy—for him to believe it was real. Maybe he was in a coma. He did have a great imagination, one teacher had once said. Too bad real life, and his dad, was trying to squash that out of him.

Beckett closed his eyes, his back moving up and down slowly with each breath Valrinda took, and concentrated. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

“What’s that?” Hot, smoky air puffed against his face, and he opened his eyes to see Valrinda’s snout an inch from his nose.

He shouted, not squeaked, shouted in surprise and pushed Valrinda’s snout back, then said, “How are you doing that?”

“I’m very flexible,” Valrinda said proudly. “I always win the acrobatics in air contests too.”

“Sure you do,” Beckett said faintly. There was a long, quiet pause.

“What were you saying?” Valrinda asked again.

“Oh. Um, time to get up?” He carefully stood, but he was feeling much better after soaking in the pool. “Nice.”

“Ass better?” Valrinda moved too fast for Beckett to stop him. He ran a scaly paw down Beckett’s back and ass. “You’re standing looser, and the pain smell is just here.” He puffed a breath across the still red claw marks on Beckett’s chest.

“Personal space!” Beckett shouted. This dragon was too damn grabby and sniffy.

“What? Why?”

That brought him up short. Valrinda hadn’t done anything rude or inappropriate, really. He’d been showing concern and care, and… no. “Humans just like their own bubble. And for others to ask before invading it.”

Valrinda shuffled back a few steps, then shrugged. “Humans are weird.”

“They’re not the only thing,” Beckett mumbled, but he didn’t want to argue. He found his clothes and pulled them on. “Do you think it would be okay to go pack up some of the food in the house for the road? We should probably get going, right?”

“It is fine; it is for you, after all. I’ll wait out front.” Valrinda leapt into the air, flapping a few times which blew the grass sideways and Beckett’s hair into his eyes. He couldn’t see him, but his big body disappeared over the house and then a thump echoed over the quiet meadow.

“For me? Not going to explain that sentence are you? Nope, just says it’s for me and leaves. Just like he didn’t explain the damn vision.” Then again, Beckett had been too freaked out to ask. What kind of being had visions? Not a witch, if those were bad and he wasn’t one… but something.

Inside, Beckett rummaged around the small house until he found a sack with long handles. He piled in the food, trying to figure out what was harder and more preservable for the bottom and placing the delicate fruit and bread-like stuff on top. He couldn’t fit nearly all of the brightly colored food, so he grabbed a few fruits for his pockets and stuffed an orange square of fluffy stuff in his mouth that he started chewing on when he began packing the bag and was still chewing when he turned to shut the door behind him.

“Weady,” he said around his mouthful. “Whith way?”

“I’m going up. You go right.” Valrinda leapt into the air, his body pointed like an arrow down the path they needed to take. At least it was downhill. “Wooroo,” he lisped, finally swallowing the sticky mouthful and taking off after Valrinda’s departing shadow.

The path did not stay downhill for very long. It was warm, the dirt soft under his feet, and Beckett only had the one shirt so he pulled his off when he began to sweat. It stung his eyes, and he swiped an arm across his forehead. Who knew it was so humid under the trees? He thought it’d be breezy and cool, but it felt more stuffy and sticky than anything else.

Luckily there were enough breaks in the tropical foliage for him to keep a close eye on Valrinda who seemed to be enjoying his flight. Didn’t look nearly as hot up in the air. Ugh.

Okay, it could totally go back to the winter weather he’d first encountered when he stepped through the portal. Beckett wanted nothing more than to take a nap, but he knew he couldn’t. They didn’t have time, even if he did have a place.

So he plodded on, hot, sweaty, and sticky for long hours with no one to talk to; in the end, Beckett started talking to himself. “Oh, look at that flower. It’s that baby’s butt pink Mom likes; maybe I should pick her one and take it home. And that flower is orange like a pumpkin, and it even has spiraly bits like the stems. I wonder what that bug eats. Hope it’s not human.” The damn thing was the size of his palm and had something sharp protruding out of its head, like little horns or pincers that gleamed pale gold against the darker umber of its shelled head and abdomen.

Not five steps later he saw two that landed on the same wide-petaled blue flower, and one promptly stabbed the other right in the middle of the head between the horns and then lifted and shook its opponent, a huge mouth opening up and consuming the ooze that slid down from the wide crack.

“Ew.” Well, kinda cool, but also ew because Beckett had enough injuries and the last thing he wanted was a bug to stab him. Those horns had to be covered in something toxic if they used them like that. “Mom doesn’t need any infested fantasy flowers.”