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“Over here!”
Rath raced out of the narrow tunnel and hooked a left turn. Char and a spray of golden lights followed, along with a cloud of dust and pebbles. An ominous rumbling from the tunnel urged Char’s burning muscles to keep going.
That, and Iris’ limp, bloody form in his arms.
Another rumble, louder this time. Loud like thunder.
Rath stopped and spun around. “Get down!”
Char dropped to the ground, shielding Iris with his body. An icy wind whipped his hair forward, and then Rath was in his dragon form, curling around them both and raising his wings to barricade against the debris flying through the air. The rumbling thunder became an earth-shattering roar. Rath growled and grumbled with each boulder that hit him, but he held his position.
“Come on, Iris,” Char muttered, pressing his fingers to her neck. Her skin was cold as ice. “Come on…”
He held her against himself and closed his eyes, waiting, throwing up a silent prayer, and then he felt it.
One beat, weak and faint.
He opened his eyes, keeping his finger on her neck and watching for a breath. It felt like an eternity until he saw it: a slight, almost imperceptible rising and falling of her chest, coinciding with another faint beat under his finger.
A wave of relief washed over him. He closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair, waiting until the rubble finally settled and the noise finally ceased.
Another icy blast of wind, and Rath was back in human form.
“Ow.” He tried to rub his side, but his chest plate prevented that. “Darn armor.” He ripped it off, dropping each piece to the ground with a series of loud clangs. “She still alive?”
Char leaned his head back against the cavern wall. “Yeah, but she’s really cold.”
“Ah, that’s better.” Rath rubbed his side and winced. “Now I know how you felt after you busted through that tower.”
“Except you didn’t destroy a building with your body.”
Rath collapsed beside Char. “No, guess not. I can take her, if you wanna get out of that tin can.”
Char passed her over to Rath and stood to strip off his own set of armor. He was too exhausted to bother setting the pieces of metal down, instead discarding them with as much noise as Rath had just done. The sweat trapped beneath his stolen uniform was drying and making him shiver.
“You weren’t kidding about her being cold,” Rath said. “And that hair—it’s freaky. Wonder if it’ll go back to normal?”
Char sat next to Rath and took her back. “I don’t know.”
Rath yawned and closed his eyes, resting his head back against the cave wall. “When was the last time we slept?”
“Three nights ago.” Another shiver ran through Char. “Great. Just what I need when I’m trying to warm her up.”
“What, shivering? Maybe it will help,” Rath mumbled. He was shivering, too. “Where are the fairies?”
Char frowned and scanned the massive cavern. It was big enough for both dragons to transform and walk around without discomfort, with several smaller tunnels splitting off from it. A pile of rubble marked what remained of the tunnel they’d escaped. There were no fairies in sight.
“I don’t know.”
Rath yawned again. “Wonder what they’re up to. Well, I hope we didn’t wake anything nasty up with all that noise, because I’ve gotta get some sleep, and so do you.”
“I’ll keep watch.” Char tucked his knees up to bring Iris even closer to him.
“Mm. Fine, if you can stay awake. I won’t blame you if you can’t.”
Rath’s breathing slowed within a minute.
Sleep was tugging at Char, too, making his eyes heavy and hard to keep open, but his mind was still running. He brushed Iris’ hair back behind her ear and kissed her pale forehead. She was still alive, and that was all that mattered right now.
She was alive, and Micah was dead.
You should have heard her begging me to stop.
Char scowled. He wished he’d had more time to beat Micah into a pulp, to make him pay, to make him feel a fraction of the pain he’d inflicted on Iris. Or at least throw one more punch.
Char would never forget her wild sobbing when he got there too late. He’d never forget how fragile she’d felt in his arms when he held her, wrapped in nothing more than a towel. He’d never forget the sight of her torn dress on the floor and the blood-stained sheets.
He kissed her forehead again. “I’m sorry, Iris.”
But it was over now. Micah was dead; the amulet was gone; and Iris had survived with enough magic leftover to pull her from the brink of death. They just needed to rest, recover, and get home.
He wanted to stay awake, but he knew he wouldn’t.
Rath’s groan woke him up several hours later.
Char was warmer now, but he was also stiff. He’d fallen asleep with his head bent over Iris, and his neck and shoulders protested when he lifted his head.
There was a thick blanket tucked around them. Iris’ cheek rested against his chest, just as it had when he’d fallen asleep, and she was still pale, but her hair was the familiar chestnut brown again. He combed his fingers through it and then felt for her pulse. This time, it was easier to find, although it was still weaker and slower than it should have been.
“Where did these come from?” Rath muttered, emerging from his own blanket to stand and stretch. “Ow. I could use a hot bath right now. Something to loosen up.” He stretched his hands high over his head and then dropped them to his sides. “Hey, her hair’s back to normal.”
“Yeah.” Char straightened his legs in front of him. They, too, protested being kept in one awkward position for too long. “The fairies must have brought these blankets.”
“Yeah, but where are they?”
