A fire made of anger and weariness flared up in my veins.
"Why? That's not much to ask!"
"You can't negotiate, little mouse princess."
'Damn lizard!' I thought, my hand clenching into a fist on my knee.
An inhuman hiss rose from the recesses of that inhuman body, a hand slammed over the entrance and claws harder than diamond wounded the rocks.
"That's the third time you've called me that, rat."
How did he know... Oh, right! The mental link thing. How mental.
"And you call me rat." I pointed out.
"That's what you are," he snapped, eyes on me.
Had he counted how many times I called him lizard?
"Yes, I counted them. No one has ever dared to call me that in my entire existence, rat."
"You've called me rat at least ten times," I should have counted them too.
Was this situation going to end in a creepy way for me? Part of me thought I could sneak away and escape. Go back to my village and fill the chair, not leave another empty space around the family table. Another part was sure that the creepiness of the situation would grow exponentially. There was another part of me, tiny, ignorable and rather silly, that felt a morbid attachment to this being.
Perhaps insulting him, even just in the privacy of my own head, was not a good strategy if I needed his help in finding Gianni....
Extinguishing my own fire, saving it for later, I licked my chapped lips, finding my mouth suddenly dry, my gaze always held by his. "You look smarter than a lizard."
"Smarter than a lizard? Ah, what a praise."
Forearm leaning against the wall, he leaned toward the entrance, a silver lock fell over his forehead.
I thought I heard the cave creaked as he leaned his bulk frame against it. "You know what I am, you have known my true self." His voice sounded like music from a time long gone.
I closed my eyes and covered my ears. I did not want to hear him speak-about the other thing.
"I will stop calling you lizard if you stop calling me mouse," I pointed at him then to my chest and he followed the move with those beaming eyes.
"A compromise. Have you ever heard of the word?" I bet he hadn't.
"No, I haven't, mouse."
I rolled my eyes. "Why did you call me rat anyway? I'm not a-" His grin flashed huge fangs-his features transformed slightly. He seemed to... I swallowed. Features seemed sharper, more scales popped out all over his neck and cheekbones.
Those rare smiles did not match the harshness of his predatory features. "You look like one. You are one."
"Of course," I said with sarcasm that barely concealed the tremor in my voice. "And you look like a lizard."
Lie. He didn't.
There was nothing in common with this frighteningly beautiful, or beautifully scary-looking being.
His nostrils quivered. "Why don't you come out so you can judge for yourself?"
I shuddered at the gaze glued on me. "No. I'm fine here."
"We have no problems with time. I've never had any and soon you won't either."He spoke with an air of authority, as if he truly could promise me such things. He probably could though.
I struggled to manage his eyes on me, so I slowly stood up in that cave that resembled the throat of a crocodile (or a dragon) and tried to dislodge a fierce-looking stone.
He followed my movement without blinking, his living lips in a straight line. I grabbed the gem-covered stone, perhaps to keep myself occupied under that predatory gaze, perhaps to put something between me and him, albeit a small stone.
A sharp pain cut off my breath. I moaned when I saw a deep cut in my palm, gushing blood. I cradled my hand to my chest.
A snort diverted my attention from the throbbing pain. He had brought his palm up and studied it for a few seconds... His was bleeding.
It seemed to be the first time he had ever seen such a thing. Or that such thing had ever happened.
He frowned, eyes flickered to me before he licked the wound slowly, from top to bottom, those half-lidded eyes rose to catch mine once again. That feral look made me throb.
"Give me your hand." He said, voice hoarse.
I scoffed, "Do you think I'm stupid?"
He chuckled. His laugh was hoarse, as if it was an unusual sound he never made. "I think you are perfect..."
My heart swelled, my core pulsed.
"...Mouse."
My lips flattened. A tingling sensation made me gasp. Blood dripped to the ground.
He clicked his tongue, eyes searching the cave. "You hide under the only rocks I can't destroy."
He sighed, straightening up and crossing his arms.
"Because your fire's weak." I don't know what made me say that.
As soon as the words left my mouth, and I couldn't catch them back, his head snapped toward me.
It almost seemed as if a fist made of air and fury had hit me. I fell backwards, my butt hit the hard floor.
"Ouch," I squeezed my eyes shut as a thousand tiny sharp teeth of gems and minerals broke my skin.
His nostrils flared, a satanic aura seemed to descend upon him, enveloping him.
Dry blood that still covered him seemed to fry from an internal heat and evaporated. His eyes turned a reddish shade, devouring pupils and white.
"Mmmh, stupid rat, now you've made me angry." He drawled, almost disappointed; that voice almost didn't match his manner.
I did not await to see what he meant.
I swirled, ignoring the sting from my on-the-rise scratches, and slid down the labyrinth of tunnels.
I had to be sideways for as much as it narrowed down.
With diamonds and crystals glittering the crocodile's throat, my path into the stomach of the cave would have been a mystical experience, without being digested.
Strange drawings populated the walls.
Shapes never seen before, not even in my forgotten nightmares, drawn with a blue tint, were everywhere.
These caricatures could have been human if weren't for horns, tails, claws. Some were on all fours, others climbed pointy mountains, a few were flying.
Scenes from the daily lives of cold-blooded creatures. There was a nest with eggs painted in red too.
I kept fast walking, the little light from the ceiling and the reflections of gems scattered around was enough to illuminate the cave and the art within.
Smaller burrows, at different heights, often interrupted the procession of drawings. I hoped there was an exit somewhere but I didn't want to crawl through those tunnels that led who knows where... maybe into the stomach or maybe into the crocodile-cave's brain.
I explored until I saw a particular scene that froze me.
A stylized, blue dragon with disproportionate fangs and claws pointing up. Beside him was something that resembled a man, with wings in display and horns almost longer than his own body.
That wasn't what blocked me.
Their mouths were wide open, facing upward.
My chin lifted, gaze followed the direction. I gasped.
There were women with horns and tails holding baskets. They were lined up, maybe in a procession.
When they reached the end of the path, at the tip of a ravine, the baskets were facing downward.... and smaller people or pieces of people were thrown down. Most fell inside the two awaiting mouths, others kept falling. None touched the ground.
Snakes and caricatures of what looked like little monsters with beards and crosses for eyes grabbed the rest.
One struck me in a strange way.
A semi-crocodile sat spread-legged, one leg being gnawed off, a pile of limbs and bones to the side.
I took a step back only to be stopped by the wall as if it forced me to stand near those grotesque drawings.
Letters I didn't recognize, maybe Cyrillic, were carved above. I swallowed and wrapped my neck. A restlessness dug into me and filled the empty spaces with fear.
Suddenly there was a growl, a familiar one, that shook me to the core... and fire.
Blue fire everywhere.
I cried out in pain only to realize that fire was not hurting me. Burning, maybe, but not hurting.
Flames brushed, almost washed over me, as if they were strokes of an angry sea, compassionate with me only yet punitive.
Animals and birds screeched in despair while being roasted alive. They weren't the only victim of these flaming waters.
I glanced, lips pointing down, in revulsion and dismay, as the ceiling of the cave began to melt before my eyes. Gems rained around me.
I fell to my knees and covered the back of my head. My eyes met those of the caricature of the blue dragon, about to devour a person, melting.
It looked like he was crying.
When smoke rose, I shut my eyes firmly and choked back a sob, tears streamed down my face before evaporating with the gory history of these drawings.
All those precious minerals began to melt into nothingness.
The rock became liquid, as if the cave was crying, in pain.
Just as I will surely be very soon...
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