Asdren gave me that look. The one that said he was running out of patience. I pressed my lips together.
“I know you have, Chirp. But we need verification from a higher-up, so what we’ll do is send that crow of yours—”
“Raven.”
His inhale and exhale was akin to a bellows. “Right. Thatravenof yours will take a message to your friends in Celear as soon as we get out of the tunnels. They can write back, and all will be good. If the wyrmling is divine like Chirp claims, then the wood elves can come claim him. If not, then we do what needs done.” He looked from me to his sellswords. “We all agree on that?”
“Fine, but I don’t want that thing close to me. My clan lost four hundred warriors to those blighted bastards,” Smuta spat and narrowed her eyes at Jaculi. I squinted at her. They could say they would do what was needed, but I would ride to the very ends of Melowynn with Jaculi at my side to protect him. No one would harm him. We were bonded now in some sort of way I did not fully understand but felt in my breast.
“None that you knew,” I whispered, got a glower from the female, and then decided to take myself off to work on a fire. My gut was eating itself, Jaculi needed warmth, and we all needed to allow our emotions to settle. The dwarves continued talking in their own tongue, while I threw what remained of our kindling into a pile far from them. Kneeling down, I struck flint to dried lichen to start the flames. Then I sat on my heels asJaculi slithered down from my shoulders to stretch out in front of the fire like an old dog on a sunny porch. I ran a hand over his back, reveling in the bumps along his long spine.
Warm is good. I need food.
There are rats in the tunnels that you can catch once you are warmed up enough.
Rats. Show me. Show me rats. Tell me of dandelions.
I blinked at the wyrmling studying me with bright eyes.
The short one said you feast on dandelions. What are they? Would they fill me?
You are far more intelligent than I expected.
We are born wise. My mind was cold. Now it is warm. My thoughts clearer.
That made sense. I was about to try to explain dandelions when the squeak of a rat in the shadowed tunnels reached us. Jaculi’s head jerked in the direction of the sound. Before I could say the word vermin, the dragonling was off, long thin body darting into the dark tunnel, small wings lifting it awkwardly into the air, where he disappeared. I sat on my heels, stunned, as a squeal echoed out of the shaft. Within a moment, Jaculi emerged with a rat the size of a tan ferret in his jaws. He padded past the dwarves with his prize and came to sit with me to rip into it with vigor.
I glanced at the sellswords. They all appeared stricken with horror. I smiled as only a proud parent could and then wondered if, when he was the size of the dragoness in the next chamber, would he tear into an elf with the same relish? I hoped he took to his lessons better than I ever had, or we were all doomed.
