Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
“Now we go to work. Come here.”
She approaches me gingerly, moving with the gait of someone who was thoroughly punished the day before and is now feeling it. I wonder how her tender sex feels after the total ravaging she submitted to.
“How are you feeling after yesterday?”
“Fucking great,” she says, bitter, sassy, and rude. Whatever physical discomfort she is in, it is clearly not enough to make her behave herself.
“Good,” I say, taking her into my arms. “Now, hold on.”
I carry her to the ledge from which she has already jumped twice and give her the experience of taking off and having the winds work for her instead of whistle by her as she falls. My wings extend, catch the wind, and I launch myself into the sky as I have thousands of times before. This time is different, though. This time I want to impress my mate, as well as keep her safe close to my body. My sweater, which she is still wearing, flutters against me as she finds her way safely into the sky, and I hear a little squeak of what I assume must be excitement as the entirety of Grave City is laid out beneath us.
There is no view like this one, the ancient buildings carved out of stone laid down long ago by natural processes, which now provide shelter to us all. Our ancestors made this city. The very oldest buildings were mined from the stone, but there are newer constructions made more recently, roads winding between them to allow for vehicular traffic. They wind like stony rivers through the old constructions and the new, connecting it all together. Then there are the rivers which run in their own channels, coming from the waterfall that tumbles from the clifftops surrounding the city. Our perches come from that same stone, pillars which have remained standing while softer stone was washed away.
There is a lake at the lowest point of the city, a reservoir of both food and precious liquid during dry spells. Then, the feature which gives the city its name. The skeleton of the ancient primal, the large rib cage and even larger skeletal head of a beast who chose to end her lengthy life here in the basin of the city before it was a city.
I keep Raine cradled in my arms as we fly over these wonders, feeling the warmth of her body against mine as the sun beats down across the span of my wings and the breadth of my back. There is something quite nice about having a little mate tucked up against my belly. I can feel her clinging to me, her hands curling in my hair. If she were to fall, that would not be a great grip for her to have, but I have no intention of letting her fall. As stern and perhaps even harsh as I am with her, I do not want to see any harm ever come to her. She may not know the softness or depth of my feelings, but that will not stop me from acting upon them.
Our destination is one of the oldest parts of Grave City, a building which is located within walking distance of both the primal’s final resting place and the lake. It was not carved from the original rock. It was constructed out of material native to the region, but rarely used for building.
“What is this?” She breathes the question as we land in front of my workplace.
We are both being dwarfed by this structure, which rises dark and imposing above us. Above the door is the skeletal head of a primal, though a smaller specimen than the one which graces the city. Around that skull extends an intricate series of patterns created from intact bones.
“This is where I do my work,” I tell her as I usher her into the interior. “This is the Hall of Bones.”
“Very literal,” she mumbles to herself.
It is indeed a literal description of the place, which is designed both to be imposing and to strike fear into the hearts of those who have trespassed against the laws of the city. Bones adorn practically every surface, placed by those who came before me with an artistry I could never muster. The floor is made in such a way that my steps ring throughout the space. I do not know the secret of that construction, but I know that in comparison, Raine’s lighter human footfalls seem like a little pitter patter. This is a place where the large are made small. She was already small. This hall makes her tiny.
It is a hall in the traditional sense of the word, a place for saurians to gather. There are rows of stuffed leather-covered seats on both sides, and an aisle between them that leads to a dais.