Mate of the Dragon Read Online Free PDF Page B

was right, the light was beginning to fade and they had no idea what hunted in these woods at night.
    He placed his hand on the old wooden door and pushed it open. It didn’t move at first, the hinges rusted from lack of use. That made him feel better. If it was well used and well oiled, they might be in danger; as it was, he was confident there was no one inside, and he opened the door wide and went inside.
    A musty smell hit him. The cabin certainly was deserted, but the roof looked sound; at least it didn’t look as though it were about to fall down around them. He felt Tara at his back, trying to peer around him, so he took another step inside and allowed her entry.
    “It looks safe enough,” he said, seeing the relief on her face.
    “Great. Maybe there is water close by. You wouldn’t build a cabin too far from a water source, surely.”
    “Once I’ve checked this place out thoroughly, I’ll go and see.” He then systematically went over every inch of the cabin.
    “There’s a bed. Some matches, and some tins of some sort. Not sure what, or how old they are.” She picked a tin up and shook it, the label had come off and there was nothing to say it was edible.
    “Leave them. We use only what’s safe, and it’s not exactly polite to help ourselves to someone else’s stuff.”
    “Like anyone would care,” she said, but replaced it all the same. “I mean, look at this place. It hasn’t been used for decades.”
    “Maybe we’ll find the skeleton of the previous inhabitants out there somewhere.”
    “Why would you say that?” she said accusingly.
    “Maybe the person who built this cabin was sent here in the same way. Tara, the dryads sent us here. If we have no way of getting out, we have to try to build a life here.”
    “No!” She shook her head furiously. “I cannot believe that. We will find a way out.”
    But her face told him she was beginning to come around to that exact way of thinking. The forest was so featureless. There was no sign of anything other than trees, no real animal trails, and no sounds other than a few birds tweeting in the distance.
    “I’ll go and check for water,” he said and left her to shake the musty sheets on the bed. He didn’t want to watch her cry, and he didn’t need to hear the hoarseness of her voice. He simply wanted to provide food and water for her, in the hope that this small gift might make her feel better.
    Back outside, he took in a large lungful of fresh air. It smelt no different from that of the air in Spellholm. Even the trees looked the same as those that surrounded the Stronghold, trees he had looked upon for centuries. Some he had watched grow from tiny saplings to mighty oaks, beech trees that showered you in beech mast when the summer breeze blew through their branches. How he missed his home.
    “Sentimental fool,” he said to himself, heading out around the back of cabin.
    More trees. That was what struck him as he walked around the perimeter of the cottage. But Tara was right; there must be water here somewhere. No one would build a cabin and then have to walk miles every day to fetch water.
    He stood still, hands on hips, devising a plan. Then he began to walk the perimeter again, on each turn he took ten steps away from the cabin and went around again. His circles began to get ever bigger, and then, just as he thought it was a ridiculous thing for a dragon lord to be doing, he was rewarded by the faint sound of water trickling out of the ground.
    Carefully, he began to explore the ground until he found what he was looking for. A small spring bursting out of the earth, running for only around ten feet above ground and then disappeared into some rocks.
    Kneeling, he took a handful of the clear, cool water and smelt it. Then he dipped his tongue in it; the water tasted perfect. Beyond perfect, to his parched mouth. So he risked a mouthful, swallowing it down and sitting back on his haunches to see if his body went into a sudden, deathly