Free AutumnQuest by Terie Garrison Page A

dragon shrank down to the size of the hatchling I’d held only days before.
    “Are you . . . ?” I started to ask.
    “I am Xyla. It is you.” She walked forward, right up to me, and rubbed her head against my thigh. “I found you.” The note of pride in her tone was unmistakable.
    But my crushing personal need overwhelmed my sense of surprise and confusion. “Water,” I said. “Thirsty.”
    “Not far. Follow.” I stumbled after her. As we moved away from what was left of the campfire, it grew quite dark. Any moonlight there might have been didn’t penetrate the thick canopy of trees overhead.
    It was terrifying to walk in the dark, hands tied behind my back and the rope still tight around my neck. Fortunately, this area of the forest was relatively free of underbrush, so I didn’t have to worry too much about branches slapping me in the face. Still, I hoped that Xyla’s definition of “not far” came somewhat close to matching mine. I didn’t know how much more strength I had in reserve. Several times I lost her in the darkness under the trees, but she always seemed to sense my panic and came back to me immediately.
    Finally, there came the sound of water trickling through the woods nearby. There, just ahead, was a stream.
    I fell to my knees, crying out in pain when one landed on a sharp stone. That made me lose my balance and fall onto my left side. Well, the only way to get a drink was by putting my face directly into the water, so I just rolled onto my stomach and wormed forward across the damp earth until my mouth reached the cold, flowing water.
    The first swallow was surely the best thing I’d ever tasted in my whole life. I lay there, alternately gulping down the fresh water and resting with my head next to the stream. And trying not to think about what had happened. I must have fallen asleep, because I awoke to a sharp pain in my wrist.
    “What?” I gasped, new fear welling up inside me.
    “Only me. Trying to free you.”
    Sure enough, as the sleep cleared out of my mind, I could feel Xyla awkwardly trying to chew through the rope binding my hands. “I am afraid I hurt you.”
    “Don’t worry. I don’t care if you have to chew my hands off entirely.”
    “No need for that. Not hungry.”
    I wondered whether she was trying to be funny or just stating a fact. She kept working at the rope, and by the time she’d managed to chew through, it felt as if she had taken my hands off.
    I bit back a yelp at the agony of blood rushing back where the flow had been restricted. First I clawed at the rope around my neck to loosen the slipknot and get it off. Then I used my elbows to push myself up to a sitting position, rubbing my hands together to try to bring them back to life.
    Eventually I could flex my fingers, and I shrugged off the pack and tried to open it. In the dark, with fingers that barely worked, it took awhile, but I finally managed to get the main section open.
    I drank more water, using the saucepan as a cup, and wolfed down some dried fruit. I could feel more than see the dragon watching me, although there was just enough moonlight for me to see pinprick glints from her eyes.
    “Are you better now?”
    “Yes. Thank you.” I shuddered as, once again, the memories of the day washed over me. “How did you find me? And why?”
    “I felt your presence last night. I wanted to find you again. You were kind to me before. Then I felt your fear. That made it easier to find you. Fear disturbs the vibrations.”
    Again, she was so matter-of-fact. As if she had no idea of the actual danger I’d been in. But then, she was only four days old, so she perhaps wouldn’t understand human danger anyway.
    “Rest now,” Xyla said, and all of a sudden I felt very sleepy, as if her speaking the words gave me the necessary permission. I drank more water, then moved away from the stream to a place where the ground was drier, curled up in my cloak, and fell asleep.

    When I awoke, Xyla lay along my back,