But he was no Southland dragon, of that she was sure. She also had no idea where he’d come from, which was why she slowly brought her hand down and wrapped it around the metal stick she kept on her sword belt. A metal stick given to her years ago by master blacksmith Sulien.

“Praying to your gods, human?” the dragon asked.

“I pray to no god. Not anymore.”

“But choosing the right god will set you free.” He lowered his long neck until they were eye to eye, lifted one talon, and brought it to his snout. “Ssssssh, human,” he said on a whisper. “Let’s make this quick so no one has to get hurt.”

Izzy nodded and replied, “We can at least make it quick.” Then she brought Sulien’s weapon around and thought about what she needed at the moment. That’s all it took. A thought and the weapon extended in length and the flat tip turned to a spike. She took firm hold of the steel in both hands and rammed it forward, forcing it into the dragon’s eye and straight into his brain.

Izzy yanked out the weapon, the dragon roaring in pain, his claws covering the hole where his eye used to be. He’d be dead soon, so Izzy turned away from him and leaned over the balcony edge. That’s when she saw more dragons climbing up the side of the mountain. They did this, she guessed, because the flaps of their wings would signal their approach to any dragon within a league.

So if silence was what they wanted . . . it would not be what Izzy would give them.

Stepping back and lifting her weapon, the wonderful thing growing longer and wider with another thought, she opened her mouth and yelled out, “Éibhear!”

Éibhear had Fal pinned to the floor with his back claw and was about to start stabbing at his cousin with the tip of his tail when he heard Izzy call out his name. If she’d called anyone else, he’d have continued fighting. But Izzy would never call his name unless . . .

He unfurled his wings and lifted himself up above the fray going on in the cavern. “Mì-runach!” he bellowed out. “With me!”

Izzy wasn’t about to try to kill a swarm of dragons she knew very little about and had never faced in battle, and who outsized her. So, instead, she ran. Sometimes even the greatest warriors in the world needed to run—and she wasn’t the greatest warrior in the world.

Izzy ran, hoping she was heading toward Éibhear and the others, but she wasn’t sure. Even worse, she knew now that these attackers were after her. She knew it when she heard one call out, “She went down here! Go! Go!”

Wings scraped against tunnel walls, claws slapped against rock as the foreigners searched for her.

She had no idea what they wanted, but she wasn’t about to worry about it now. She just wanted to get someplace safe and—

A claw reached out from a dark cavern, Izzy seeing it too late to avoid it. It wrapped around her and yanked her into the darkness. She brought her weapon up, to strike at least once, but before any of that happened, the foreigner blew out a small breath. She felt something like sand hit her in the face and Izzy breathed it in before she could stop herself. Instantly her body went limp, her ability to fight or scream or anything else, for that matter, gone.

“Sleep, little human. Sleep,” the dragon soothed.

Since she was fairly certain she had no choice, that’s what Izzy did.

Éibhear blocked an axe to the face, slammed the weapon to the ground, and rammed his body into his attacker, shoving him into the wall. Éibhear thrust his sword into the attacker’s mouth and twisted. Once the body stopped moving, Éibhear pulled his sword out and turned toward all the fighting.

“Sand dragons. Breaking the alliance with my mother?” He shook his head. “No. That doesn’t seem right.”

Aidan, with a sword in each claw, impaled two enemy dragons running toward them. He ripped out his weapons, the dragons’ insides spilling onto the floor, and faced Éibhear. “Then what the f**k are they doing?”

“I don’t know.” He looked around. “And where the f**k is Izzy?”

Aidan shrugged, cut another Sand Eater in half. “Caswyn! Uther! You see Izzy?”

“No,” Caswyn called back from across the tunnel. “And we’ve been looking.”

“Éibhear!” Brannie came around the corner. “I found this.” She held up a metal stick.

“What’s that?”

“A weapon Uncle Sulien gave Izzy. She’d never leave it behind.”

“Then where is she?” Aidan asked.

“I don’t know. But there was no blood, no bones. If she was eaten, she’d never go down easy.”

“Oy!” Caswyn called out. “Hear that?”

Éibhear tried to listen around all the sounds of battle. At first, he didn’t know what Caswyn was talking about, but then he heard it. Barking.

Éibhear pushed past the battling dragons and ran out to one of the ledges. He leaned out and saw that stupid dog running straight into the desert. He’d refused to stay back in the town with the horses, unwilling to be too far from Izzy’s side. So they’d left him in a small cavern at ground level for his safety. Éibhear had forgotten all about him.

“Go,” Aidan ordered, pushing Éibhear’s travel bag at him. “Go. Get her. We’ll deal with this here, and come for you two later.”

“We don’t even know if she’s been taken.”

“That dog wouldn’t go anywhere without her. If we found him sobbing in a corner, I’d say she was dead. But he’s running after her. And if anyone can track her down, it’s that mangy mutt. Now go.”