Clearly, she has things under control.
I toss the burning stick onto theroof of the cage. The oil catches quickly, asI knew it would, but the wood itself isstubborn, glowing brighter and brighter without igniting. Smokebillows up in thick, dark plumes.
Too much.
The wood smolders with pops andhisses.
Too loud.
It seems to take an eternity beforeany flames truly take hold, eating through the slats with a slow, grudging appetite. Though it never truly turns into a proper blaze, it consumes enough of the roof to leave plenty of space for the dragon to slip out.
One of the men Briar is fighting bellows out an agonized cry before collapsing to the ground.
That's going to attract some attention.
As is the smoke stillrising in a dark column against the night sky, even as the fireburns itself out.
The dragon has yet to move—the damn thing is just glaring at me.
Is it too weak to climb out?
Shouts ringout from deeper in the camp.
Panicking, I set the lantern down and ram into the side of the cage as hard as I can. The wheelsscreech and grind. Bits of the roof’s charred, glowing wood crumpleand fall inward. Thesight stirs unpleasant memories, but I push them down, closing my eyes and throwing myself into the side of the cage again.
After a few more attempts, the dragon helps—whether on purpose or not, I'm not sure; but it finally shows signs of life, leaning into the bars on the opposite side. Between its weight and my shoving, we topplethe entire thing over.
After atense moment where neither of us moves, it squirms through the burned-out roof with alow, guttural sound, twisting around and fixing itsgolden eyes directly on me.
Outside the cage, it looks bigger. The size of alarge wolf, maybe. Its feathery wingsflail awkwardly about, as if it’s trying to tuck them against its heaving sides but can’t manage it; the right one looks like it’s barely attached.
It stumbles backas embers from the still-smoldering roofdrift toward it. Itreallydoesn't seem to like fire—which seems odd andwrong for one of its kind, but it's something I can use to my advantage.
I grab the lantern I'd set aside, using it to scare the beast into motion and chase it farther from the camp. As it serpentines its way across the cracked, dusty ground, Briar joins me; she's left boththe guards crumpled and lifeless in the dirt.
“Actually killing them?” I arch a brow. “Really? We were trying to avoid attracting attention, weren't we?”
“They got a little too adventurous with their hands.” She shrugs. “Also, it's notmyfault these Mouren fuckers don't know how to die a quiet, dignified death.”
I start to reply, but our conversation is cut short by the arrival ofreinforcements.
Chapter Three
Islam the vial of remaining bloodroot oil into a patch of dry grass nearby, shattering it, then break the lantern near the same spot.
The grass ignites with a violentwhoosh, forcing the newly-arrived soldiers to abandon us and focus on putting it out, lest they want to lose all the supplies in the wagonsnearby; in this drywasteland, it won't take any time for it all to go up in one giant inferno.
“Nicely done,” Briar says, flashing me a chaotic grin. “But now youdefinitelyowe me for that oil, just so we're clear.”
I can't help but return her unhinged smile. She usually catches more criticism about being the reckless one, but the truth is that I'd set fire to this entire camp just as quickly as she would.
And I'd probably enjoy watching it burn evenmorethan her.
I don't have time to stay and cheer on the flames, unfortunately; the dragon is nearly out of sight, loping along at asurprisingly quick pace even with its wings drooping pathetically along the ground behind it.
“After it!” Briar urges. “I'll trail behind you and pick off anyone who follows.”
In the next breath, she's running toward where she left her bow. I break into a sprint as well. Our splitting up causes even more confusion and chaos among our enemies, and I manage to slip away easily enough.
