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“Good idea, m’lord.”
“Leave the cave?” a bat squeaked.
“Who be a’needing it?” Thernadad barked. “Snakes and misery and too many bats lately.” He glared at his mate.
“E’be our host! W’be coming along,” Mamedi said, fluttering toward the river.
“Mum! Mum!” Thernadad shouted. He alighted on the chain hanging by the river mouth, then turned to search the tunnel and cavern beyond. “W’mustn’t leave without m’mum!”
“Past her time, anyway,” Enjor said, turning circles over the river.
“Mum!”
“’Ere me be!” a tiny voice squeaked. “M’been clinging for life to this fool dragon.”
A trio of snakes followed as quickly as coils could carry them.
“Unless you want to swim, madam…” the Copper said.
Thernadad flapped down and alighted on the Copper’s back. “Here, Mum, climb on.”
She launched herself into the air. “M’be all right for a bit.”
The Copper slid into the river, hugged his limbs to his side, and let his tail rather stiffly propel him through the water. He found that if he took a full breath of air, he could sink and let just his head ride above the waterline.
He gave a glance back and saw a snake plunge into the water, but its fellows clustered at the bank.
With a bend, a dropped shoulder, and a wave of his tail, the Copper rounded on his pursuer, and the snake fled upstream.
The bats fluttered overhead. For all the elbow throwing and head butting they did when clinging to the rock ceiling, they maneuvered in the air expertly, avoiding outcroppings of rock, the river surface—and a hatchling’s tiny crest.
They left the brighter mosses of the tunnel for a dim line of growth that existed at the edge of the river, clinging to the rough-hewn tunnel. Every now and then the tunnel widened and the lines fell away before coming together again where tool-work scarred the rock.
At one “lake,” Enjor swooped down and guided him toward an outflow. Colored lights glimmered across the lake, reds and blues and oranges, but he had no desire to investigate and risk another encounter with dwarves or whatever else lived down there.
Swimming was tiring—his bad leg dragged on the current, and he had to turn and push to compensate—so he preferred to float, keeping his lungs inflated and just waving his tail enough to stay afloat.
He became used to the cold of the water so quickly he feared he might be going numb and freezing to death. He struck out for the side of the cavern and tried a short climb and found all his limbs still able to function, though his hearts were pounding from the slight effort.
“M’be needing a rest, anyway,” Thernadad said, landing. His mother clung to his back, a tiny white-flecked thing atop his bulk. Her spurt of energy must have given out.
The others soon landed.
“M’be perishing,” Mamedi said. “Just a tiny drop of blood, sir.”
“I need my strength,” the Copper countered.
“Faaaaa!” she said. “You’re just floating there. Us on wing be doing all the work.”
“M’mind be muddled with exertion and shock of seeing cousins slain right and left, m’lord.” Enjor coughed. “A fork be coming up in the river. Unless I have my wits w’be going wrong.”
The Copper was tempted to tell him to return to the cave and deal with King Gan.
“Oops, you’d better be climbing higher, sir,” some young relation of Mamedi said. “Another dwarf boat a’coming!”
The Copper saw its light before he heard the faint ring of the approaching bell.
From what he could remember of the craft, the only dwarf who could see out the front was in a cage at the back of the boat.
