Page 60 of Taloned Heart

And yet, as she carried the young man up Abraxas’s wing and sat down with him, Lore couldn’t for the life of her see a better way forward than the dwarves. They were officially on the run now.

But at least Zephyr was safe.

CHAPTER23

CHAPTER 23

He’d never been more proud of her and more worried at the same time.

What Lore had done back there... To her own people? He’d seen nothing like it. And though he agreed with what she’d done—he likely would have left them there to rot as well—it made him afraid to know what would come next.

Her logic was sound. They had never done anything for her. And he’d tried to soothe that ache by reminding her how many people she now who called her family. All of that was true, and it should ease the pain a little.

But she could do that to other elves. He knew Lore understood the implications of leaving them there. Margaret might not even go into the dungeons. The littered mess of dead bodies in the courtyard and the charred corpses on the ramparts were enough for anyone to guess who had been there.

Lore may very well have condemned those elves to death. And a cruel one at that. They would wither in the darkness, slowly wasting away until they realized no one was coming for them. By then, it would be too late.

He didn’t know what was next. They’d gotten Zephyr safe and sound, but there was still a kingdom to save. Part of him, likely the same part that Lore was battling, wanted to continue onward. They could pick Beauty up along the way, and then they would disappear into the sunset.

If Beauty wanted them to bring her father, the more the merrier. Abraxas had carried two dragonlings all the way to the dragon isles. Four humans were nothing at this point.

And no one would know. No one could find his homeland, even if they tried. And if Margaret wanted to make that journey, or had the courage to do so, then she would be greeted by a wall of dragons. Even she wasn’t so foolish.

But that would, unfortunately, leave the kingdom at Margaret’s beck and call. That would still leave the problem right here when they had fought so hard to fix what was broken.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Lore said, her voice whispering over his shoulder. “We cannot.”

“I know,” he growled back. “I know we cannot take them to safety, but that does not make it easier to see him like this. To know that we might have, under better circumstances, saved him.”

It was unlikely that they would have saved him, though. Even Abraxas knew that. If they were here, Margaret would have hidden him better. She would have maybe killed him and found some sorcerer who would make a lookalike for Zephyr to still be a walking, talking puppet for the kingdom to see.

There were still humans to save. People who were not the way they should be. And it broke his heart to know that in making an attempt to save them all, they would have to risk their friends again.

Banking hard, he soared over the waters and dipped his wings in the salt spray. It turned to mist at his touch and sprayed back upon his riders. Though Zephyr was likely still freezing cold, Abraxas could feel the boy’s heat pressing against his back. Zephyr’s wounds had already turned toward a fever, and that meant they were running out of time.

“I don’t want to go back to the dwarves for long,” Lore said, pausing in the middle of the thought to whisper more healing spells against Zephyr’s hair. “They have protected us for too long. The risk for them is too great.”

He had thought about the same thing. Abraxas sat with the thought until they reached the familiar clearing. He landed quietly and softly, so as not to disturb the two people on his back. And as Lore clambered off, he knew where they had to go next. Although it was a greater risk than he wanted to take.

He turned back into his mortal form and then spun to gather Zephyr in his own arms. Meeting Lore’s gaze, he said the words that he knew she was thinking but didn’t want to consider. “The Ashen Deep.”

“They could very well have sided with Margaret. They have no love for us.” She shifted a strand of hair away from Zephyr’s slick forehead. “The chances of them being willing to help are very low. Especially with a wounded mortal.”

“A wounded prince,” Abraxas corrected. “I have a hard time believing the Matriarch would fall for any of Margaret’s lies. Draven came with you, didn’t he? That has to count for something.”

“I don’t think his mother was aware that he was going to travel across the kingdom and come with me,” Lore replied, her voice wry and amused. “I imagine the woman will have a lot to say when she sees us all, and a few choice words about stealing her son. But we will discuss this again soon. We need to get him inside.”

The unspoken fear was still there. That Margaret perhaps knew where they had fled. That already there were armies marching through the forest just out of their sight, and that they may have brought death to this clearing once again.

He nodded. “She knows the dwarves exist. Didn’t Algor say they were working on some kind of treaty before the dwarves denied her?”

“So she has no love for these people and likely no respect left either.” Lore’s lips pressed into a thin, disgusted line. “If we do not leave, she will know we are here. I fear she will still retaliate against them, even if we have moved on. The dwarves are not prepared for what she will bring with her.”

“Actually,” the voice of the dwarven king interrupted them. “We are well prepared for that. But I am touched that the Fallen Star herself fears for our wellbeing. Perhaps we have done something right after all.”

They both turned toward the voice, and Abraxas was relieved to see the king was alone. At least the man knew enough to not have a large presence waiting for them.

Algor ambled over, his hands clasped behind his back, and peered up at Zephyr. “So, this is the boy?”

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