The poachers behind the leader step back as I break out of their contraption. Which tells me two things. One, others may hold silver weapons, but they aren’t all silver-crafters. And two, they are uncertain of our skill sets. But I want more than uncertain. I want them or whoever has directed them here to regret ever finding out about this cave. My mind flares that this is Mr. Murphy’s doing, but I can’t dwell on how much these men might have been offered to poach Nity. I focus on the ten threats in front of me.
Nity isn’t sitting back waiting either. She plates herself in gold and her haunches rise in spikes. The reaction, even behind masks, resonates in each man’s body language. Awestruck by her size and brilliance. Their uncertainty grows.
“It’s real,” one poacher whispers. “It’s really agoldendragon.”
Two other men bound forward, copper and bronze spikes crafted into their hands like throwing spears. Another loads a crossbow and I clock it immediately for what it is—a tranquilizer. They mean to put her down and rip each golden scale off one by one like the wyverns my family has saved. But I also know this. Even in that savagery, taking her gold won’t be enough. She’s the only known golden dragon in existence. No one would settle for one coat when they could potentially have an unlimited cash cow. They’ll want to take her. Knock her out and take her.
The men with the spears close in, ready to throw, and I have seconds to decide what to do.
“I’ll take bronze,” James says beside me and even with three words Iknow what he means, how we’ll work together. Channeling my focus, I wrench that copper spear out of the poacher’s hands and fling it sideways so hard the metal digs a foot deep into the wall. James does the same with the bronze.
We’re stronger. We’re better. We can—
Five spears soar through the air, an array of silver, bronze, and copper. Those first two were feints and this, this is the real trap. Nity roars, ready to bash those spears away. But Nity still has those patches of missing scales from shedding. If she’s hit in those chinks in her armor, she could die in an instant. Her vulnerability screams at me to do something.Do something!
On instinct and pure fear, I call to the gold stacks behind me and craft the metal to spread out like a shield in front of us. One moment later those five spears slam into my barrier. The golden wall indents, five sharp puncture wounds, but they don’t pierce through. Because no other dragon metal can pierce through gold. I can still do this. We can still win.
James looks at me before his eyes flash toward the spear indent right in front of him. An indent a mere foot away from his forehead. They had aimed to kill, and more than just Nity.
“Farren,” he breathes. In thanks, admiration, or fear, I’m unsure.
Beyond the wall of gold the masked men spout a string of curses. Their shock comes out like anger, a mad rush of outrage. “She’s a gold-crafter?” one hollers above the rest. “No one told us a freaking gold-crafter would be guarding our mark.”
My veins ice at the wordmark.
“No one knew gold-crafting was even possible,” another answers in irritation.
“Nice trick,” that same lead poacher shouts. “But what are you going to do, build a wall and trap yourself?” He gestures to the small space to my right where my golden metal isn’t covering. His words hold a smile as he continues with, “By all means make my job easier, little bird, and cage yourself in.”
Little bird?I’m a little bird? If I’m anything with wings, I’m a dragon.
The men’s footfalls sound on the cavern floor. They are charging us. Trying to override our crafting with muscle and manpower. Even if I’m a better crafter than them it’s still two against ten.
My eyes fixed on the poacher, I shift more golden scales to finish off the wall. With a wave of metal, I cut us off from light and the world slams into darkness. Thankfully, the last thing I hear is the frustrated growl of the head poacher. I called his bluff and I was right. He didn’t want me doing that.
“Farren?” James calls through the darkness.
“James.”
I step toward where I last saw him and promptly trip on my dress. Without second guessing I craft a golden piece into a blade sharp enough to cut the fabric at my knee. The dress rips in a loud anguished tear. As I look back up Feyling lights dance above us, which produce enough light to spot James’s concern three feet away. In two strides he’s hugging me to him.
“Good job, Farren. You’ve bought us time.”
A rattling sob threatens to escape from my throat, from my every pore. Over James’s shoulder Nity paces in frustration and anxiety. She’s going to break this thing down and charge right at these men if we don’t do somethingand soon.
“I’ve bought us minutes,” I whisper.
“Little bird?” the poacher calls out. I guess we are on to negotiations. “Little bird, if you don’t craft this wall down, we might just have to attend that party down the road. It sounds fun. And I saw there are some dragons up there too. Plenty of entertainment to be had while you sit in the dark.”
James’s eyes widen at the threat just as mine do. “We can’t stay here,” he rushes. He wastes no time discarding his coat and tie and calling to Hort who’s silver coated in protection and standing firm behind us.
“Craft a hole big enough for Hort and me to get through, and I’ll draw them away.”
I’m already shaking my head. “They came for Nity.” They won’t leave here without Nity. No distraction could work and if it did, I’d be allowing him to sacrifice himself.
“I’m getting us out of here,” I say. “Best-case scenario, they never learn about the hatchlings. It’s too risky for them to leave and be seen. So, we’ll keep them hidden in the tunnels. If any of these men stay, protect the babies. If they don’t, fly to the wedding.”
“What do you mean if they stay? How are you going to draw them away?”