“Here.” Char pushed the blanket back to reveal the little golden orbs of light clustered on Iris' frame. “Seems like they did the trick. She’s warmer now, and her pulse is a little better.” He tucked the blanket around her and eased her onto Rath’s discarded blanket, then stood and stretched. “Now, how do we get out of here?”
“The fairies had to get the blankets from somewhere. Maybe there’s a family of dwarves down here.”
“This far south?”
Rath shrugged. “Maybe these dwarves like summer. We can ask them ourselves when we find them. Hey, fairies. I need one of you.”
A single golden orb wriggled its way out of the blankets and flitted toward Rath and Char.
“Can you show us where you found the blankets?” Rath asked.
It shot straight up and down.
“That’s a yes,” Char translated. “I’ll get Iris.”
“You sure? I can take her if you need a break.”
Char shook his head. “I’m fine. She isn’t that heavy, anyway, and you can’t be feeling great after shielding us from that cave-in.”
“True. But you can’t feel great after running flat-out in a full suit of armor while carrying her.”
Char scooped Iris up with the blankets. “Light armor. I’m fine.”
“Well, if you need a break, let me know. Hopefully, we aren't far from wherever the fairies found the blankets.”
The fairy fluttered toward the tunnel opposite the cave-in, and Char and Rath trudged after it. Rath glanced back at the pile of armor and frowned.
“Wish we’d hung onto at least one sword. It was kind of fun watching her wrecking him, but I feel like she could have done that a long time ago.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. She said her magic was getting stronger with each extraction session, so she might not have had enough power before…”
Char’s jaw flexed. Rath patted him on the shoulder.
“You had no choice. She had no choice. It was her or the orphans, and we got to her as fast as we could. And that part ran like clockwork. Quick and efficient. Textbook for a covert operation. Kelnor would’ve been proud of us.”
“We were still too late.”
“Which wasn’t your fault, and we can’t go back and change what already happened, so stop beating yourself up about it.”
Easier said than done. Rath hadn’t watched the girl he loved give herself up to Micah. He hadn’t seen the fear on her face turning to hopelessness as she rode away in the arms of her abuser. That had been torture for Char.
But when Rath had returned, things had moved at a good clip. Rath had already found and knocked out a couple of soldiers whose uniforms fit them, and he’d stripped and stashed them in a cellar so he and Char could take their places. They couldn’t have been more than an hour behind Micah when they’d marched right through the castle gates after slipping into the tail-end of the army. Then they’d been careful to maintain a low profile while also asking the right questions, and once they’d learned Iris’ location, they’d put together a plan to sneak out of the barracks and into the castle to get her.
It had been quick and efficient.
But it had also been too slow.
They had both known Micah would put her through the torture of extraction as soon as he got his hands on her, and they had both known what he planned for her in the morning, too.
Char had wanted to throw caution to the wind so many times. If he’d thought he could get away with it, he would have made a dash for Micah’s tower, but he couldn’t risk getting himself and Rath killed or thrown in the dungeons. Then Iris would have been on her own.
“Look, there’s a door up ahead. That’s got to be dwarven.”
Char studied it from a distance as Rath went ahead to check it out. Worn wood, round shape, low frame—it had all the hallmarks of a dwarven door.
But when Rath knocked, the door swung open on its hinges.
Not typical of dwarves. They were sticklers for security.
Rath motioned for Char to wait. “Hello?” he called, poking his head inside, then he crept over the threshold.
Char shifted Iris in his aching arms and looked down at her peaceful face. No signs of waking up yet, but he thought her color was returning. It was so gradual that it was hard to tell. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part.
“All clear,” Rath called. “Somebody left in a hurry, and pretty recently, too.”
Char ducked through the door and followed Rath inside. The entryway had been cut from stone, like dragon caves, but the square edges and low ceiling were telltale signs of dwarven work. A row of brass hooks hung from the wall on Char’s left, all empty except for a single pair of shoes and one coat, and the same moss that grew on dragon cave ceilings lit the little room.
He ducked through the next door, and then the ceiling opened up enough for him to stand at his full height. The top of his head could still brush the ceiling if he stood on tiptoes, though. More square edges, with furniture denoting a living room and a huge cobblestone fireplace as its centerpiece. There was a pile of fresh wood stacked next to the hearth.
Char laid Iris on the sofa and set to work building a fire.
“There’s food in the cabinets,” Rath said, returning from his exploration. “Enough to last us for a couple of days. A few bedrooms and bathrooms, and lucky for us, these dwarves liked to go big, so we can take hot baths and sleep in warm beds until Iris is on her feet.”
Char blew the fire into existence and stood. “Wonder why they left?”
Rath shrugged. “Hopefully, we won’t find out. I’m gonna get cleaned up. Probably best to let the fairies handle the cooking, right?” He grinned and disappeared into another room.
Char sighed and went to the sofa, lifting Iris and easing himself underneath her. He cradled her in his lap and brushed her hair back from her face.
“Iris, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need you to fight this and come back to me. I’m ready to stop dreaming about the future and start living it, and I need you in it."51Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM608ZdSigr
