Briar looks longingly toward the horses once more before folding her arms across her chest and glancing back at the cage with a sigh. “Did those soldiers do that to the beast, I wonder?”
“Why would they? Dragons are valuable tools to Mouren. And that wound looks too severe to have been caused by human weapons. More likely that another dragon did it.”
“So, they've probably captured it with the intention of nursing it back to health, and then…”
She doesn't have to finish her thought. We both know what that rogue kingdom does with healthy dragons, and the thought opens a massive pit in my stomach.
Ihatedragons.
But I also hate the idea of the Mouren crown getting their hands on yet another one to use as a weapon against us.
“If we kill it now, it's one less problem we have to worry about later,” I point out.
“Dragon-slaying definitely wasn't part of the job we agreed to,” Briar deadpans. “Mavros isn't going to give us a bonus for this, you know.”
“It's a service to our world,” I say, creeping closer to the edge of the brush. “One I'm happy to perform for no charge.”
She mumbles something aboutpriorities.
“In or out?” I press.
I don't have to look at her to know she's glaring daggers at me.
Nevertheless, she sighs and asks, “What's the plan?”
“Give me a moment, I'm still making it up.”
“Oh,excellent.”
I go back to studying the scene before us. The woman and the strangely familiar soldier I’d been watching finish their conversation and turn to leave—but not before they both hold their lanterns up to inspect their captive one last time.
The woman hooks her lantern to a post beside the cage, leaving it behind. The dragon doesn't seem to be a fan of the flickering light being so close; it finally moves with some urgency, cowering into a darker corner of its tiny prison. The hiss it lets out this time echoes through the growing stillness of the camp, unsettling even from a distance.
Two other soldiers are positioned close to the cage, guarding it. I wait a few minutes to see if more make their way over, but none do. As my gaze falls on the flame dancing in the hanging lantern, a plan starts to form in my mind.
“You have more bloodroot oil on you?”
Briar digs a small vial out of her coat pocket and hands it to me, albeit reluctantly. “That stuff isn't cheap,” she mutters. “Reallycutting into the day's profit margins, now.”
“A bit of this on the top of that cage should be enough,” I continue, as though I haven't heard her. “I'll use that lantern to ignite the wood, opening up an escape and driving the dragon away from the camp.”
“Assuming the feeble thing actually manages to flee.”
“There's still life in its eyes. We give it an opportunity to run, it's going to run.”
“…And then we hunt it down and make quick work of finishing it off?”
“Exactly.”
She considers the landscape beyond the camp, and her muttering stops as she realizes we might actually have achance at success—because it's highly unlikely the soldiers surrounding us know those dust-covered hills and valleys better than we do.
“I guess you've come up with way worse plans than this,” she says with a shrug.
I ignore the slight and continue plotting. “Can you distract the ones standing guard?”
She scoffs, brushing a dead leaf from her sleeve. “Please. It won't even be a challenge, even if Iamhalf-asleep and covered in dust and grime.”
I give her a crooked smile. “There'sthe arrogant Briar I need. Now, let's move before more guards join those two.”
