The Runaway's Hope (Part 2)

Hours passed before Vola reached the large teardrop-shaped cave opening. The black stones that lined the entrance jutted out like the glass fangs of a terrible monster. The light from the setting sun could not penetrate the magical darkness of the giant mouth. Kneeling beside her litter, she cleared her throat and yelled into the darkness.
“Master Suviklarg, your humble servant has returned to your presence and prays she may be granted entrance.”
Distant pounding echoed from the entrance tunnel. Soon Vola felt each approaching step reverberate through the mountain side, threatening to start an avalanche to bury her in obsidian and ash. A shape formed in the darkness. Out of the cave emerged Vola’s master, Suviklarg, the giant serpentine dragon.
The long, snake-like body of her master encircled Vola and the petrified corpse still tied to the crude sled. Each step from the four pairs of legs jutting from his sides caused a small cloud of ash to fill the air.
Disgust invaded her thoughts; the master did little to hide his disdain for her. Humans, in general, were not worthy to be in his presence. She was a miserable and insignificant tool to accomplish his desires.
An unblinking eye turned to Vola. The vertical slit pupil tightened as he focused on her. Vola continued to kneel before her master as her consciousness was probed for every detail of the journey. Vola focused her thoughts on her fears of the serpent’s rage, hoping it would keep the hatred of her servitude hidden from her master’s invasion. She once discovered a human skull in the serpent’s discarded refuse. She did not want to join it.
Suviklarg lifted his head and approached the cave’s opening. Her master’s words overwhelmed her thoughts. “Place the corpse inside and return to your chores.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, she lifted the litter and dragged the carcass into the cavernous lair. As she did, Vola noticed the large impressions Suviklarg’s feet made in the thick layers of dust throughout the cavern.
Vola ran a finger through a footprint’s dusty ridge; much of it was green. This was not the typical white and gray dust she normally swept. This was serpent scales, crushed to a glass-like sand.
In the middle of the large nearly circular cavern, her master used his front pair of clawed feet to inspect the corpse. Once positioned to his liking, he used his second pair to raise his body so that he towered over the petrified familiar.
Her master’s front claws waved over the stone corpse. His movements were slower and more deliberate.
As Vola swept, she saw many broken or missing scales in his once smooth pattern. Vola knew the dragon was ancient. In the flickering torch light, she could see every year.
Soon, the petrified carcass glowed with a dim orange light. Vola stopped working, transfixed on the beautiful light filling the cavern.
Suviklarg’s head swung to Vola. An angry hiss emanated from the serpent. Vola stepped back, clutching the broom and returned to sweep the neglected dust. She knew her master despised being watched while performing the magic he horded like gold. Vola risked Suviklarg’s wrath since it was the only way she could learn more than what she needed to perform her labors.
“You will extract the core.” The full weight of Suviklarg’s dominating presence pressed on her mind. Her knees almost buckled under the strain. “I need its powers. Now!”
Suviklarg lumbered to the private inner chamber through the back wall. Vola had never been into the master’s chamber; it was forbidden. She knew the treasures her master hoarded were there, but satisfying her curiosity was not worth her life.
Vola placed her broom aside and went to fetch the various hammers and chisels she’d need for the extraction. It was going to be a long night.