I glance at Dain. He’s still unconscious…and still on the other side of the dragon. I need her to retreat so I can slip him away, and I’d rather he didn’t wake up before that.
“Hey, Dain!” Alianor begins, but I frantically shush her. She figures out why and nods. If he startles awake—or Dez does—it’ll remind the dragon they’re there.
“We need to lead these guys down the main tunnel,” I say. “Get them back to Momma that way.”
“And get her away from Dain.”
“Right. I’m going to try leading them. Will you wait here?”
She nods. “Wait here and wake Dain when it’s safe.”
“If you can. Don’t take any chances, though. Please.”
“I’m Clan Bellamy. We only take chances if there’s coin involved. Just don’t offer me a new jeweled hair clip if I save him.”
I smile and shake my head. “I’ll offer you a jeweled hair clip if you don’t take unnecessary chances. How’s that?”
“Mmm, we’ll see.” She waves me away. “Take your babies and go.”
The next part is tougher than it seemed. While the juveniles are curious and happy to follow me, it enrages their mother. I can’t tell her what I’m doing. She only sees me touching her babies and herding them into the side passage, out of her sight. She roars and slams into the walls, and the whole cavern shudders with her rage and fear.
I lead the two juveniles into the main tunnel, where Malric still has Geraint pinned. The warg growls at me, telling me he does not like this plan. Or I presume that lip quiver is a growl. I can’t hear anything over the bellows of an enraged mother dragon.
And then things get even tougher. There’s a warg and the bleeding Geraint on the floor, and the young dragons want to check that out. There’s also a sleeping man, one of the poachers. One juvenile lowers its head to examine him and flicks its tongue over his face, and he wakes. He sees a dragon’s face hovering over his, and screams, flailing.
The juvenile squeals in surprise, and Momma’s hearing must be attuned to that sound, because she manages to hear it over her own cries. She jams her head into the main tunnel, reaching in as far as she can.
Her jaws open, and I hold my breath, but she snaps instead, those sword-sized teeth bared as she snarls and whips her head back and forth. The young dragon only paws at the screaming man, and its sibling idly examines the man’s boot before taking the end in its teeth and giving a tentative tug.
“You do realize your mother is freaking out twenty feet away, right?” I say to them. “She’s going to have her hands—well, talons—full with you two. Now I know how my mother feels.”
I get behind one and push. “Go! Get home! See, Momma Dragon? I’m shoving them in your direction.”
I’m joking—half-panicked, half-exasperated—but the dragon does stop roaring. She even pulls back a little to eye us as I shove the juvenile from behind, its tail smacking me with every step. Finally, I give one last push, and the juvenile is within her reach…and immediately twists around and tries to dive back toward me. She grabs her baby and hauls it to her side, hissing and snapping as the young one rumbles in its chest like a grumbling child.
She shoulders that one aside and then waits as I propel its sibling her way. At the last moment, the second juvenile realizes its fate and tries to scramble away, but it’s within Momma’s reach now, too. I give a tremendous shove, and the baby grabs my arm in its talons, and we both go tumbling. My head strikes rock, and I black out for a heartbeat and then open my eyes…
The mother dragon is above me. Just like the first time. She’s looking down at me, her massive head poised over me. My heart stops.
She eyes me. Her jaws open, and all I see is teeth and the black hole of her throat. Then her jaws shut and she sniffs me. Her golden eye comes so close I can see flecks of black shimmering in it. She blinks and snorts…and then she raises her head, moving away.
“I’m sorry,” I say as I sit up. Across the cavern, I see a broken egg. The one Geraint’s men purposely broke. My heart cracks a little. “I’m very sorry. I—”
One young dragon tackles me. Clearly, I am sitting on the ground waiting for that. It leaps on me with a chirp of joy. I fend it off, waiting for its mother to roar. She doesn’t. Nor does she help. She just watches for a moment and then begins licking one of the stolen eggs, cleaning our human smell from it.
“You are not taking that home,” croaks a voice, and I manage to shove the young dragon aside enough to see Dain rising unsteadily, Alianor helping him, Dez still asleep on Dain’s chest.
That’s when the other juvenile joins in and jumps on me. Dain shakes his head as I sputter and fight my way from under the two dragons, as their nips get harder than I’d like.
“What is it with you invading monster nurseries?” Dain says, his voice still crackling. “The gryphons weren’t enough. You had to find yourself a dragon den.”
Alianor chuckles. “Monsters are going to be circulating Rowan’s picture everywhere. Beware this human. She comes into your nurseries and plays with your babies.”
“I’m not—” I push one dragon’s snout aside. “Not trying—” I push the other’s tail away. “Not trying to play. Momma Dragon? Help me out here?”
She only looks over and then returns to cleaning her eggs.
“I think she’s saying you’re hired,” Alianor says as she tries to extricate me from the youngsters. “Your new job. Dragon nanny.”
“Just help me out of here. Please. I don’t want to overstay our welcome.”
Alianor helps…which only makes
