“You can walk?”The shadows around him receded for a moment. Besides the dragon, only the wind was left alive outside. He grimaced, gasped, wheezed in sharp, mortal pain, the air sharp nails. Yet he lived and not from happenstance. Like his master had taught him, he had reinforced the bones around his sensitive organs. He still could draw breath. That was all he needed. No mind was paid to the death screams of his body. He mumbled arcane phrases, flailed his arms, crooked his fingers, tried and tried again to get the spell to work. The world around him got darker, dizziness spread, his arms quivered and nothing came. His eyes did not widen, his breaths stayed steady. It was not the first time. Sorcery was hard, even without ruptured organs. He had the power, the mana, knew what he wanted to happen where, made the gestures, said the words. It would work. His savior watched the dark world around them a with calm disinterest and stomped away. He saw the broad, finned tail of hers disappear in the direction of the hut.

  “Here. For your trouble.” Her voice rumbled inside, coins clattered.

  “Itzil does not know if you planned to give her up too. But she does not care about might-have-beens and hates owing debts more than she hates spending money.”A quieter, female voice replied. “What about the necromancer?”The beast let loose a derisive snort. “Itzil had no talk with him. But Itzil likes his delicate frame, his nervous stutter. He can pay if he wants, but if you lay hands on him again, she will kill you.”“...I see.”“Funny human expression. You do not ‘see’ that they just might have killed you. Leave with Itzil. It's for your best.”“We have a house and a reputation to keep.”“They will not spare you after this.”"Better to take our chances than to live like an animal, unbound and hunted, vogelfrei."She snarled. “You believe that sharing the same pink skin keeps you safe when they are out for death. Believe differently.””We will not be tempted by the darkness and its gods, beast.”Her stomps went about, pounding against the silence.

  By now, the wizard had managed to save his life. A foul ooze squirmed out of his chest and sides, sanguine sweat mixed with bonemeal and shredded intestines. The smell of fouled lamp oil pervaded the air. He groaned in pain and snapped after breath as he forced himself on his feet, while what was still good and salvageable stitched itself together with an unseen magical string. His flesh, skin, bones and nerves rippled and bubbled still like boiling soup as they struggled for space inside the confines of his body, the process yet unfinished. He was barely done brushing the earth and dirt away as the drake arrived, his rucksack, sleeping bag and books in her arms. From inside the hut, he could see the hateful glances as the couple cast dagger in her back. Like granite statues, they did not move.

  “Thanks.” He said. Without a word, she ruffled through his stuff and handed him one of his linen wraps and austere robes, then placed the bag before him. The wizard took a closer look. Her maw was rough, stained with guts and blood. Tips of her saurian teeth peaked out of it, glinted in the embers' light like terrible gems. At least the haunting, almost avian eyes were up front, not to the sides. It gave him something to cling to, unlike with the other beast people, where his gaze slid off uncanny, twisted faces. But she refused to be held and the golden pools always trailed off, into the unkown, as if something was out there, or inside her, that drew her away to dark places. The draconic creature still remained silent as she gave him the backpack, lit one of her lanterns and walked into the woods without another word.“Hey, just wait a moment!” He shouted. “We have barely talked!” His eyes glanced at her passing, the rapidly shrinking light and the traitorous hosts. A cold thought crept up his spine, pulled him back, towards the house. “I should kill them.” It would be a mercy. The Inquisition was worse than a clean, quick death. But then, he remembered his monstrous savior. If she hadn't killed them, he couldn't. He took a deep breath of air and followed the lantern's fire again.

