Well, I’m sure later on, we’ll look back and marvel at this moment—“playing” with young dragons as their mother watches—but right now, we’re very aware of that mother dragon, and the fact that we need to get out of here before her mood changes. Also, baby dragons bite hard.
It’s Malric who breaks it up, prowling in and dragging me away, all the while glowering like I’m goofing off and he’s forced to be the adult here.
“I wasn’t—” I say, but he’s already gone, diving in to get Jacko next. “Hey, wait! What about Geraint?”
“Covered!” a voice calls from the tunnel.
I take Jacko from Malric and head back into the tunnel as Malric rescues the others. There, I find Trysten holding a dagger to Geraint’s throat.
Trysten grins. “I kinda like this. Feels very satisfying.” Before I can respond, he says, “Wilmot sent me in. Doscach showed me the way. Wilmot and I were both coming when Geraint’s men started appearing out of the water, ranting about killer baby dragons.” He peers down the tunnel. “I see what they mean.”
“Is Wilmot okay? Sunniva?”
“She’s with him. And he’s with a troop of your mother’s men, led by Kaylein and the captain of your mother’s guard.”
I grin. “Berinon!”
“Yep, Kaylein brought help, and a couple of your hunters tracked us from where we left her and Cedany. They have the poachers. We just need to get this one out.” He glances over my shoulder at Dain and his grin grows. “You’re okay.”
Dain nods and sneaks a look at me. “Thank you for coming after me.”
“Did you really think she wouldn’t?” Alianor comes up behind him, panting with exertion. “She ran all the way here. Took off the second she saw you grabbed by the dragon.”
I call for Malric, saving Dain from a response. The warg backs into the tunnel, growling at the young dragons as they try to follow.
“Hey!” Alianor says. “You took a trophy.”
She snatches at something that’s stuck in my belt. It’s a baby tooth from the dragons. She puts it into my hand. Then she glances toward the smaller cavern.
“I saw a few more in there. They must be teething. Mind if I grab some?”
“Quickly,” I say. “And you have to share.”
She takes off, and I look down at Geraint.
“On your feet and walk,” I say. “I’ll let Trysten do the honors. I have a feeling he’d be more than happy to put a few extra holes in you.”
And so we tramp down the tunnel with our hostage, Alianor catching up in a few moments, Malric holding off the baby dragons until their mother intercedes and keeps them back. Then the warg catches up, and we continue on, leaving a family of contented dragons behind.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Just over a week has passed. It took nearly that long to get home to the castle. We went on ahead while Berinon and his men escorted the prisoners. We kept to the riverbed this time, which made a quicker journey. Then it was home to tell our story.
This morning, I’m telling that tale to a group of schoolchildren. I’m in the castle town—the one that sits outside our walls. The children there are accustomed to hearing monster stories, but this one is different. This one has everyone in the kingdom talking, and when the teacher invited me to speak, Mom thought I should go.
Eventually, adventure stories like ours will be turned into bard songs that exaggerate our deeds, but in the earliest days, they’re more likely to become twisted into rumor, by fear and worry. Mom’s already dealing with a stream of messengers from mayors and lords, all concerned about how the dragon family might endanger Tamarel.
I’m in the village school, which is jammed so tight it’s a wonder anyone can breathe. Apparently, all the parents decided this was the day they wanted to sit in on their children’s lessons.
Dain is with me. I kind of dragged him along. He’s a monster hunter, and he needs to take credit for his feats, even if he complains that his “feat” was being snatched by a dragon and rescued by a princess. As I point out, though, he’s the one who heroically offered to be taken by the poachers and then snatched the egg from under their noses.
Malric is with me, as always. Jacko, too. Dain brought Dez…or Dez came along, attached to Dain. I’d invited Sunniva, since she rescued me from the dragon den the first time. She ignored my request…until she flew overhead and saw the children fawning over Doscach. That’s where we are now, out-of-doors, with the children greeting Sunniva and Doscach as I speak to the village teacher.
“You must come back,” she says. “You are a gifted storyteller, your highness.” She nods to Dain. “And you too, Sir Dain.”
“I’m not a sir,” he says. “Just a regular boy.”
“All the more reason to come back. There are many children who do not think they can aspire to things like monster hunting because they are ‘just a regular’ boy or girl. You are a role model for them.”
He mumbles something unintelligible.
An older man shoulders his way in. “I don’t suppose you’d part with your dragon’s tooth, lad,” he says to Dain. “It would fetch a small fortune in Roiva. I’m off there with an envoy tomorrow.” He smiles. “I do believe I’ll dine all month on the story of the dragons in Tamarel.”
Dain frowns, and the teacher explains that the trader means he’ll be invited to dinner by those who’ll want to hear the dragon story. I only half listen as
