Fierce Winds and Fiery Dragons (Dusky Hollows: Book 1)

  Chapter 16

  Twif dunked his wings a few times in the lake, whistling a little bird tune. Once he was clean, he jetted directly back to the skylight where he'd left Ivy, only to find that she was gone. Ivy? Where are you?

  He hopped into the hole and for a moment it felt as if the sides of the cavern were moving to crush him. Shutting his eyes he stayed in that patch of light. I'm friend of the dragon, and nothing can hurt me. Ivy? Are you there?

  He felt her nearby. There was no way to describe the sensation, for it was a bird's feeling unique to birds and unknown by anyone else, but he felt Ivy and knew she was close and even knew what direction she went.

  He hopped ever so carefully into the dark. Snakes. Weasels. They all live underground with the worms. Helloooo? Ivy? Please answer. I know you're hiding from me. I'm sorry I left.

  Having drippy flesh on his wing was gross. He liked to be clean and always bathed after eating or when he got dirty. He hopped a little further into the darkness and realized that Ivy was right there after all. She'd only gone far enough into the darkness to hide, but she was asleep. Twif figured that he would sleep, too. He perched on her ankle because nothing down there was leaking and tucked his head into his wing and fell asleep.

  It was not a weasel or a snake that disturbed Twif, but the dark worms, the ones who lived all day under the earth and seemed like transparent copies of their above-world counterparts. He hopped away, abandoning Ivy. His mind knew only to run and didn't consider whether he liked Ivy, how much he liked Ivy, or even whether it mattered if she was captured. He only knew to run.

  He perched in the dark while the men discovered her.

  “Poor lass. Looks like she knocked herself out cold. Comes from above, this one.”

  “Your wife could use another foundling to care for. Maybe she won't cry so much at night.”

  Marilee Jenns was a mother to all of the children of the underworld, baking them treats, bandaging their cuts and scrapes, but her own hurt went deep. She couldn't have her own children and took in strays. Her husband catered to her deep need to mother. And so, he took Ivy home with him deep into the caves.

  Twif followed close behind, gliding and flapping and hoping he didn't run into a wall. The deeper he went the worse he felt. A bird wasn't meant for underground. He grew uneasy as the road turned steeper and the darkness became unbearable. He would have turned around, but by then he'd lost his way. He hoped the dragon would like him. That would make it all worthwhile.