toward the corridor, and on the others’ faces she saw the shock and indecision that had rendered them speechless.
“I will take my chances with the dragon,” said Lizzan.
They must have all agreed, for as a group they raced along the scaly hide, and from the shadows and shapes she glimpsed—the edge of a wing, the curve of a talon—she gained the sense that they were running toward its head. Then she was certain of it, as they sky above them grew faintly brighter, and more she could see than just what fell in the torch’s glow.
“There is the stair.” Aerax pointed ahead, and Lizzan gave a breathless laugh, for there was nothing else to do.
To reach the stair, they only had to race past the dragon’s snout, with its massive jaws and teeth. They only had to run straight into its view.
A screech split the air, seemed to tear open the difference between night and dawn, for Lizzan could see full well as the dragon lifted its enormous head and turned its gaze toward them.
The entire world seemed to move, but it was just that massive body shifting its position alongside them, a sinuous wall of black scales and wings.
“To the stair!” Kelir shouted over the screeching that was growing ever louder. “As fast as you can! Do not stop!”
Though Ardyl and Kelir were going to, Lizzan realized, faltering. She stole a glance back and saw that they’d come to a halt, weapons drawn as they faced the oncoming wraith. As if intending to slow it so everyone else could escape. Yet the wraith would tear right through them . . . and she could not let it.
“Do not stop, Aerax!” she shouted at him before spinning back, knowing that he’d follow but hoping to race faster. She passed the others and they, too, looked back, and her heart thundered as they fell in behind.
“Let me!” Lizzan shouted at the warriors ahead. “I’ll slow it!”
Ardyl and Kelir gave no indication that they’d heard her even as she planted herself between them, her sword drawn. The wraith stalked toward them, fingers clicking, reddened eyes sweeping over them in a hungry stare that lifted every hair on her skin.
“Go,” she snarled at the Parsatheans. Then Aerax was at her side and determination gripped her throat, for she was here to protect him.
So she would.
On a deep breath, she stepped forward—and the dragon flicked a wing. In stunned silence, she watched the wraith’s twisted body shoot through the air and slam into the chamber wall, falling to the stone floor with a clatter.
Then get to its feet again.
“To the stair,” Kelir said quietly, backing up. “Let them fight it out, but we will not stay here to be crushed.”
Nodding, Lizzan backed with him—unable to turn, unable to look away as the wraith charged toward them, screeching. The dragon could flick the wraith away a hundred times, yet still it would come again. So she would not turn away until—
Aerax threw her to the ground, covering her body with his even as the world turned to fire overhead. The dragon’s blast caught the wraith full on, and still it came; Lizzan’s eyes watered as she watched the wraith continue forward through the engulfing flames but slower . . . slower, dripping bits of molten rock from its fingers, its feet softening and spreading until the screeching stopped, and there was only a thick, bubbling mass slowly spreading across the chamber floor.
“Melted,” Lizzan whispered in awe.
Aerax huffed a quiet laugh in her ear before his weight disappeared from her back. He helped her up, and she held him tight for a precious moment before turning toward the others.
“The stairs now?” Kelir asked. “Or do we go back the way we came?”
“First we free it,” Aerax said.
Lizzan looked to the dragon and saw what Aerax already had—the thin silver chain around its long neck. “Do you think it will let us?”
“More importantly,” Ardyl said, “will it eat us?”
Aerax shook his head. “If it meant to kill us, it would have already.”
“It could have cooked us,” Seri agreed.
Lizzan nodded, yet even accepting that the dragon had no interest in killing them, it was with trepidation that she approached its head. Eyes of liquid black watched her and Aerax as they stopped at a small distance to study the chain. No locks could she see—and the chain itself was fastened around its neck on a slipknot that would tighten if the dragon pulled against it. The other end