Dalain and Sabre came in. Zuri clearly decided this was far too many strangers, and she rose, her wings extending as she hissed. Tova stopped short, snorting in alarm. Daigo growled.
"That . . . that is a dragon," Dalain said.
"Brilliant deduction," Sabre said. "Well, since both you girls are alive, I suppose it didn't need that much blood. My suggestion, though? Let's leave the big one sleeping. Now, if we can please get aboveground before that army arrives?"
"But . . ." Dalain looked at her. "It's a dragon."
"Yes, dragon." She jabbed an emphatic finger at the cave exit. "Army. May we go, your lordship?"
"Moria's injured," Tyrus said. "She cannot--"
"No, I think I can . . ." She pushed to her feet and staggered, Ashyn and Tyrus leaping up to catch her before she fell.
"You cannot, Keeper," Gavril said as he strode over. "But Sabre is right. We need to move."
"I can wait here," Moria said. "I have my daggers and my wildcat. And a dragon."
Gavril gave her a look. "All of which only means they will be captured with you. Then my father can drain the rest of your blood to wake her." He pointed at the mother dragon.
"Gavril, you should take her," Ashyn said. "I know you would rather fight, but she'll need someone to help her move to safety. Someone skilled with a blade and with healing magics in case her wound reopens."
Gavril said he would, and tried not to look relieved. Moria and Ashyn both knew he would rather not fight, given who led the opposing army. Her sister was giving him an honorable way out, even if it did mean separating moments after saying they would not. Sadly, no such promises could be given anymore.
They made plans for reuniting. Gavril would get Moria to an abandoned farmhouse they'd passed on the way in, and she would rest there until Ronan came to fetch them. Tyrus would lead the others, fighting or fleeing, depending on the situation.
With both Gavril and Tyrus supporting Moria, they headed out of the cavern, Tyrus giving orders to the others as they walked. As for the dragon . . . when they started to leave, she seemed to have eaten enough to regain her walking strength. Moria had grabbed the hunk of meat and was cutting strips for her as they moved. She hand-fed the dragon--whose head reached her waist--but by the time they got out of the cave, Zuri was using her wings to propel jumps and snatch the strips as soon as Moria cut them.
"Here then," Moria said, giving her half the rest. "Serve yourself."
A flurry of teeth and claws and chomps and growls . . . and the chicken-sized hunk of meat was gone.
"Everyone?" Sabre said. "Keep your hands away from the dragon baby."
When they prepared to separate, Zuri hesitated, looking from Moria to Tyrus. Daigo moved alongside Moria with a grunt that stated his intention to stay with his wounded bond-mate, and Zuri flew to Tyrus.
Partings were quick. Ashyn gingerly embraced Moria and told her to stay safe. Tyrus did the same, adding a kiss. The kiss seemed brief enough, until Sabre told them to hurry it up. Then Gavril put his arm under Moria's and helped her away, Daigo prowling ahead of them, watching for trouble.
FORTY
The camp looked like a battlefield.
Because it was.
A half-dozen bodies lay strewn across the blood-spattered ground. As Gavril led Moria past them, one stirred, his clothes so bloodied she couldn't tell which side he'd fought on, but Gavril lowered Moria to the ground, went over, and ended his suffering without a word. Then he gathered her up and continued on.
Riding in, the farmhouse had seemed so close. Now, as Moria realized exactly how badly she'd been hurt, their destination felt an impossible distance away.
Her side split open again. She felt the blood drip and told herself it was not enough to war
rant stopping. Then it began to stream down her side, and she knew she ought to tell Gavril, but that's when they spotted the farmhouse in the distance--and riders on the horizon--and Moria knew if they paused, those riders would draw close enough to spot them. So she gritted her teeth against the pain and said nothing.
Daigo had been scouting ahead. When he circled back to them, he lifted his black head above the long grass, his nostrils flaring. Then he bounded to Moria and growled.
"I'm fine," she said.
He growled at Gavril.
"Yes," Gavril said. "I'm doing something wrong. I have no idea what it is, but I'm sure I am doing something you disapprove of."