Four steps. Five.

But that was as far as I got before Paorah grabbed me and spun me around, like he wanted me to die looking at him, the man who’d arranged for the Mira Treaty to be written and signed, only so that he could tear it apart. The man who’d steal dragons to force them to entreat our gods, only to let them wither to the brink of death. The man who’d made a deal with the Algotti Empire, only so that he could attack them, conquer them.

He promised wonders but delivered destruction.

And then—

An earsplitting shriek rent the air as LaLa stooped, flame spilling from her jaws. Then her wings flared, and she shifted so that her talons reached forward—and my sweet little dragon gouged Paorah’s eyes, blowing fire all across his face.

He ducked and tried to shield himself, but he was too late.

The knife dropped.

I didn’t waste time. Gasping for breath, I hurled myself toward the first dragon. Closer, closer. A wispy part of my mind marveled at my LaLa. How incredible that she’d come to my rescue, even in the throes of her own grief. Any other time an earthquake had been nearing, she’d been inconsolable, unreachable. But when she felt my peril, she’d come straight for me. I didn’t deserve such devotion, but I loved her more than ever.

Fifty strides.

Blackness curled at the corners of my vision. I pushed onward, struggling to keep my focus on the wooden platform, the bones, and the place I’d need to climb up.

Twenty strides.

My vision went gray, and my feet started to trip over each other. I fell, landing heavily on my good hand, but still the agony in my back and shoulder spiked. I cried out, vomited from the pain, and struggled to crawl forward. But now I was lost. I couldn’t see, and I didn’t know which direction to go. And with all the blood seeping out of my body, I didn’t have time to go the wrong way.

Surely I hadn’t come so far only to fail.

Then, a pinprick of light found my eyes—fire—and gusts of air fanned against my face.

LaLa.

I made a strangled noise of relief, gulping at the marginally cooler wind made from her wings, and followed the dim light of her fire. Crawling, groping over the rocks and broken wheels in front of me, but moving.

My knees banged against the debris, my blood-sticky hands stung with grit, and I could feel the consciousness draining out of me, but I had to be close.

Another spark of light urged me onward, but a faint roar of blood filled my ears, drowning all my thoughts. I couldn’t move my hurt shoulder anymore, and my back—and whatever he’d punctured there—was a knot of agony, spreading outward. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t—

I pushed my failing body forward once more, and that was it. I dropped. The rush in my head was so loud I couldn’t even hear the clatter of wood and dirt, but something sharp dug into my sternum. I couldn’t roll off it.