Tate’s smile was pained. “I’m your friend. Tatum Allegra Winters.”
Ai frowned, the expression awkward and unwieldy on a face that had probably not known expressions in an eternity. “And who am I?”
Tate held out a hand to her. “My friend. Ai.”
Slowly, hesitantly, Ai took Tate’s hand, allowing Tate to draw help her off the console. She looked around with a distant gaze, taking in her surroundings with the same detached expression as the old Ai.
There was a screech from above as a phalanx of dragonlettes, led by a dragon Tate recognized as Daisy’s, swept out of the entrance leading to the rest of the tunnels.
They circled above their heads, their screeches echoing in the wide space.
“What are they doing here?” Tate asked, staring up at them as a few batted their wings against the ceiling and their foreclaws clung to almost nonexistent holds.
Daisy’s dragon winged toward them, landing in front of Dewdrop where she warbled before butting her head against his chest.
“Dewdrop.” Tate’s voice cracked with authority.
“I have no idea, Tate, I swear. When the sleepers came for me and it was clear we couldn’t all escape, I gave Daisy the cube and told her to run. I guess they didn’t listen.”
Tate fixed Daisy’s dragon, Skye, with a look. “I guess not.”
Tate could feel a headache coming on. With effort, she pushed aside her concern and rebukes. Nathan was dead and even if he hadn’t been, she couldn’t say she wouldn’t have done exactly as the dragonlettes had in their place.
Though she did wonder how they’d managed to find this place.
The dragonlette followed her bonded’s link to the young one,Ilith whispered.
Tate frowned. Link? What link?
Ilith didn’t answer, falling silent as they both became aware of the mournful croons from the dragonlettes, who gathered around one of the cages.
Thora.
Tate and Ryu shared a look, grief in both their eyes at what they suspected they’d find. Her hand slipped into his as they made their way toward his now open cage.
Ben was seated as far away from Thora as he could in the small cell, still holding the unconscious body of the real Lord Provost protectively in his arms. “Thora’s been like this since the interloper hit him with the relic.”
Tate froze as she caught her first glimpse of Thora’s mishappen body, still caught in a partial transformation.
More dragon than human, he lay on his side, his labored pants almost soundless.
The dragon-human rolled his eyes toward them.
Tate forced herself to move in his direction, kneeling at Thora’s side as a sick feeling washed over her.
Her perception of time was warped because of her short stint in the med bed but from one look she could tell their shift had been delayed for far too long. The fact they were still alive was a miracle in and of itself.
Ryu’s hand clasped her shoulder, his face a mask of pain as he took in his oldest friend. The knowledge that things didn’t look good for him was written on his face.
“Thora,” Tate said in a choked voice.
“Little Queen.”
Not Thora then.
“Dragon.”
The smile he gave her was weary. “After all this time of fighting him, we are finally dying.”
