“Do you know that your Dragon breath stinks?” Valerius asked.
Illarion let out a laugh. “Ah, I do not believe your insults now, Valerius. You looked at me with love.”
“What?!” Valerius glared at him.
“Brotherly love.” Illarion smirked as he dropped down on his haunches and inspected Valerius’ wound. “And you called me magnificent.”
“I--I called Mephous magnificent.”
“Same thing.” Illarion grinned.
“You are all right, too. But believe me that we are not our Dragons. Not completely,” Valerius said as he thought of his weakness now.
Illarion let out a hiss, ignoring Valerius’ words, secure in the fact that he and Mephous were one. “This isn’t healing. You’re not going to drop dead from it, but it looks infected or something. Vozyth must have had some poison on her claws.”
“My leg feels numb,” Valerius confessed.
“Can you still walk?” Illarion stood up. “I can carry you.”
“Fireman’s carry or bride over the threshold?” Valerius asked dryly.
Illarion stared at him before letting out a snort. “Bride for sure! But, in all seriousness, we should get a move on. If you can…”
“I can. If I have to, I will crawl,” Valerius said.
“Then let us go.”
Illarion turned to head into the tunnel. Valerius grasped his arm. Illarion looked back at him with a lifted eyebrow.
“Illarion… thank you,” Valerius said. “I would be dead without you. Many times over. I am grateful you are here with me.”
Illarion’s expression went blank for a second, which told Valerius he had struck something deep inside of the Green Dragon Shifter. A faint smile appeared on Illarion’s lips.
“When I tell this tale--and I will, repeatedly--you will repeat these sweet nothings for all to hear!” Illarion grinned.
“Of course,” Valerius deadpanned. “And I shall tell them of your bad breath as well, which I am convinced knocked Vozyth out before you ripped off her head.”
Illarion wagged a finger at him, clucking his amusement. They said nothing more though as they headed down the tunnel. They knew to keep quiet though surely the Behemoth--and the horde--must know what happened to Vozyth and that they were coming.
The tunnel was empty of the horde though there was still evidence of their crossing. And a humming sound was rising up from the tunnel. The tunnel sloped downwards and there appeared to be a flickering light at the far end. The humming had solidified into chanting.
“This does not sound good,” Illarion whispered.
Valerius, who was limping and bleeding, just gave a nod.
They crouched low and crept to the end of the tunnel, staying back from the light. They didn’t have to worry though. The tunnel opened up into a huge cavern where stalactites hung from the ceiling high overhead and there was a raw, stone altar at the far wall. Between them and this far wall was a sea of people. Hundreds of them. All chanting.
The horde.
And on the altar was a single, lithe figure.
Caden.
Face-Off
Caden clung to Raziel’s back as they flew to the crater. His eyes stung and watered as the air whipped over him. He had to squint to see, but the crater was huge and the Behemoth sat in the center in it like some monstrous spider so it was hard to miss.
The many heads snapped and snarled at each other and at the air as if simply enraged at the other’s existence. The tails whipped across the ground, scouring more earth from the crater’s bottom while others smashed downwards, crushing stone and pummeling dirt. Its heads flung back and let out roars. Lightning, fire, water, gas and more gushed into the air creating a storm above the heads. Caden hunkered further down against Raziel’s back.
