I’m stealing his prisoners. I’m sure he’ll be pissed.
I hope so. If he’s taking prisoners, he’s not going to be as easy to deal with as the other dragon.
I almost scoffed at the idea of Zav and his cocky arrogance being easy to deal with, but Sindari was right. However arrogant he was, Zav believed he was one of the good guys. He hadn’t razed the city of Seattle to get to his dark-elf targets when he had the power to do so.
I half-pulled, half-carried the children to the wall. “We have to climb. Up that.”
They stared at the vertical wall with wide eyes.
“It’s easy,” I promised them. “Lots of handholds.”
They turned their wide eyes on me as if I were nuts. Maybe they would have been less daunted if they hadn’t been weak from days without food and only whatever rainwater might have leaked through to them.
“Never mind. Here, climb on my back. One at a time.”
They liked that idea better. I was halfway up the wall with one of the boys hanging from my shoulders when the roar of the dragon reached my ears.
Thieves! Intruders!
The children gasped, which meant the telepathic words were broadcast rather than drilled into only my mind.
“He’s going to hurt us.”
“He’s going to kill us, like that man!”
“No, he’s not,” I promised, hoping I wasn’t lying. “My friend is leading him away. Did you see the tiger? He’s amazing.”
Since Sindari didn’t comment on the last—usually, he would agree—I assumed he’d already run out of earshot. Even now, the dragon might be diving down on him, like an eagle plummeting to snatch a fish out of a lake.
I climbed faster, reached the opening, and shoved the boy off my shoulders and onto the floorboards. Without hesitating, I jumped back down, rolling to keep the fall from breaking my ankles. I sprang back to my feet and swept one of the girls onto my back to repeat the climb.
Another roar sounded outside. The dragon was farther away now. Had Sindari made it to the woods? The tall, densely packed trees would make it harder for an aerial foe to swoop down on him.
I deposited the second child on the floorboards and jumped down again. Halfway there…
Val? Sindari’s voice sounded distant in my mind. He had to be close to the end of our range—he could only travel a mile from the charm before the link would break, sending him back to his world.
Yes? I climbed up with my third hitchhiker.
I made it to the woods, and he followed me partway, but now he’s leaving. I think he’s going back to the windmill.
Ugh. He must have realized what you were doing.
I’m running back to you, but he’s faster than I am. He’ll get there first.
The second boy joined the other two children.
“You three, start running,” I ordered as I jumped down again. “Run back to the orchard. Do you know the way?”
“Yes,” the older boy said. “Is it safe out there?”
No.
“It will be for a bit, but you have to hurry.” As I swept up the last girl, I again hoped I wasn’t lying.
The idea of making it all the way here and finding the children only to lose them was heart-wrenching. Would the dragon capture them again, or would he incinerate them as they fled across the meadow? Why had he kidnapped them in the first place?
When I reached the top, I climbed out, not bothering to pull the girl off my shoulders. Panting from my exertions, I sprinted for the exit.
The first three children were running across the meadow toward the woods and the trail, but the high grass impeded them. The dragon flew into view over the treetops, heading straight toward the windmill. He was as large as Zav, but with silver scales instead of black, with a fist-sized, black onyx stone embedded in his chest. Instead of violet, his eyes were silver-blue, and I could see their angry glow from hundreds of meters away. They were boring right into me.
I ran after the children. If I could get them to the woods, I could come back out in the open and buy time for them to escape. Whether I would survive buying that time, I didn’t know, but it was the only plan that came to mind.
With my longer legs, I caught up with the three children. They were only halfway to the tentative safety of the woods. The dragon was heading straight toward us and would be on us in seconds.
I shook my head in despair; there wasn’t enough time.
“Follow them,” I ordered, pulling the girl off my back and pointing to the others.
She could barely see over the grass that was waist-high to me and shoulder-high to her, but she scrambled after the others. I backed toward the windmill, drawing Chopper and waving the sword menacingly at the dragon.
He arrowed down toward the children, not toward me. His great fanged maw opened wide, and my heart sank. He was going to breathe fire at them, incinerate them while I helplessly watched.
“No, you don’t, you bastard.” I yanked Fezzik from its holster, flicked the selector to automatic, and sprayed magical bullets at the dragon’s silver-scaled hide.
With a target that big, it was impossible to miss. But I’d seen Zav incinerate bullets, and I expected this dragon to do the same.
His jaws snapped shut, and his head jerked sideways. Again, those silver-blue eyes burned into me. He shifted his path away from the children—and toward me.
He hadn’t incinerated my bullets, but they also didn’t appear to have hurt him. That left me standing out in the open without a means of defending myself.
Arms pumping, I sprinted back toward the windmill, Chopper in one hand and Fezzik in the other. I tried not to think about the beheaded ranger and the fact that I wouldn’t be safe even if I made it inside.
As I ran, I fired over my shoulder. The dragon dove down, talons outstretched. I wasn’t going to make it as far as the ranger had.
I aimed for his eyes, the best I could as I was sprinting in the opposite direction. Maybe they would be a vulnerable spot.
One of my bullets bounced right off his eyelid. He didn’t flinch. Hell.
The talons swept in. I flung myself to the ground, rolling onto my back and slashing upward with Chopper. The blade struck one of the toes on his scaly foot as the talons missed taking my head off by scant inches. Surprisingly, my sword gouged into its target.
The dragon didn’t shriek in pain as his momentum carried him past, but he did grunt, jerking his foot up toward his scaled belly. I leaped up, thinking of taking another stab, but he passed out of my range too quickly. Already, he was flying upward and banking, so he could dive again.
I sprinted into the windmill, running to the far side and ducking under the overhang of the half-destroyed staircase. Sindari rushed inside as the dragon roared. Not with frustration at losing his prey—he knew he hadn’t lost anything—but in preparation.
The sky outside exploded with brilliant orange light as the dragon breathed fire onto the windmill.
5
I crouched beside Sindari at the back of the windmill, fingers wrapped around my fire-protection charm as flames obscured the exit.
The wood frame that I’d broken earlier charred and incinerated in two seconds. Much of the exterior was made from stone, but the heat was so intense that those stones were exploding or crumbling to ash. After twenty seconds under the dragon’s fiery assault, the windmill already felt like an oven inside. My charm protected me from direct flame, but I doubted it would keep me from roasting alive.