It was cold, and grew colder as the path opened to the little clearing that marked halfway home. I don't know, to this day, what made me pause and look up. But I did.
The clouds were a little thinner, blown out by the wind so that I could see higher up the mountain. This village was in the heart of dragon country, and there was a known roost high up in the mountains. On a clear day, if you were lucky, you could see the great beasts flying to and from their caves, carrying their hunts or going out to forage for gems. The mountain was well-known for being rich in minerals, and to my understanding, there was an agreement amongst the people who lived nearby and the dragons that lived on top of it.
The people were allowed to use the forest and the mountain for wood, and gems, and allowed to hunt within the immediate area. The dragons could fly far and had slow metabolisms, so they were never wanting for food.
Occasionally, a brave hunter would go up and bring an offering of gold, so that they could hunt a little heavier when the summer harvest had been on the lean side. The dragons were kind, up there, and posed no threat to us.
I had never seen one up close, but I liked to sit on the roof of my house and watch them on a clear day. They were mostly red and gold. Golds were the largest breed, and had four legs and gigantic wings that could block out the sun when they flew low to the ground. The reds had two legs, using the large, savage-looking hooks on the arches of their wings to climb and fight and hunt as they needed.
They were beautiful. One day, I told myself, I would go up the mountain and try to speak to one. They were capable of speaking, but also able to change shape into something vaguely human, more able to communicate in human words. At least, that was what everyone who lived here claimed. More than anything, I wanted to know what it was like to be in the presence of such a powerful, ancient species. I was sure that they were wise, and intelligent, and would be much nicer to be around than humankind.
I was so caught up with staring at the mountain that I didn't hear the heavy, rushing footsteps, until it was too late. A hand wrapped around my mouth, silencing my scream, and another meaty arm went around my neck, choking me as a foot kicked the back of my knee, sending me to the ground.
"Got her," my assailant grunted. A man, of course. Another set of legs came into view as my vision began to go dark at the edges. "Send word to Jonah. She'll make a nice house slave for the Northerners."
"We shouldn't be here," the other man said nervously. "The Wyrms will see."
"Let them," the first man scoffed. I struggled and kicked out, trying to get another lungful of air, but his grip merely tightened. He pinched my nose so I couldn't breathe at all. "What are they gonna do, come down here and start a war for one girl?"
"We're in their territory, Zeke," the second man snapped.
"The more you flap your lips the longer we'll be here," Zeke replied. "Just go tell Jonah I've got another. I'll meet him by the road in an hour once I've secured her with the wagon."
The second man sighed, and turned, disappearing into the darkness again. Zeke hauled me up with a grunt, and adjusted his grip long enough that my mouth was free, for a brief moment.
I gasped, and then I screamed. I wasn't sure anyone could hear me over the rumble of thunder, but I didn't know what else to do.
"Shut up," Zeke hissed. I shook my head and screamed again for help, but received no answer, from the forest or the creatures within it, nor from the storm or the dragons that I knew resided above. Zeke's hand clamped over my mouth again and he hauled me back into the trees like I weighed nothing at all, and a few minutes later, my vision went black.
I was only vaguely aware of being lifted, and thrown into the back of what I assumed was a cart, before I lost consciousness completely.
*
I woke up with my brain pounding inside my skull, body awkwardly curled up as though I was an old shirt that had been stuffed into a wardrobe. My neck ached and my spine protested the hard surface I was pressed against.
I soon realized that I wasn't alone.
I pushed myself upright and hissed when the back of my head cracked on another hard surface above me. I rubbed the back of it, glaring up into the darkness as the first ache in my head was swiftly joined by the second. Beside me, there was a source of heat in the form of another warm body. It was so dark I couldn't make out details.
"Hello?" I whispered. Then, louder; "Hello?"
"Quiet," a voice replied. It sounded young, too high for me to immediately determine if it was a boy or a girl. "You have to be quiet."
I pressed my lips together and drew in a breath. Around me, the scent of dirty, musty bodies and damp wood filled my lungs, and the sounds of creaking carts along the main road, and the bluster of horses was audible. I turned and pressed my hand to the wall of the cart, the wagon, and felt along it, seeking any weakness. The space I was in was long enough for me to stretch my legs, but I couldn't put my arms above my head and I couldn't sit up. It was like my companion and I had been laid inside a large, flat coffin.
I tried not to panic at the thought.
The cart moved over a particularly large bump in the road and I winced, my head aching as it knocked against the surface above me again. I hissed, rubbing my forehead, and turned back to seek out the source of the voice.
"Did you get taken from the mountain?" I asked.
"No," the voice replied. It belonged to the person next to me. It was another girl, someone I could guess was barely more than a child. My stomach turned, from what I'd heard Zeke say, we were likely destined to be sold into slavery. It was a long road around the mountain range the dragons called home, and to the North resided the wolf shifters, and beyond them, the nomadic humans who were said to be barbaric and cruel. They would do awful things to a young girl.
They would do awful things to me, as well, but I tried not to think about that.
"I'm from Lakeside," the girl said. I nodded to myself, recalling the little fishing village several miles outside my own. They supplied most of the region's freshwater catches, and were renowned for their ability to make excellent boats and weave strong nets. "You?"
"Near the Pass," I replied. I could hear the other girl nod, the vague sound of her cheek rustling her clothing.