hiraeth

thirty-three

xxxiii. Nia

The dragon dropped them into a lava tube on the other side of the volcano, the diameter wide enough to accommodate its size but only extending for a few yards. The incline hadn't been steep, but the landing had been rough, and Nia and Peter wince as they lean against the cave walls for support, skin sure to be bruised in the coming hour.

It's her fascination with the creature that keeps her fear in check, but she suspects Peter is up in arms with worry. She glances quickly to her left and his jaw clicks.

"What do you want with us?" he snipes. "We're not here to disturb you."

"Chill," Nia says. "It's not doing anything."

"Yet."

"Pessimist."

"Realist," he retorts. "I know where we are now."

"Great. Neverland? Oz?"

"Uh, do you see a yellow brick road?"

"nonono, you're supposed to look for dorthy's red shoes so we can escape"

"that wasn't--" Peter sighs. "so what, you're going to grab her feet?"

"slice her ankles. slash her down."

"you can't just slice innocent people-"

"that's debatable"

"And like hell am I wearing sparkly ass slippers," Peter argues.

"Oh, woe is me. I'll go home by myself then"

"well we can't exactly share the slippers so that's a given."

She shrugs. "Nah I'd give you one shoe so we'd match. then I'd tap your foot three times with mine"

"That's awful"

"It's brilliant"

"Get down."

"Wh-"

Too late, Nia spots the green glow emitting from the dragon's neck. It opens its mouth, evidently tired of their bs

"Get down!" Peter repeats, shoving her shoulder.

Her eyes scrunch together as they hit the floor, a searing heat washing over their backs. Gas. Chemicals. Fire.

Cheek pressed into the dirt, Nia catches a large ruby in her periphery, winking at her in a pile of glittering gold. She willfully ignores the skeleton propped up beside it. "Wait!" she screeches, her hair singed. "Wait! We can--We can do you a favour! A...a jewel! A diamond??" The heat melts into the air, no longer boiling but sticky with warmth. Nia peeks up through her lashes. Peter's hold on her doesn't loosen, a warning signal to stay put. "You like to hoard things, right? Is there something you want? Something we can get for you?"

"Nia," hisses Peter. "not a good time to strike a bargain"

"You collect things," she insists. "Come on. There must be something"

"Can it even talk?" Peter asks. "Not that I'd be surprised.

"'It,'" says the dragon, tone clipped, "can speak."

"There we go"

Nia is over talking animals. "What's your name?"

"I do not need jewels." the dragon settles onto the ground, but neither of them take this as an invitation to stand. "But perhaps you're right. Perhaps you can do me a favour before I burn you down."