Carpathian 23 - Dark Storm

patience, something the dragon had never had to really develop. Dax
     skimmed along the rock wall, allowing the mist to touch the various colors and settle
     into the cracks, examining them to see if there was an opening too small to see. Nothing.
     He moved lower, taking in every inch of the wall. The tube sloped downward, coming
     to the floor in a relatively smooth overlap. Again there was no sign of Mitro, but
     he was beginning to feel a sense of urgency.
    Dax knew from centuries of experience that when a hunter felt that sudden push, it
     meant his prey was close and up to no good. He waited a few heartbeats, going still
     again, getting a feel for the tube and anything that might be out of place. The overhead
     ceiling was mottled with grays, blues and deep rust colors. The floor was yellow and
     brown, chunks of rocks scattered everywhere. Small flecks of gray, blue and rust dusted
     the top of three of the rocks directly below him.
    Dax turned his attention to the ceiling, the mist moving in close, pressing against
     the mottled rock. The surface was much smoother here, the tiny cracks and crevices
     harder to discern. As mist, he could seep into the little spaces, going as deep as
     possible before they dead-ended, and he could examine large portions of the ceiling
     at the same time.
    Clever, clever Mitro. There was a pinhole, so small only a tiny bore worm would be
     able to insert itself into that dot, but the moment the mist touched it, Dax felt
     the familiar pull that told him he was not only on the trail, but was very close.
     He moved deeper inside that small opening and almost immediately it widened in circumference.
     The worm had grown to enormous proportions, burrowing through the rock and then pushing
     any flakes to the side. A few had escaped through that little pinhole and landed on
     the rocks below.
    Many times over the centuries, Mitro had worked at finding his way out, burrowing
     close to the shield set in place by Arabejila so many years earlier. The vampire at
     times had managed to weaken the barrier when the women had become less powerful, but
     once the ritual was performed, that safeguard held. Clearly, now that the volcano
     was close to exploding, and the woman was late, Mitro was making another try.
    With great stealth, Dax seeped through the ever-widening hole. The larger the bore
     worm, the more efficient and faster he could go through the rock. Mitro expanded his
     worm the moment he thought it safe to do so. It was a brilliant and cunning plan.
     Dax would never have found that tiny pinhole on his own. The stench of the vampire
     was too strong everywhere, especially in the lava tube. Mitro had made certain his
     presence was known in every corner and chamber underground. He knew it was his best
     defense.
    Dax wasn’t in the least surprised that Mitro had managed to bore a great distance
     through, up to the barrier itself. He was finding it hard going once he hit the shield.
     It may have weakened without the necessary reinforcement Arabejila’s kin would bring,
     but the safeguards were still powerful.
    Dax crept up behind the great worm. The creature spun fast, turning over and over,
     a living drill, its head equipped with a diamond-hard bite while the tail acted like
     a rudder. Dax timed his moment, a hand reaching out of the mist, grasping the spinning
     tail, shackling it in a grip impossible to break. Immediately he reversed direction,
     backing up and dragging the worm with him.
    Mitro thrashed and fought, but the hole was tight, preventing him from turning and
     sinking his teeth into Dax. He tried shifting, but Dax refused to relinquish his hold.
     Mitro couldn’t go forward or shift into insubstantial mist. As the hole began to narrow,
     he shifted just enough to use his diamond-hard nails on his feet like the claws of
     a dragon, cutting through the rock as if it didn’t exist. He widened the hole, maintaining
     his grip on the worm’s tail as he moved backward toward the lava tube.
    The moment he felt the air sliding over him, he shifted again, back into his human
     form, dropping to the floor of the lava tube, dragging Mitro with him. The worm swung
     his head around, the massive drill bit driving at Dax’s body. Without letting go of
     the tail, Dax pulled his chest out of the way of that whirling diamond point.
    The ground lurched, sending him sprawling against the tube. The worm went wild, slamming
     itself into the wall, trying to bank off the