Page 122 of Realm of Thieves

Then he starts running toward Lemi.

“Fuck,” I grumble, getting the arrow onto the notch and running after him, keeping my eye on the skies, even though there will be no missing a deathdrage’s arrival.

“You cover me,” he says, approaching the eggs. “I’ll get this sorted.”

He picks the smallest one, its scales tinged with metallic green, and pushes it back and forth. “I think it’s fertilized.” He does the same to the others, which move much more easily than the first one. “Yep. These aren’t fertilized. That one is. If I’m quick enough I’ll try to extract suen from the others.”

“Just hurry,” I tell him. “I don’t want mama coming back.”

He spreads out his satchel on the ground and rolls the egg on top of it before closing the bag back up. “Easy,” he says. “Might as well get some suen while we’re here.”

A little too easy, I think, as the hair on the back of my neck stands up, my stomach sour.

Suddenly Lemi barks and shifts, making Andor stop just before he’s plunged the extractor into the egg. Lemi then appears on top of the rock wall, staring into the distance and barking repeatedly.

“Andor, we have to go now,” I tell him. “I don’t want to wait to see what he’s barking at.”

“Just a minute,” he says, plunging it in.

“Andor!” I yell. “Just stop and—”

I’m cut off by a terrible screech that rattles my bones and a whumping sound that blows back my hair.

Lemi shifts just in time as a deathdrage flies over the wall, heading right to Andor. It’s so big it nearly blots out the sky.

“Andor, run!” I scream, aiming the bow at the dragon and letting the arrow fly. It hits the neck but bounces right off, its hide too thick. I pull out another and another as Andor abandons the eggs and starts running toward me, Lemi nowhere in sight. This time the arrows hit the dragon but they don’t slow it down.

It’s coming right for us.

I don’t know what to do.

Andor is running and it’s catching up and in a few seconds it will be upon him. He’s not on the defensive, he’s trying to get away, and he’s as vulnerable as he’ll ever be.

So I start running toward him.

Toward the dragon as it swoops toward us, each powerful blast from the wings enough to almost knock me backward.

But I don’t stop.

I throw the bow to the ground and pull out my ash-glass swords, wondering if I could somehow run up on Andor, if I could use him as leverage and leap up onto the dragon’s head, stabbing my swords through its skull.

It has to work, I think. It has to.

But then Andor’s boot slips on the loose pebbles underfoot and he stumbles for a moment.

I’m screaming, praying for him not to fall.

He doesn’t.

He manages to right himself.

Staring at me with that cocky smile of his.

Right before the dragon lands behind him, making the earth shake.

Both of us fall to the ground, and I’m scrambling to my feet staring at Andor through the clearing dust, watching as he tries to get up.

Watching as the dragon lunges forward.

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