The Witch and the Dragon - Beta

Chapter Thirteen

The forest, when it re-appeared, hadn't changed. A dream?

She wrapped her hand around the warm hilt of the sword and felt its weight in her palm. "Not a dream."

"Unfortunately not," said Dameon, dryly. "And now we have to defeat an evil sorcerer?"

She turned to face him. "It's not like I'm over the moon, either." All she wanted was to go home, but she couldn't leave William in the grip of the Fae. Or the princess. "It's all your fault, anyway," she said. "If you hadn't attacked my village, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"So you're saying I have to help you kill this warlock as some king of penance?" he asked.

She put her hands on her hips and blew a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Well you should, but if all you're going to do is complain, you can leave. I'll handle this myself." She felt more capable now, dressed properly and with a decent sword at her hip. She let her body relax into its normal stance, revelling in the warmth of her new clothes and solid leather boots.

Dameon eyed her. "I have no doubt you could," he agreed. "You're the bravest princess I've ever captured."

She frowned at him. "I'm not a princess."

"Not by blood, maybe," he said. "But by heart? I'm not so sure."

He was watching her, but there was no trace of mockery in his gaze. A flattering dragon she could handle - charm was something she'd grown immune to over years of fending off handsy men at the tavern - but a sincere dragon she didn't know what to do with.

Ignoring the way her cheeks heated, Alannah tightened her leather belt. "Are you coming or not?" she asked, hoping for... she didn't know what.

"I'll come," he said and a part of her eased when he said it. Alannah could handle anything this forest could throw at her, but it would be nice to know she had someone to watch her back. "And as much as I'm sure you don't need my help, dragon fire might come in handy."

"You can transform again?"

He nodded. "There's no restriction on my magic in this realm." He stretched, raising both arms over his head. "Besides, I haven't faced a warlock in years. I don't want to get rusty."

"When we find him, you can take a chunk out of his hide," promised Alannah. They just had to find him first.

Behind her was the forest as she knew it; dusty light rays and dappled green canopy, lilting birdsong and the rustle of woodland creatures. Ahead, though, the trees grew so tightly together that only a trickle of sickly light made it through. The branches looked black and the birdsong halted at the wood's border. The place seemed deathly still.

"No wonder they call it Darkwood."

"What, frightened?" she asked.

A snort. "Dragons don't fear darkness."

Alannah shrugged and pushed her way inside. The sound didn't cut off immediately, as she'd half expected it to. Instead it faded incrementally as she moved deeper into the dark heart of the forest.

Movement behind her and she heard Dameon's voice. "How are we going to find him? Can we use your thread again?"

She paused for a second as something occurred to her. "Can't you smell anything?" she asked, in lieu of answering straight away. "Dragon's noses are pretty strong, I hear. They must be, if you can smell gold and princesses."

He grumbled. "Most princesses are scentable by that damn lavender oil they all use. And all I smell in here is green: trees and grass." He sniffed audibly. "And old smoke," he added, in a more contemplative tone, "like charred wood."