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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Broken Path, Starless Tail - 25. Chapter 25

They were not staying in an inn or anywhere else Beckett could have gotten food or something to drink. He should have known better. The wisps seemed to be universally unpopular. Instead he was sitting on the floor of a ramshackle building that looked like it would fall down around his head if he moved wrong or even breathed too hard.

The wisps had all grouped together in a giant pile and they were glowing as they chanted. He watched with nervous anticipation and hoped that something happened soon. This room was dark and gloomy, which was probably great for hiding, but all he wanted to was find Valrinda, find the star, and get home.

Smothering his gasp with one hand, hoping he didn’t distract the wisps, Beckett struggled with the stomach punch of a sudden realization if he found Parallax’s star and took it home to him, he’d lose Valrinda.

The real world certainly had no room for a magical dragon with scales and wings. Their nights snuggled together with Valrinda warming him with his wings curled protectively around him or the days he’d been given the gift of flying on his back would become nothing but a distant memory that would be consumed then obliterated by a boring, grown up life.

He grit his teeth. No! He didn’t want that to happen. Beckett was tired, and hungry, scared out of his mind, and still happier than he’d been in the last year since his dad had started pressuring him. He was free in a way he’d never been before. He knuckled his eyes, taking deep breaths.

“Found him!” The wisps cried, their voices merged together in an echoing jumble. Beckett was pulled to his feet, and he stumbled as pins and needles stung his abused legs from sitting still for too long.

“Come,” the ones holding his hand repeated over and over.

“This way, we found him!” The others milled around them, and he winced when they wacked right into the stone walls. Dust, or more frightening, the mortar chinked between the ancient stones also crumbling, filled the air. His nose tickled and he sneezed twice, yanking his hands away from the wisps.

“Slow down,” Beckett said, wiping his nose on the back of his arm. “Where is he? Did that thing on the road attack him?”

“Shh! Come!” They pulled at his clothes and pushed him and generally shoved him out of the hovel and onto the street. He blinked, blinded by the sun that had cleared the buildings and woken the city. People were moving now, going about their business. The chill was already gone, heat building from the blazing sun and lack of shade in the desert city.

He tried to use his brain since the wisps were not giving him any say in where his body was going. They’d disappeared when the huge beast charged them with that human on his back… huge beast. It’d been way too big to create the hole in the barn they’d been in. So it wasn’t that.

Then what had attacked them? He’d just slapped evil guy, obvious star thief on the human’s head since he acted like a douche nozzle and came off all high and mighty, plus he knew shit he shouldn’t know if he wasn’t in on the whole thing. He squinted, chewing his lip, growling in frustration. The imp on his right squeaked, squeezing his hand.

“It’s far, hurry, hurry. The great one is moving away, and you must catch up to him!”

“Great one.” Beckett rolled his eyes, but he tried to put on some more speed. For little guys, the wisps were damn fast. Fine grit ground across his forehead when he wiped away the sweat stinging his eyes as he panted and strained to keep up with them for longer than he expected it would take to even cross the entire city. “Are you leading me in circles?”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Maybe?” another squeaked. “We follow the chains.”

“How?”

“Feel them.” The wisps in front of him patted their chests, eyes closed.

“Could Val be flying?” Beckett squinted as he looked upward, straining to catch a glimpse of his dragon on the high rising thermals despite the lack of even a ribbon of white clouds to hide his sleek, dark form.

The wisps shook their heads in unison. “No, too close.”

“We would have seen him if he was close!” Beckett exploded. “Even with all these damn people and buildings crammed in here like a fucking sweatbox, we wouldn’t miss a black dragon.” People had gotten out of their way the day before or risked being stepped on and slightly smooshed. “Where is he?” He rubbed his forehead, trying to stave off the dizziness. His chest still ached, his head hurt, and nothing he did could make the pain go away.

Nothing except find Valrinda. The wisps said they were close, and he believed them, so what was he missing? The brick buildings and brick streets couldn’t stop the desert from sending in the fine dust from outside the walls. It piled up in corners and trickled down in holes between the pavers…

Holes between the stones. If Valrinda could smash through a wall, could he or his attacker have smashed into the road, or under it?

“Fuck. Of course I have to go looking for underground tunnels.” He swallowed hard. “Are there tunnels here?” he asked louder. He prayed they would say no, but by their excitement as they began towing him around again, he knew the answer was yes.

Worse, the ugliest creature he’d ever seen, emitting the most disgusting smell, was guarding the entrance to what was clearly a tunnel into a basement, which no one would bother guarding, or an underground labyrinth of tunnels that his dragon was trapped in.

“Guess which one you’re about to explore?” Beckett muttered.

Copyright © 2023 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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What happened to his never-ending water flask? Also, it amuses me that Beckett doesn’t realize he’s stopped thinking of this adventure as a dream. 

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Here's hoping October has more Wednesdays than this lonely one in September.

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