Free Phoenix by Finley Aaron Page A

back to the plateau, only to find Ram and Nia wrapped up in the bearskin together.
    Granted, she’s shivering. And it is insanely cold up here on the mountain, in Siberia, with the sun going down.
    I toss an elk at Ram in what might be slightly more of a fling than a toss, so that he has to jump out from the bearskin to catch the animal, and the elk’s haunches slap his face in an undignified manner, and when I glance at him next he’s probing his nose as though checking to make sure it’s not broken.
    Well. Now I feel better. I switch into human form and draw my swords, swiftly butchering the other elk while casting a glance at Ram.
    He’s skinning the carcass I tossed him, but he shoots me a look that says he’s not happy with me.
    And why not? Because he wasn’t quick enough to neatly catch the supper I brought back for him? (His nose is not broken, by the way.) Or is his unhappy look because he thinks I ran away with Nia, or kidnapped her—neither of which I actually did.
    Or is he angry with me because deep down, he knows he would have slept through Nia’s escape, that the yagi would have killed her by now if I hadn’t intervened?
    But instead of being grateful for my help, he resents it.
    Ram is a perfectionist. That means he always has to be perfect, or he gets grumpy.
    Whatever. He can go right ahead and be imperfectly grumpy while I woo Nia away from him. I shall be charming and helpful and kind, and he can be the grouchy perfectionist who isn’t nearly as perfect as he likes to think he is, and when our journey is over our father will tell him he should be more like me, instead of the other way around, as always before.
    I blow a blast of fire to roast a meaty leg for Nia before Ram even has his carcass skinned. I hand Nia the roast leg with a little bow, and she smiles and thanks me. Then I roast a leg for myself.
    While I suppose it would be faster to eat in dragon form, we need to discuss our plans. I can’t see the yagi horde approaching, not even with my dragon vision, but I know they’re out there. Of course they are.
    “What are we going to do to get away from the yagi?” I ask, being purposely pleasant, thus forcing Ram to either be pleasant back or look like a jerk. “We’ve got to sleep—soon—and for more than just a couple hours each. If we could make it to the ocean, we could sleep while floating.”
    But Nia shakes her head vigorously, swallowing a bite of meat before explaining, “They’re in the sea. Not the same yagi you’re used to, but another kind.”
    “The water yagi? Like the ones in the lake near the cave? We call them water yagi,” I explain, letting her know we’re familiar with the creatures.
    Nia nods. “I have been transporting them for the white witch.”
    Ram inserts himself into the conversation with a glance my way that says he won’t be left out. “Are they in the ocean? We only ever encountered them in Black Sea and the Caspian Sea, besides Eudora’s little lake.”
    Nia looks apologetic. “I’ve made many deliveries to the Sea of Okhotsk. It is the closest point of entry to the interconnected oceans of the world, so it was the most efficient point of delivery. The white witch feared her lake was becoming overwhelmed and she wanted her creatures delivered as swiftly as possible. She had me make many, many deliveries here. The water yagi will be plentiful in this area—even more plentiful than in the Black Sea or Caspian Sea.”
    I wince at her prognosis. I can’t blame Nia—she was only doing what she had to do—but at the same time, I don’t know how we’re going to rest. We simply can’t take the risk of sleeping anywhere they might catch up to us, or we’ll wake up unable to move.
    Maybe she was right. Maybe there is no escape from the yagi.
    But even if there isn’t any escape, even if they’re bound to catch up to us eventually, I’m not going to give up and let Nia turn herself over to them. If they are going to bring me down, I intend