I can’t argue with that.

I have to be honest—some childish part of me expects the dragon’s remains to spark to life as soon as I touch them, snarling at me as they shift into motion. Its stillness is almost as bad, coldly judging me from beyond the grave. I think of stories from my childhood of treasures that could only be claimed by the worthy, of faerie punishments and tricks.

I know I’m not a worthy hero. I’m just a changeling who happens to be small enough to slip between a dragon’s ribs.

The bone is smooth and warm to the touch, as if fire still lingers within. I have to brace both hands against it to push my way in. If I didn’t know it was bone, it probably wouldn’t send itchy chills crawling over my hands—but I do know that.

“Sorry,” I whisper, even though I’m almost completely sure it can’t hear me.

I kneel in the cage of bone, reaching for the egg. I can’t believe I’m really this close—to it, to the end, to the mysterious after.

As soon as my fingers touch the shell, a hum of life reverberates through my arm, warm and soft, the exact opposite of Gossamer’s enchantments. I shiver, heaving it up into my arms like an unwieldy toddler.

My arms wobble with the weight, and fear washes over me with the image of it dropping and shattering. “You should probably hold it.”

Raze looks at me sideways. “You don’t think I’m going to run off with it, never to be seen again?”

“Well, now I do.”

He reaches out, and I carefully push the egg back through the rib cage, lowering it into his large hands. “Everything will be okay,” he says, cradling it to his chest like a baby. I’m not sure if he’s talking to me, or the egg, or himself.

I wriggle my way back out and look over the crevice, sprawling out below us bathed in golden light.

“We need to move fast,” I say, shivering. “I don’t want to be here when night falls.”

This is it, then. I keep waiting for something else to happen, for another faerie trick, for an ambush, but nothing happens. Of course it isn’t as simple as I thought it would be, but soon enough, I’ll be headed home with my ransom of gold.

I’ll be losing Isolde.

I shake my head. She’ll change her mind. After everything that’s happened, she can’t still feel the same way. Everything will be fine, and just for a second, I want all the weight off my shoulders. I want to let myself feel light-headed with relief.

I rip a long piece of fabric from my voluminous skirts, which we tie into a sling Raze straps over his shoulder. With the egg nestled in against his torso, he looks like a father carrying his newborn at the market, and I can’t help a giggle at how ridiculous it is.

He glares, settling his hands protectively over the rounded lump. “Go ahead and laugh. By next summer, every gentleman is going to have an egg sling in his wardrobe.”