  The drake, when she had set her towering frame into motion, belied her size. Her step left barely an imprint on the muddy ground and the forest's trees closed in her wake like dark waters, while he sunk into the mud and stinging brambles, staggered against whipping branches and stones. As he struggled to keep up, his head began to spin, dizzy from the bloodletting. The uniform darkness blended trees, stones, patches of green or mud together in a fleeting yet eternal void of green, brown and black. He never had been a friend of the wilderness. Only as the river's thunder reached their ears, a certain ease filled him again, despite the roiling, dirtied mire that awaited them. From their side of the bank's slope, only darkness could be seen. His new ally stopped. He leaned on a tree and wheezed. “That will do.” she stated. “Are you strong enough to make a bridge across? We might shake their dogs and seer off that way, tomorrow. No sense in going further till the sun rises, however. Itzil can’t stand the cold and a dark river carries unseen dangers.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Now the wizard smiled. With one snap of his fingers, he summoned a glowing, cold ball of light in his hand. “No need to wait, my dear dragon.” He waved it around, grinning at the power in his fingertips. “I can ward you against the cold, too."

  She nodded, moved - but he shook his head immediately after. “But first I need to say some words and ask questions. May I, please?”Her head bopped. “Time has given us some of her children.”He took that as a yes. “Alright, first off: Thanks again. For saving me. My name’s Xunathos, by the way. I think i know yours, right?"No answer. The creature just blinked, waited."Alright, Itzil? Second, why did you just run off into the dark?”“Thus, our enemies will not know our destination. And Itzil knows the Inquisition will know everything those two know soon enough.”He chuckled. “Sounds like a great way to eat me without any witnesses. Forgive my apprehension, but I saw what you did with that bastard friar.”Her rigid, reptilian face did not twitch and her voice was as even as it ever got as she replied. “You are soft and tasty, human.”With no warning, she moved closer. The reptilian tongue spread wet, sticky slobber across her maw. Up close, the teeth were even more terrible. He took a step back. But so did she, giving a peculiar, chortling sound. “But if she wanted to, Itzil would have eaten you on the spot, after the priest. If she was concerned about witnesses, she'd kill and larder those weakling hosts next. The world already knows she is a monsters before they know her; no need to hide anything. After the river, we can go where you want us to go.”

  And with that, she turned to face the shadows that lay ahead. He hesitated. Sure, this all might be a trick. But right now, he’d take it in good faith. If only because she seemed to know how to pull off an escape from the Inquisition successfully. He made another attempt at conversation.“Why then did you decide to help me?”For the first time, she used a human gesture, a shrug. “You heard the other humans. They were trying to kill Itzil too. She put her hopes in united strength. If she had waited, she would have been next. To help was gainful. Besides, rescuing educated boys like you is often rewarded by their rich, noble parents.” To Xunathos, the voice was flat, without affect, just a dark rumble that drowned all nuance. Were these a joke? But he had heard her admire his frail body. Was that a coy flirt? But she did not regard him with any affection now. An admission of greed? Perhaps. He could not tell. He chuckled.

  “Well, I must disappoint you. My parents, keeper of the honored demesian tradition of slave raids behind the imperial borders, died in honored demesian tradition. By my hands, the moment the inheritance contract was sealed. The rest of my family has disowned me.” He stated, not without some pride. “But worry not, I can offer you a little something once we get to the patrinomy i gave into the hands of my masses. I am a indeed a nobleman, of sorts. I must warn you, though: In defending me, you've indeed risked the ire of the law and the empire. The priest spoke truth there.”She bopped her skull. “Itzil defended herself. Itzil does not care that it was a crime to resist. The empire’s inky letters are for humans and their slaves to obey. If they let themselves be marched to misery and the grave, let them! Itzil will fight.”The necromancer frowned. If the creature had unwise notions, they deserved to be dispelled. “You might try. But they are many. You aren't even few. You are... you. One. How can one stand against the might of billions? She can not.”"She does it the way she fights now: After her strike, she runs away, fast. Then, she strikes again."

  He nodded, a grim look of determination on his face. "Hmm... I might have something for you. After we cross the river. Let's hurry, got to lose our scent." He smiled. " With the greatest of demesian luxuries... frigida lova - cold baths."The reptile shuddered.