Geraint is gone. He must have escaped in the melee—footsteps echo down the corridor.
I raise my sword. “Your leader has fled. He knows you are outnumbered. Run now, or we will make you run, and we will not stop these baby dragons if they mistake that for a hunting lesson.”
It’s not quite as dramatic as Alianor’s threats, but it’s the best I can do, especially when I would stop the young dragons…out of fear the poachers would capture them.
The man Jacko had attacked is already fleeing, as he blinks through streaming blood. The one at the end of my sword glances at him, as if considering doing the same.
“Just leave,” I say. “Leave, and get out of Tamarel, and we will not pursue you. Your leader has forsaken—”
A roar. Until now, the dragon had been silent. She must have seen her babies being shouldered back and known they were safe. Now she roars again, and there is more than concern in her voice. There is fear and rage.
That’s when I hear the footfalls. Coming from inside the cavern. I dart to the main tunnel and look down to the end. The dragon’s head no longer fills the opening. Instead, it is blocked by her flank. Her head faces the side cavern, the one where she cannot fit, the one her youngsters use.
As I turn, Geraint appears at the end of the side passage with an egg under each arm.
I lunge into his path, sword raised. As I do, the man I’d been facing off with takes advantage and strikes at me. Malric’s there, though. He releases his quarry, leaps between me and my would-be attacker and snarls at both men. Alianor holds off the third. That leaves me with Geraint.
“Put the eggs down,” I say.
“Drop them?” he says, his grin growing. “Did you tell me to drop them, your highness?”
I grit my teeth. “Put them on the ground. Carefully.”
“I’m a subject of Dorwynne. I’m not under the command—”
“While you are on our land, you are under our command.”
He purses his lips. “Are you sure? I’m not some rabble camping within your borders, princess. I work for the king of Dorwynne himself. He entrusted me with his son, whom you have taken. He also entrusted me to bring him these eggs. You might want to consult your mother before you threaten me.”
“No.”
His brows shoot up. “No? Are you queen now, little girl?”
“I am the royal monster hunter. I am aware of every matter concerning monsters. If you are suggesting my mother sanctioned this, you obviously think me a fool.”
“I said nothing of the sort. I simply suggested this could be a diplomatic error on your part. A serious one.”
“All right, then,” I say. “I was never very good at politics. We’ll need to consult my mother. Return the eggs, and I’ll take you to her.”
The dragon has stopped roaring. She hears conversation. She knows her eggs are still in her caves. She also knows she cannot get to them. So she waits, assessing and considering.
She will not wait forever. If Geraint takes these eggs, she’ll fly out to try to stop him on the ground. She’ll kill any human in her way…or any human she thinks is in her way.
“Put down the eggs,” I repeat. “You cannot fight while you hold them. Only three of your men remain, and none of those are in any position to help you.”
I jerk my head toward the men, who are in the main tunnel, held back by Alianor and Malric, with Jacko watching. The two juvenile dragons wander about, sniffing everyone, as if we’re guests come to call. When one of Malric’s targets slides a rope from his shoulder, though, a juvenile snaps at him, wings twitching.
“Choose,” Geraint says.
“What?”
He nods toward the juveniles. “The king of Dorwynne expects a dragon. I can take one of those two or I can take both eggs.”
“Both eggs?” Alianor says. “You said he expects a dragon.”
“The young ones are alive and healthy. The eggs are unlikely to both hatch. I’d likely only get one viable baby. The eggs or one young dragon. You choose, princess.”
“I’m not the one you need to worry about,” I say. “My mother isn’t the one you need to worry about. I’m not protecting the dragon. I’m protecting my country from the dragon. From what she will do if you take her baby. She’s already sent the monsters fleeing toward Tamarel, because she felt threatened. What will she do when she’s lost two more eggs? Or a baby dragon?”
His smile returns, showing his teeth. “I believe that’s your problem.”
My hands clench around my sword. I want to…not kill him. I couldn’t do that. But I want to stop him in any way I can, and I fear that if I lose my temper, I might lash out worse than I intend to.
“One egg,” Alianor says.
I turn on her, but she meets my gaze with a steady look. She isn’t really telling him he can have an egg. She intends for us to get it back.
I’m not sure what good that will do. We’ve already played this particular game—Geraint gets an egg, we steal it, the dragon takes it, Geraint comes back and takes two.
Alianor is trying to buy us time. I understand that. But I also understand that the dragon will not put up with another round of this game.
“Fine,” Geraint says. “One egg. Now catch.”
He tosses one egg, and I lunge, dropping to one knee and then falling backward when it smacks me in the chest. I manage to catch it, though, arms wrapped around it as I sit on the ground, sword awkwardly half-clutched in one hand. I realize my mistake and go to fix my grip on the sword, but
