Doravan didn’t know how long he sat under the remains of the tree, waiting to see some sign of life. He knew he couldn’t get back to Mengor on his own, and maybe it was time to just give up, surrender to the inevitable Hoarder.

  The great dragon flew straight over him, sending ripples through the smoke in the air. Doravan coughed and covered his mouth with his shirt. It didn’t block all of the smoke, but he could breathe a little more easily.

  Then he heard the piercing, tragic wail of a baby.

  “Doravan,” a raspy voice creaked.

  Doravan rose to his feet. “Amalla?! Amalla, is that you?!”

  The voice groaned, and Doravan picked through the rubble. “Keep making sound; I’m coming for you!”

  He finally found her. He ran to her side and found her hips and legs pinned beneath a felled tree. The baby was a few feet away from her, wriggling out of its bundle and crying.

  “Grab the baby,” Amalla whispered. “We have to get out of here before she suffocates.”

  Doravan scooped up the little girl. He expected her to be heavy, but she couldn’t have weighed more than ten pounds. He gently lowered her into one arm and tried to kick the tree off of Amalla.

  “Just take the baby,” the princess insisted. “I’ll be fine. Shen’al will come for me.”

  “Shen’al might be gone.” Doravan kicked and shoved–even without a baby in his arms, he might not have been able to do it. The tree was massive. It would be a miracle if Amalla still had use of her legs after this. “We can’t rely on him coming back, and I am not taking care of this kid without you.”

  A powerful screech rocked the air, and Doravan shielded Amalla and the baby with his body. He waited for the agony of dragon fire, but it never came. Instead, a deep roar echoed the screech.

  Thinking back on it, Doravan realized that the screech sounded familiar.

  Shen’al dove through the smoke, narrowly missing Doravan’s head. The dragon screeched again and let out a stream of white-blue fire. The fire spewed straight into the eyes of the attacking Hoarder, who roared and writhed. He dove straight to the ground, still twisting in pain.

  “Shen’al!” Doravan cried. He had lost track of the dragon in the new smoke. Then Shen’al burst out of the haze and threw the log off of Amalla’s legs. He grabbed the princess and Doravan, then swooped right into the air.

  Doravan’s stomach flipped, and he clutched the baby. She squirmed and protested, but he was terrified of dropping her. He couldn’t see the ground, and if she fell she would be lost forever.

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  “He won’t be bothering us for a while,” Shen’al said. “I think I blinded him.”

  “Permanently?” Doravan asked through gritted teeth. He wanted to be impressed with his dragon, but he could hardly think about anything but the threat of tumbling through the air and down to the ground below. He scrunched inside the dragon’s talon.

  Amalla moaned, and Doravan dared to peek out at her. Her legs looked completely smashed, and he didn’t know how she had kept her complaints in until now. Maybe she was just in shock, but he feared she wouldn’t make it back to Mengor.

  “Shen’al,” he called. “Amalla is badly hurt.”

  “We’re almost there,” the dragon insisted. “She can get better help from the castle medicine men than from us.”

  “We have to wrap up her legs before she bleeds out. Just stop for a few minutes.”

  Shen’al sighed and dove into the ashy Ganton. He laid Amalla on the ground, and she whimpered.

  “Hold this,” Doravan said, lowering the baby into Shen’al’s claw. He pulled off his shirt and realized he wasn’t sure where to start. His clothes weren’t enough to wrap her legs up entirely, and they looked like they would crumble apart if he touched them. The skin was weeping in hundreds of places, and her bones were visible. Her skin was more purple than her normal peach color.

  Doravan sucked in a breath and began wrapping her legs at the top going down. She cried out a few times, but mostly kept quiet. She clung to his arm, sometimes digging her nails in. When he finished, she nodded rapidly.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Doravan didn’t respond. He walked back over to Shen’al and picked up the now sleeping baby.

  “Let’s get her home,” he said.

  The dragon grabbed Amalla and Doravan again and lifted them into the sky. Nausea and anxiety forgotten, Doravan watched Amalla to ensure she didn’t die on the way home. He couldn’t do anything for her if she bled out, but he couldn’t take his gaze off of her.

  Then the baby began to cry again.

  Doravan bounced her, lightly and helplessly.

  “Shen’al! What am I supposed to–?!”

  They landed abruptly at the Mengor Castle gates. Shen’al gently lowered Doravan, Amalla, and the screaming girl to the ground.

  “Shen’al,” Amalla gasped. “Take the baby and find milk immediately. Goat, wet nurse, whatever you can find.” She whimpered and curled up in the fetal position.

  Shen’al took the baby from Doravan and vanished. Doravan grabbed Amalla and lifted her off the ground.

  “We have to get you to the doctor.”

  Amalla shook her head and gripped his arm so hard he thought it might pop off. “No. My room.”

  “Amalla, you might bleed out!”

  She tugged and spasmed. She glared right into his eyes. “My. Room.”

  Doravan prayed she had some kind of magical potion for her legs in there; he didn't know what else could possibly be better than a doctor. He rushed her into the castle and up the stairs, into her room. He went to lay her down on the bed when a growl startled him.

  A bright green dragon, bigger than Shen’al, crept out of the princess's closet and stared right at Doravan.