SpringFire Read Free Page A

into rhythm, it made me dizzy; I lost my balance and almost fell, even though I was standing still.
    Grey seemed to stagger slightly, too, as he circled the edge of the small clearing. Our eyes locked for a moment and he shook his head. “Nothing,” he mouthed.
    “Where’s Yallick and everyone?” Traz’s voice crackled through the still air.
    “Shh!” Grey and I both hissed.
    Traz got to his feet and came to stand by Xyla and me. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked in a hushed whisper as he stroked her neck. He seemed finally to have caught on to our danger.
    “I don’t know,” I answered.
    Grey joined us, a knife in each hand. “I wish Chase were here,” he said. “I feel half-naked without my dog.” He looked around again. “Let’s go look in the cave. But carefully, quietly. And let me go first.”
    Traz glared at Grey’s back but followed. I fell in behind him as we crept toward the cave, nerves on edge to catch any sense of disruption. But nothing beyond the soft soughing of the wind in the trees.
    The cave mouth was huge, more like a gaping hole in the mountainside, and the cavern beyond was enormous—big enough to house Xyla and her brood of twenty-three, plus more than enough room for several people to live, too.
    Of course, the light from the opening didn’t shine far into that gigantic space. But it was still enough that we should’ve been able to see the place where we had our fire. And the ground should’ve been trampled down; people had been living there, after all, for several months. Instead, the ground just inside was deep with a layer of Autumn leaves blown in by Winter storms. The cave had a distinct air of disuse.
    Grey took a few steps inside. “It’s no use,” he said, coming back out. “I need some light.”
    “Oh! Of course!” I exclaimed. I unslung my pack and dug out my kit of meditation candles. “These ought to help.”
    We lit three and each took one. We’d lost the edge of our caution; surely, if anyone were watching and wanted to grab us, they would’ve done so already.
    Going back into the cave, we stayed together to pool the light. Once we were well inside, our eyes began to adjust to the darkness. We couldn’t see all the way across, but after one circuit, one thing was very clear: no one had been living here for many years. If ever.

    It was when we got back outside that something else dawned on me. There was no snow on the ground. How had I missed that before? It just couldn’t be. Although it was Spring, we’d recently had a late snowfall and the snow had been deep, except in the clearing and along the paths, where the passing to and fro of people all day every day had tramped it down.
    And now there was no sign of anyone anywhere. Not even the paths remained.
    Grey and Traz gathered firewood, while I returned to Xyla to check on her. She hadn’t stirred, but I could see her eyes moving under her lids as if she were having an agitated dream. I draped my arms around her, trying to coax some kind of response.
    By the time the others had gathered enough wood for the afternoon and night, and had gotten a fire roaring inside the cave, I’d grown cold and a little desperate to wake the dragon.
    “Xyla,” I called, using both my voice and my spirit to try to reach her. “Xyla, you must wake up.” It became a chant, and about the twentieth time I said this, her tail twitched. “Xyla!” I cried, putting as much passion into my tone as I could. “Xyla!”
    An eyelid fluttered open. An ear flicked.
    “Donavah.” Her voice inside my head was so weak that I almost didn’t catch it.
    “Xyla, dear. I’m here. Let’s go into the cave. It’ll be warmer there.”
    “Donavah? Warm?”
    “Come, my love.”
    “So tired.”
    “I know. But please. Get up. The cave is only a few steps away.”
    She lifted her head a little. “I do not know if I can make it.”
    “You can. I know you can. I will give you my strength.” As if that would help.
    But my