“Move dragon,” yelled a large tharuk, waving a torch.
Tharuks yanked the rope around Erob’s neck. The momentum swung Erob’s head across the stones, knocking Tomaaz to the ground.
Adelina jumped in, slashing her sword across a tharuk’s neck. Its head flew to the ground in a spray of black blood.
“Let’s clean up this mess,” Zaarusha snarled. She swiped at the tharuk leader, impaling his neck on her talon, then ripped his head from his body, tossing the remains into the trees. She roared, swathes of fire cutting down the tharuks tugging on Erob’s neck chain. Handel attacked the beasts yanking the other chains.
“Not too close. We’ll burn Erob.”
“Retreat,” a tharuk yelled. The remaining tharuks dropped the chains, fleeing for the forest. Handel chased them with tongues of fire.
As the sun dipped behind the Terramites, Zaarusha landed near her son. “Hurry, Ezaara.”
Erob’s deep blue sathir was weak and flickering. Even though his sides barely moved as he breathed, the sharp imprint of his ribs pressed against his skin above the gaping rent in his belly.
No, not Erob. They’d journeyed for days together, searching for Roberto in the Robandi desert. His dry humor had stopped Ezaara from going crazy. Losing him would break Roberto’s heart.
Handel thumped to the ground, stones flying. “Tomaaz, Adelina,” barked Pa. “Stay vigilant. Swords at the ready.” He rushed over. “What can I do to help?”
“Bring me torches, as many as you can.”
Adelina ignored Pa, flinging her arms around Erob’s scaly neck. “Come on, boy,” she said, voice shaky. “Roberto needs you. I need you. You can’t die on us. I refuse to let you.” Even in the torchlight, it was easy to see Erob was dying. The ragged wound was as long as a man, and oozing guts and yellow pus.
Zaarusha butted her head against his snout, but Erob didn’t respond. Her sorrow washed through Ezaara.
“Pa and Tomaaz, ready the nets. Adelina, tell Erob to hold on.”
Ezaara sloshed water over Erob’s intestines. If they dried out, they’d crack and there’d be no saving him. Luckily blood seepage had kept them moist. She dampened a clean cloth and held it against his gut, pushing it back inside the wound. “Adelina, hold his skin together, please.”
Adelina pressed the cloth over the end of the wound, holding Erob’s gut in. Ezaara threaded her needle. If she didn’t stitch him temporarily before they moved him, his gut would split wide open, spilling his intestines. Erob didn’t even flinch as she jabbed the needle through his tough hide. Sweat beading her forehead, she tugged the edges of the wound together in long uneven stitches. Adelina moved along the wound as she worked, holding the edges together.
Handel stalked the clearing. Tomaaz and Pa prowled around, bows nocked, keeping an eye out for tharuks.
“Monte Vista, where I grew up, is an hour’s flight away. We’re near where I first met Handel.” Pa’s brow furrowed as he paced past Erob.
A few weeks ago, Pa had told Ezaara the story of how his sister, Evelyn, had been killed at the hands of tharuks near the foot of the Terramites. Was Pa remembering his sister too? She jabbed the needle back through Erob’s skin.
At last, Ezaara was done. “His guts are on the inside now. Let’s get him back to Dragons’ Hold.”
“Erob. Please, son, wake up,” Zaarusha begged. Her desperate attempts to meld with the dying dragon yielded nothing.
Ezaara strode to Erob’s head. “Adelina, hold the corner of his lip up.” She jammed a vial of piaua between his fangs and tipped. Erob swallowed. Thank the Egg.
“We have to get the nets under Erob,” Ezaara said. “Zaarusha, Handel, if you roll him, we can slide them under halfway, then we’ll have to roll him back to pull the nets through. Hopefully the stitches will hold.”
A gust of air few from Erob’s nostrils. “Ezaara?”
“Erob, You’re awake.”
“Barely,” he answered weakly.
Ezaara’s eyes stung. “We’re using Roberto’s fishing nets to carry you home.”
“A dragon-fish?” Erob attempted a weak chuckle, but it turned into a splutter.
“More like a fish out of water,” she answered, motioning the others into place. “We have to move you to get the nets under you. It’ll hurt, but please hold on.”
“Now,” Ezaara commanded.
Zaarusha and Handel squatted and pushed against Erob’s side, rolling his injured belly off the ground. Still melded, Ezaara felt the wave of pain rippling through his wound. Scrambling between their limbs, Adelina, Tomaaz and Pa unrolled the net, pushing it under Erob’s belly as far as they could.
They gently lowered Erob back down onto the nets.
“The hardest part will be to hold him while we pull the nets through,” Ezaara said. Tomaaz, Pa and Adelina joined her on the other side, faces grim in the flickering torchlight.
They positioned themselves, ready to grab the nets as Handel and Zaarusha rolled Erob. The dragons shoved.
“I see the nets.” Tomaaz darted under Erob’s belly to grab one end. Pa, Adelina and Ezaara crawled under to help. Crouched under the dragon’s bulk, groping for the nets in the dark, Ezaara realized what a far cry this life was from the innocent sheltered life she’d led in Lush Valley.
“A far better life,” Zaarusha mind-melded. “What you’re doing now matters. You’ve already saved the lives of many—including mine and Roberto’s.”
Ezaara could feel the strain of lifting Erob in Zaarusha’s thoughts. “Can you hold him?”
“Only for a few moments longer.”
“The dragons need us to be quick,” Ezaara said, tugging a length of net and flattening it.
“My part’s done.” Adelina scrambled out of the way.
“Mine too,” Pa called, crawling out between Handel’s limbs to safer ground.
“This end’s stuck,” Tomaaz called. “Ezaara,
