Linsha. One moment and I will have you free.

A bright glow suffused the small cat. Golden, shimmering light covered its body and hid it from view in a ball of dazzling power that rapidly expanded outward like a small nova into a brilliant haze that glimmered with sparks of orange, yellow, and white. Within the haze, a shape began to form with a long neck and nebulous wings of fire.

In that instant between light and shape, Linsha heard shouts and the unmistakable snap of a large crossbow. The dragon within the cloud of light screamed in pain and surprise.

Linsha’s voice rose to join the cry with her own scream of terror and denial. “No!”

The golden light vanished, leaving Linsha Winking in the dark. She could not see well, but she could hear the dragon thrashing on the ground, and she heard the unmistakable voice of the Akkad-Ur coming from somewhere close by. She twisted her head and spotted several black silhouettes on the roofline of the storehouse.

“Be still, dragon!” thundered the Tarmak general. “Be still or both you and the woman shall die.”

A sudden understanding glowed in Linsha’s mind like the light of the dragon’s power. They had been waiting for him. Damn! She berated herself. How could she not have seen it? She had said herself she thought the Tarmaks wanted the dragon to return. Having listened to the Akkad-Ur discuss Crucible and Varia, how could she not have guessed what they would do? She was not out here as punishment, she was hanging here as bait. Somehow the Tarmaks had known the dragon had returned, or perhaps they just calculated the number of days it would take for one small owl to fly to Sanction and one large dragon to fly back. Whatever they knew, they had put her in the cage in plain view and waited for Crucible to come. Would they have hung her out for the next seven days? Maybe so. And maybe she would have seen through this in another night or two. But it was Crucible’s bad luck that he came this night.

Gods above, what had they done to him? What sort of crossbow did they have that was large enough to wound a dragon?

She locked her fingers around the bars and shook the cage in a rage, angry at her own stupidity and terrified for his safety. He was still writhing in pain on the ground. She was able to see he was trying to reach something between his shoulder blades at the base of his neck. His eyes glowed with a fiery edge of scarlet, and his nostrils blew jets of steam in the cold night air. His talons scraped sparks from the stone nagging.

“I said be still, Crucible!” the Akkad-Ur shouted. “There are arrows aimed at your lady and at your neck. If you wish both of you to die, continue with this struggle.”

The sound of his name seemed to reach through his frantic struggles, for he stopped snapping at his back and crouched, his tail lashing across the yard. His large head lifted to spot his tormentors.

Inside the storehouse, the prisoners crowded up to the doors and stared horrified at the bronze. None of the Tarmak guards were visible.

Linsha froze in place and forced herself to be calm. She could not do anything to help Crucible.

“Do not try to sear us with your breath,” the Tarmak went on in a reasonable tone of voice. “You cannot reach all of us, and by the time you shot one beam, the lady knight would be dead.”

“Crucible, don’t listen,” Linsha pleaded. “Just go. Get away! Shapeshift, if you can, and go!”

“That would not be wise,” said the Akkad-Ur. “If he tries to shapeshift now, the barb in his back will kill him.”

Crucible chose to ignore him. Clamping his wings tight to his sides, he peered into Linsha’s cage.

“I smell blood,” he said. “Are you hurt?”

Linsha felt her heart contract. He was in pain and trapped by a dangerous enemy, yet his first question was for her. More than anything she wanted to reach through the bars to touch him, but she could barely move her arms from her body. Her eyes ached with unshed tears.

“Crucible,” she said. “Why did you come?”

An arrow ricocheted off the cage with a jarring clang. Crucible’s head snapped up, and a thunderous growl rumbled from his throat. He shrugged his shoulders and squirmed again with pain.

“What is this weapon you have used against me?” he roared at the Tarmaks. “What have you done?”

“It is very simple,” Linsha heard the Akkad-Ur shout from the roof. “We are planning a campaign to complete our conquest of the brass dragon’s realm. We no longer have our mercenaries or the blue dragon to help us. What we do have is you. Metallics, I am told, are much more reasonable than chromatics.”

Linsha felt her mouth fall open. She hadn’t expected anything like this.

I will not help you!” Crucible roared. “You slaughtered my friends. You killed a great dragon. You destroyed this city.”

“And I will kill this friend if you do not obey me.”

“I’ll take my chances, Crucible,” Linsha implored. “Get out of here!”

“If he leaves, he will die as well,” the Akkad-Ur warned.

Torches flared on the roof, illuminating the Akkad-Ur in his golden mask. Behind him stood three guards. One held a large crossbow, and the others carried a long, slim, black lance with a barbed tip and a heavy cowl for the hand. Linsha saw the lance and gasped. A tremor ran through her.

“You see we did retrieve the Abyssal Lance that you so helpfully left behind. However, we have changed it somewhat. In case you can’t tell from where you are, the lance is now about ten inches shorter.” He took the crossbow from his guard and held it high so both Crucible and Linsha could see it had been fired. “The bolt that is now lodged between your shoulders is a barbed dart crafted from this lance. Think about that.

You knew the evil spells that were imbued in this wood. It will kill whatever it penetrates. Fortunately for you, the dart is a smaller piece. It does not work as quickly as the larger lance. Unless I say-”

He spat a word in his own tongue and pointed to the dragon. Crucible screamed a frantic sound of agony and rage. Twisting and curving his sinuous neck, he tried desperately to snatch the bolt that burned into his neck. He scratched at it with a hind leg and stretched his forelegs around to reach it, but it was placed in such a way that nothing he tried could pull it free. His wings flapped loose and whipped the air around him in agitation. Dust rose up in a thick, choking cloud.

Linsha’s fingers tightened around the bars. A gut-wrenching terror exploded in her mind, dissolving her will and sucking away her strength. If the cage had not held her upright, she would have collapsed, groveling and shrieking on the ground. Although she had never felt Crucible use the powerful sense of awe and fear that dragons could exude, she had enough experience with dragonfear to recognize it.

Massive and paralyzing, the dragonfear rolled outward from the dragon and swept over those nearby. The prisoners in the cell fell to the ground, overcome by the fear, and the guards nearest the dragon dropped their weapons and clutched their heads. Upon the roof, only the Akkad-Ur remained on his feet. He shook in every limb, but he looked over the wall at the dragon and choked out an order.

Linsha heard his voice and forced herself to look up. What was the Akkad-Ur doing to Crucible? How could one small bolt cause such pain? Then out of the shadowed corners of the ruin, she saw tall figures moving toward the writhing bronze. Terror for him rose up within her and overcame the dragonfear. Her voice burst out in a frantic scream-“Crucible! Behind you!”

Mad with pain, he barely heard her. His reactions were dazed, confused, and too slow. He forced his body around to face this new danger. His tail caught one of the warriors and slammed the Tarmak into the storehouse wall, but three others reached his side.

Linsha saw torchlight flash on sword blades in the swirling dust, then Crucible roared again. His head dropped into the curtain of dust and his teeth snapped loudly in the dark, but the Tarmaks dashed away from him, and as they fled his wrath, the Akkad-Ur shouted another command over the uproar.