Steelhands - Jaida Jones [212]
“Of course,” Antoinette said without hesitation. “I’ll make arrangements at once.”
Just as I was about to ask how we’d make it across Miranda with a dragon in tow—obviously, I could hardly leave her here unsupervised—the sound of shifting rock and dirt broke once more through the silence of the audience chamber.
If it was another dragon, I really didn’t know what we’d do. Just one had already caused damage enough, though at the same time, we were all beholden to her for her help.
Antoinette took her place once more beside the Esarina, and I stayed crouched next to the Esar, tensed for whatever might next be thrown our way.
Don’t worry, Balfour, the dragon said, apparently having sensed the sudden chill in the room. She hadn’t tensed; in fact, it appeared to me as though she was inspecting one of her sharp claws. It’s only a friend. She’s awfully cranky, sometimes, and rarely clever, but she means well.
I barely had time to wonder what she meant by that before another dragon poked its head out of the hole. She was mostly gold, with patches of other metals soldered to her carapace; I barely had time to admire her before she’d squirmed her way into the room with us, followed by Laure, then Adamo, then the rest of our ragtag rescue team, like rabbits being smoked out of a warren. They looked very much the same as I felt—as though they’d been buried, then dug back up again like a dog’s prized bone—but no one was missing, and everyone seemed to have their limbs all in the right place.
For a raid, Adamo always said, those were good statistics.
Last to exit the tunnel was the young man in the green uniform, whose name I seemed to have misplaced in the shuffle.
“I wondered if we’d be seeing you again soon,” Antoinette said, not looking particularly shaken, though I saw her cast a sharp look over at the new dragon, her lips tight. After all the trouble that’d been caused for their sake, I understood the source of her animosity even if I didn’t share it.
I checked the Esar again to make sure he was still breathing. If he was aware of anything that was currently happening, it wasn’t apparent. I wondered if what I’d felt hadn’t been his last breaths—but then I saw his chest rise and fall a second time. His breathing was shallow, but it was definitely there.
“More dragons,” the Esarina murmured. “How many are there, exactly?”
“Four,” Adamo grunted, looking around. “Appears as if we missed the battle.”
“Got caught in one of our own,” Ghislain explained.
“Just a small one,” Luvander said.
“And we didn’t do much,” Raphael admitted.
“I told Cornflower to keep watch over the others in the tunnel,” the young man in the green uniform explained. “I promised I’d go back for her soon, but we wanted to make sure everything was all right up here, first. She’ll let me know lightning-quick if anything goes wrong, but Ironjaw was in such a state after them two ganged up on her, and Troius didn’t have so many men with him that it’d be a problem for my girl to take care of.”
“Forgive me, but I understood so little of what you just said that I fear you might as well have been speaking a foreign language,” the Esarina said, wringing her hands together. “And my husband is still in great need of medical care.”
I saw Adamo looking around the room, noticing the Esar for the first time, then the guards cowering in the corner, then me and my vigil. My dragon, of course, he’d seen right away—that was one thing he was trying his best not to look at, which was a sentiment I could understand. It was difficult for me to look at her as well, but I didn’t wish to give offense for a second time.
The rest of the group looked bone-tired. Even Ghislain wasn’t standing as straight as he usually did, though that could have been attributed to all that crouching in the small tunnels. But how Raphael was still on his feet, I’d never know. Stubbornness had a great deal to do with it, I’d imagine. Even Laure, who’d been raring to go since