Alianor’s brows shoot up.
“It’s trying to spray us,” I say. “With narcoleptic breath it doesn’t have yet.”
“Nothing in that sentence made sense.”
“It’s fine. Just let it keep coughing at us.”
I step back and motion for her to do the same. Malric leaps between us, but the dragon just hisses and then tries spraying again. Even the warg looks confused. He doesn’t attack, though, just nudges us into reverse, which is what we’re already doing, Jacko at our feet.
Then there’s a cry behind us. A human cry of surprise that turns to anger, and I glance over my shoulder to see one of Geraint’s men.
CHAPTER THIRTY
I wheel on him, my sword raised. “Go. This den is under the protection of Queen Mariela of Clan Dacre. Withdraw now and vacate her lands, and you will be spared any legal prosecution arising from your trespass.”
The man stares at me, as does the other appearing at his shoulder. Then they both laugh.
“I thought it sounded good,” Alianor grumbles. “But apparently, they want to do this the hard way.”
She brandishes her dagger. They laugh harder.
“Step down, princess,” Geraint says as he appears behind them. “This is a task for men, not little girls.”
“Stealing from a dragon?” I say. “That’s not a task. It’s theft.”
“Also really stupid,” Alianor says. “Haven’t you already lost a couple of men?”
“It’s a risk we’re willing to take,” one of the others says. “To win the prize of a lifetime.”
“Now step away from that baby dragon,” Geraint says. “We’ll toss you a copper for working your clan magic on it and keeping it calm.” His smile grows. “We’ll even make it a silver if you lead him right down this tunnel for us.”
“A princess doesn’t need…” Alianor begins.
She trails off as she realizes they know I don’t need money. They’re mocking us. As for the juvenile, I’d forgotten all about him when I turned my back, which is an unforgivable error. Fortunately, Malric’s watching the young dragon. It is indeed calm, though that has nothing to do with us and everything to do with the fact that it hasn’t learned fear yet. It’s curious, its neck extended as it sniffs at Malric, who allows it.
And that’s when we realize we’ve all forgotten the biggest threat of all. We’re here, talking away, and Momma Dragon has been silent. Sneaking up…as much as a creature the size of two houses can sneak. I don’t hear her. I don’t see her. But I smell her breath, wafting down the main tunnel.
The men do, too. The ones at the end of the group turn and give a start, as they see what I cannot. The dragon, I presume, her head shoved into the tunnel as she breathes.
“Back!” Geraint calls, as several more men appear down the tunnel. “Hold your breath and get back. Let it subside.”
“Then keep going,” I say. “Clear this tunnel. Now.”
“Actually, I think we will,” Geraint says. “You’ve convinced us. Now just come and stand right over here.” He points to the mouth of the tunnel. “Stand there, and watch us go. Don’t worry about the dragon. She can’t fit in here.”
“Nice try,” I say. “Her breath puts people to sleep.”
Alianor’s eyes round, and then she nods in understanding before waving her dagger at Geraint. “Yes, nice try indeed. Back out, as the princess said, and we will not be forced to feed you to this tiny dragon.”
She points at the juvenile, now sniffing noses with Jacko. The men laugh.
“You think we’re joking?” Alianor says. “This is the royal monster hunter. Friend to monsters everywhere. What greater way to prove that Tamarel welcomes the dragon than for Princess Rowan to teach her babies how to hunt and kill?”
“Hunt and kill humans?” one says.
Alianor shrugs. “Only the bad ones. It’s an excellent national security plan.”
Geraint sneers. “I have heard your father is a poor warlord. That he has forgotten the ‘war’ part of his title and prefers negotiation, wielding his silver tongue in place of a sword. You’ll need to improve that tongue of yours, girl, if you hope to follow his lead. Do you really think silly jokes will frighten us off?”
“No, I think they’ll convince you I’m a fool before—”
She charges, dagger out, shouting a war cry. She slashes the first man she reaches, before I rush to her side, wielding my sword. Jacko lets out his own battle cry and jumps on another man, who yowls as the jackalope digs in claws and teeth. Malric roars and leaps at Geraint. Then there’s a blur of black as the juvenile rushes in, shrieking and flapping its wings, one of which smacks into me.
“No!” I say to the dragon. “Back! Get back!”
It doesn’t listen, and somewhere deep in the cavern comes the answering cry of the other juvenile. Its mother roars, clearly conveying the same message I had to its sibling, but it listens just as well, and soon we have two small dragons in the passage, coughing and flapping their wings and baring their teeth.
They fill the side passage, smacking into me and Alianor and Malric—and stepping on Jacko. The jackalope hisses and chatters at them, and they actually seem to understand that far more than my shouts. They stop trying to attack…and in the chaos, one of the men throws a rope halter over the first juvenile’s neck.
I swing my sword, cutting the rope lead in his hand. Another leaps forward to grab the halter itself, but Jacko scrambles onto the man’s head. As the jackalope rakes the man’s scalp with his claws, the man screams, and Alianor says, “I always knew that head-riding thing would come in handy.”
I give a grim smile as I free the young dragon from the halter. Then I slash the rope and throw it aside, and nudge the young dragon behind me. We face off. Geraint’s men are still in the main tunnel, and we’re at the mouth of the side passage. With powerful legs, Jacko
