Then the tharuk was upon him in a flurry of tusks and claws. He dodged. Ducked. Rammed his blade up toward the tharuk’s throat. But the beast got him first, slashing his temple. Blood ran into his eye.
“Bleed,” the monster snarled.
Temple throbbing, Tomaaz feinted, then leaped under the brute’s arm, driving his blade into the side of its neck. The monster dropped. With a sucking sound, he yanked his blade out.
A bellow sounded from behind.
He ran up the slope, the tracker hard on his heels.
A thunderous roar shook the air and a whoosh of flame shot out of the sky. Dragons! Flaming the tracker! A stinking fog of burned fur roiled up the trail, enveloping Tomaaz as he made the top of the goat track and plunged into the cavern.
For a moment, it was too dark to see. A shove sent Tomaaz sprawling. Bill ran out the entrance.
Tomaaz got up, about to pursue him. No, he had to find Lovina.
She was at the back of the cavern, slumped below the boulder, her blood splattered over their picture. Her cheek was gashed. She was pale, her breath shuddering. Tomaaz scooped her up, cradling her against him, and carried her into the light.
“Lovina, Lovina.” His throat was raw.
Her eyes fluttered. “Tomaaz?”
“It’s me. I’ve got you.” He propped her up near the cave entrance on the dry stone floor and examined her wound. The edges were tinged with green grunge. Bill’s blade had been dirty.
Tomaaz slashed a strip of blanket with his sword and dashed outside to wet it in a clean patch of snow. Handel and Liesar were blasting flame between the trees below.
Lovina hissed through clenched teeth as he touched her cut with the icy cloth.
“Bill’s knife was dirty. I’ve got to get the shrot out of your wound.”
Lovina grimaced.
That stubborn dirt was mixing with her blood, traces of green spreading through the cut. Tomaaz tried his best to clean it, but couldn’t get it all out. “You need healing salve and a bandage. I’ll be right back.”
Standing at the top of the goat track, Tomaaz cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed for all he was worth, “Liesar! Liesar!”
The silver dragon wheeled, flying toward him. Thank the Egg, she was still wearing her saddlebags. She landed on the goat track, in a slushy splash, perching on the edge. The ground threatened to crumble under her weight, so Liesar kept her wings out, flapping to keep balance.
Ducking under her wing, Tomaaz used the straps to scramble up her side and open the saddlebag. “Healing salve, needle, squirrel gut and bandages. Lovina’s hurt.” He didn’t have time to put his hand on Liesar’s head and mind-meld with her, but she gave a displeased rumble, letting him know what she thought of Bill.
The moment he had what he needed, Liesar flew down to the forest.
Tomaaz smeared Lovina’s cut with healing salve and pulled the edges together with a few stitches, glad Ma had insisted he learn some of her craft. If only they had piaua juice … Never mind, he loved Lovina with every one of her scars and this scar would be no different.
Except that he was partly responsible for this one. “I’m sorry, Lovina. I should’ve kept watch. I should’ve thought—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “Hush.” Her eyes drifted shut.
In the end, it was trickier than he’d thought to put a bandage over her cheek. He had to wrap it right around her head. It looked terrible, but it would keep her wound clean while it healed.
The splash of boots coming up the slushy trail announced Pa’s arrival. “Son.” He gripped Tomaaz’s shoulder. “Thank the Egg, we found you both. I’ve been so worried.”
“We were outside when tharuks crept up on the cabin. We had to flee. Were you hurt?”
“A tusk to the leg, but I’ve had worse.” He gestured at his bloodstained breeches. “At least I got three of them.” Pa crouched next to him. “Lovina looks worse for wear. How’s she doing?”
“Bill gashed her with a blade. I’ve cleaned it up and stitched it. Not much else I can do.”
“Lovina will benefit from proper care at Dragons’ Hold. The healers there are excellent.” Pa smiled. “Well, they were when your ma was there.” He picked up the healing supplies.
Tomaaz cradled Lovina in his arms and carried her down the goat track to Liesar, his boots sloshing through the runoff. “Hey, Lovina, wake up.”
Her hand flew to her bandaged face, then she touched the skin above Tomaaz’s eye. “You’re hurt.”
He’d forgotten all about the tharuk gashing his temple. “We’ll have matching scars.” He kissed her hair, not caring if Pa was watching. “Let’s get you to the healers at Dragons’ Hold.”
Liesar knelt and Pa helped him get Lovina into the saddlebag. Tomaaz tucked the blankets around her.
“Hang on,” Pa said, uncorking the healing salve. He smeared some over Tomaaz’s wound. “It’s just a superficial cut, but you’ll be better off with some of this on it. There’s food in there, too.” He pointed at the saddlebag opposite Lovina.
“I’m glad you got Bill, Pa. He’s done enough damage.”
Pa shook his head. “We didn’t. Bill escaped. Short of setting the forest on fire, Handel and Liesar couldn’t reach him.” He gestured at his bow, slung across his back. “None of my arrows hit true either, although I think I nicked his arm.”
Tomaaz saw her charcoal drawing of them, splattered with her own blood. Bill marred everything beautiful. Ruined everything. Rage surged through him. If he ever saw Bill—
Pa placed a hand on his arm as Tomaaz was climbing into the saddle. “Let it go, Son. We have bigger fish to net. Bill’s just one of Zens’ pawns. If we can strike at the head, we’ll kill all
