6. Speeded Dragons

Magim misjudged these animals, which was becoming a dangerous habit. The group of animals that ran at them wasn’t interested in Magim or Higgis at all. They were big and strong, yes, but they had no sharp teeth or wild expression.

Instead, they had sharp spikes. Not too intimidating, but still more than Magim ever had. He only knew them from thorny plants who didn’t want to be eaten. Now that he saw this, he understood animals could also benefit from such evolution.

“Join you?” Higgis yelled. The group stopped, briefly, then continued. That probably helps your survival, Magim thought, if you don’t immediately trust every stranger.

Shortly after, though, the group stopped anyway.

“Who are you?” a bearded dragon said. His beard, also sporting thorns, was blown to full size.

“Two animals fleeing Fleshfeasters.”

He narrowed his eyes and flattened himself against the ground. “Don’t look like it.”

“Does!” Magim also narrowed his eyes and flattened himself. He seemed to have provided the right password. The others relaxed, but when Magim stepped closer, they still warily retreated.

“Still not with us.”

“Why not?”

“Too slow.” He looked to the side. “Too clumsy. Too—”

When Higgis opened his mouth to protest, the group stumbled backward even more and yelled.

“Fleshfeaster! Fleshfeaster!”

They all exploded. One blew up his beard, the other his tail, and a third the remains of gills.

“No no, this funny Higgis. Must help him! Bad eyes!”

“It okay,” Higgis mumbled. “We walk away.”

Higgis thought he walked away, but he actually walked at the group in a straight line. To his eyes, several animals disappeared, as if becoming invisible. Magim had to look intently to realize they had taken over the exact color of the swampy terrain, like … camouflage.

“We can help each other!” he said. “Fleshfeasters are there, so if we cross the Nightriver …”

Magim didn’t know what scared the Bearded Dragons more. Higgis who stumbled at them … or mentioning the need to cross a piece of rapid-flowing water. Not just any water: a river so dark you couldn’t even look into it or see the waves.

“You have plan? To cross river?”

Higgis now almost stood next to them. He’d finally realized what happened and quit walking, allowing Magim a good look from the side. He was large. He did have weird teeth.

Realization slowly sank in—belief did not.

Step one of a Fleshfeaster was to eat you. Not become your friend and protect you. Step two of a Fleshfeaster was to hide in shadows. Not run at burning lights. Fleshfeasters were monsters, right? No funny, bumbling lizards?

The group still looked at him intently. He continued talking to lose the thoughts about Higgis maybe being a Fleshfeaster. “Not yet. But we make plan to cross river.”

“He not going.” They all pointed at Higgis with probing, shaking reptile fingers. He didn’t even see it, which was probably for the best.

We’ll find something for that, Magim thought. He was allowed to step closer and became even more impressed by the group. They all had something intimidating. Something with which to protect themselves. And they all were strong and fast. How could this be?

A group like this would keep him safe forever, right? Safe. It felt like the new step one of his life. No, no, for now step one had to be heal his sickness. He could barely talk through his damaged mouth and barely walk with his damaged paws.

“I mean it,” the bearded dragon said. “We survived so long by trusting nobody. We flee Fleshfeasters for thousands of years in this area! Only the strongest and fastest survive! And you …”

I am neither, I know. “What if someone ill? Or injured? Or accidentally not strong, or … has bad eyes?”

“Then they unlucky.”

Magim refused to accept that. You could solve anything if you thought long enough. If you found the right steps and executed them.

So, how did you cross the Nightriver?

Step one: you went there. If they kept a good pace, they’d stay ahead of any Fleshfeasters.

Step two: you became a fish. No, wait, impossible. They also weren’t frogs, who didn’t drown and could leap further. What were they? Most animals here were lizards. They could climb over trees or stones.

It suddenly made sense inside Magim’s head. If they could throw enough stones into the water, they could just walk over those to the other side. Maybe they could even knock over a tree and walk over that. Nobody had to even touch a drop of water!

Step three: they arrived on the other side and lived happily ever after, without fear of being bitten to death.

The group suddenly started to move. Quickly.

Magim didn’t see the danger, but trusted them and joined. Higgis surely didn’t see the danger. He looked around helplessly and yelled “wait me!” when nobody was around to wait anymore.

The Fleshfeasters behind him were far larger than he was. Compared to them, even Higgis seemed a tiny insect to walk over.

Higgis stepped on. Magim didn’t want to see it.

He ran back.

His paws gave out, dropping him to the floor. Exhaustion. Pain. His eyes shut and he couldn’t move anymore, no matter how hard he tried. To an outsider, Magim would already seem dead—Higgis understood.

“Stay away! My snack!” he yelled with all the anger and rawness he could muster. Magim wanted to open his eyes. One quick look. Know the monsters around him, looking down on him. He went mad in the darkness, the uncertainty. Like a spider crawling over your body, but you’re not allowed to find it and take it away.

But opening his eyes would give him away. It would mean the end of him and Higgis.

Someone growled. “Tiny snack. Not interesting.”

Some paws went away, some trudged closer. Hot breath passed over Magim. Someone sniffled at his sick skin, his front paws and his tail. His muscles pulled taut, forcing himself to lay deadly still and not shake from fear.

“Chase group!” Higgis quickly said. “A hundred snacks!”

“Chasing group for years,” a voice complained. “Still wounds from thorns. Never get them.”

The ground suddenly felt wet. Softer. It used to be swamp, now he sunk into quicksand with a terrible smell.

Magim had let his pee flow out of fear. He couldn’t stop it.

Someone lifted him. Two teeth dug into his tail and pulled him up like a fish out of water. Magim had to let it happen, despite how it hurt. He held back, held back, held back, held back—

Until he was dropped again.

His eyes opened in a reflex. They were alone, many tree lengths away, as the Fleshfeasters chased the other group. Higgis bent over him.

But his sweet eyes seemed replaced with the greedy eyes of a Fleshfeaster.