Read Online The Erth Dragons Book 1: The Wearle by Chris D'Lacey - Free Book Online
Authors: Chris D'Lacey
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sections of the climb. But when the trees thinned out and he was faced with a bumpy expanse of grass, his choices became severely limited. If a skaler flew over and he was forced to lie low, he would have to hope it mistook him for a solitary stone. A perilous risk to take. So he changed his mind and took the longer way round, keeping to those areas of bare grey rock where only the skinniest plants took hold and the shadows offered plenty of cover.
Despite the unevenness of the slope, he was able to travel freely for a while. But it wasn’t long before the mountain grew serious and the rise began to bow his back. The rocks made ever more awkward angles and their edges began to cut into his hands. And soon he was faced with another problem: snow. The higher he climbed, the more pockets he encountered. At first he ignored it and went scrambling up the incline like a young bleater; the Kaal were mountain people, used to living with cold conditions. But there came a point where every fingerhold burned. Worse, water had leaked into his boots. His toes no longer moved when he stretched them and his back was a growing arc of pain. If he didn’t complete his journey soon he would either have to go back to the settlement or make himself known to the next beast that flew over.
Luck was on his side, however. Not far ahead was a fresh crop of trees. They were set out in clusters of twos and threes. Their branches were sparse and offered poor cover, but no skaler, unless it came down to feed, was going to see him amongst them.
He checked the skies then ran for the nearest tree. It wasn’t easy. The slope was truly against him now and his knees had forgotten how to bend. Twice he stumbled, the second time kicking enough scree down the mountain to wake every beast from the ice lake to the sea. The rubble slid away and would not stop clattering. Ren plunged toward the treeline, getting there in time to see a purple skaler with a long white neck come soaring up the spur of the hill. It jerked its head at the trickle of stones, but didn’t stop to investigate. Ren sighed with relief and pressed back against a tree. A chance to rest and warm his hands.
Burying his fingers in the pits of his arms, he turned to see where the skaler had gone. It was well above the ridge, near the peak of the mountain, resting on an overhang beside another skaler. They snapped at each other as they shuffled for room. Then both of them turned toward the valley, their long tails flapping in the wind.
At the same time, a lengthy cry split the air. Ren jumped and covered his ears. The wail was so strong it shook the trees, sending down a shower of the dark green spikes that grew from their branches. A skaler had clearly made the sound, but it seemed to have come from within the mountain. The pair high above roared back in response. Ren’s heart began to thump in unison. He didn’t need to speak the skalers’ language to realise they were seized with excitement.
Blowing on his hands he moved into the open, scrabbling from one clump of trees to the next. A half-blind caarker might see him now, but the skalers seemed more concerned with what was happening on the far side of the ridge than in guarding this tiny part of their territory. At the last of the trees, Ren paused for breath, and looking up, he saw an amazing sight.
Two skalers, one white, one blue, appeared to be clashing in mid-air. They rolled as they approached one another at speed, disappearing from sight as a cloud exploded and the sky around them filled with rain.
Ren had never seen a spectacle like it.
He hurried on again, hugging the final bend in the hill that would take him swiftly to the top of the ridge. But at its steepest the hill puckered gently inward, and he was irritated to find that he needed to climb a short, almost vertical wall of rock. Desperate not to miss too much of the fight, he reached up and found the holds he needed. At no point did it occur to him that this might be a
Despite the unevenness of the slope, he was able to travel freely for a while. But it wasn’t long before the mountain grew serious and the rise began to bow his back. The rocks made ever more awkward angles and their edges began to cut into his hands. And soon he was faced with another problem: snow. The higher he climbed, the more pockets he encountered. At first he ignored it and went scrambling up the incline like a young bleater; the Kaal were mountain people, used to living with cold conditions. But there came a point where every fingerhold burned. Worse, water had leaked into his boots. His toes no longer moved when he stretched them and his back was a growing arc of pain. If he didn’t complete his journey soon he would either have to go back to the settlement or make himself known to the next beast that flew over.
Luck was on his side, however. Not far ahead was a fresh crop of trees. They were set out in clusters of twos and threes. Their branches were sparse and offered poor cover, but no skaler, unless it came down to feed, was going to see him amongst them.
He checked the skies then ran for the nearest tree. It wasn’t easy. The slope was truly against him now and his knees had forgotten how to bend. Twice he stumbled, the second time kicking enough scree down the mountain to wake every beast from the ice lake to the sea. The rubble slid away and would not stop clattering. Ren plunged toward the treeline, getting there in time to see a purple skaler with a long white neck come soaring up the spur of the hill. It jerked its head at the trickle of stones, but didn’t stop to investigate. Ren sighed with relief and pressed back against a tree. A chance to rest and warm his hands.
Burying his fingers in the pits of his arms, he turned to see where the skaler had gone. It was well above the ridge, near the peak of the mountain, resting on an overhang beside another skaler. They snapped at each other as they shuffled for room. Then both of them turned toward the valley, their long tails flapping in the wind.
At the same time, a lengthy cry split the air. Ren jumped and covered his ears. The wail was so strong it shook the trees, sending down a shower of the dark green spikes that grew from their branches. A skaler had clearly made the sound, but it seemed to have come from within the mountain. The pair high above roared back in response. Ren’s heart began to thump in unison. He didn’t need to speak the skalers’ language to realise they were seized with excitement.
Blowing on his hands he moved into the open, scrabbling from one clump of trees to the next. A half-blind caarker might see him now, but the skalers seemed more concerned with what was happening on the far side of the ridge than in guarding this tiny part of their territory. At the last of the trees, Ren paused for breath, and looking up, he saw an amazing sight.
Two skalers, one white, one blue, appeared to be clashing in mid-air. They rolled as they approached one another at speed, disappearing from sight as a cloud exploded and the sky around them filled with rain.
Ren had never seen a spectacle like it.
He hurried on again, hugging the final bend in the hill that would take him swiftly to the top of the ridge. But at its steepest the hill puckered gently inward, and he was irritated to find that he needed to climb a short, almost vertical wall of rock. Desperate not to miss too much of the fight, he reached up and found the holds he needed. At no point did it occur to him that this might be a
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