Broken bodies everywhere.

I step between them as carefully as I can. Nothing could prepare me for the stench of this place. The rotted, smoking horror. This walkway is also red, but no dye stained the stone crimson and the monarch at the other end may be the last thing I see.

The silence mocks me.

Flies hover in a cloud over the center of the large cavern, so I keep to the walls as I creep forward, sword in one hand, axe in the other. Sweat drips down my neck into my collar, running in rivulets along my spine. The heat turns the cave into a steam bath. The torn flesh and bones of cows, sheep, horses, and other creatures I refuse to identify, simmer. I've been tossed into a grisly stew.

A scraping sound echoes from somewhere ahead of me. I tense, ready to run. A blast of heat wafts over me, scorching away the sweat. Behind it, a mournful cry. Plaintive.

The pitch is too high to be the beast I seek. I've heard a dragon's roar. It's no small thing. More like the screaming thunder of a jet, or the explosion of lightning blasting the earth. Not the squalling cry I hear now. More likely one of the prey animals isn't quite dead yet. An uncomfortable thought, but better than some of the alternatives.

A shadow moves.

I dive behind an outcropping of rock as the pitiful cry comes again. This time the scraping sound is closer. Whatever it is, it's still moving. And it's moving my way.

Rather than expose myself, I find a foothold in the rock and try to lift myself high enough to see over the top. Steam and smoke make it difficult, but then a cool breeze manages to blow in from the opening behind me, and for just a moment the vapor clears.

I'm frozen for long moments as I take in the scene.

Then I carefully extract myself from my hiding place. The breeze comes again, pushing the haze farther back, and I step forward, following. Eyes the color of emeralds follow my every move. I bend to pick up a piece of white from the floor and my weapons clink against each other. The creature in front of me backs up, nearly tripping in haste. I study its body for signs of imminent attack, but muscles aren't coiled or poised for sudden movement. Shoulders droop. There's no fight here.

I put my blade into its sheath and my axe through my belt.

The white material is hard with a bumpy outer surface. The inner curve is softer. Spongy. Wet, mucous-like material clings in spots. I sniff before tossing it back on the floor.

Green eyes blink, head tilting to the side.

It's curious of me.

Still, I can't let down my guard. Even as small as he is, a dragon can do a lot of damage. If the heat I felt earlier is any indication, he's fully capable of roasting me.

But I don't think he will.

I walk closer to where he sits. My heart pounds, vibrating my entire body as I crouch down and run one hand over the enormous tail stretched on the floor beside him. Each scale is a mirror, reflecting everything around us. I understand, suddenly, how these creatures camouflage so easily despite their size.

Behind the curl of tail, the smaller creature sits, staring.

When I look up, his gaze flicks to the head of the massive beast laid out before him, and he lets out another of those mournful cries. His sorrow rips at my heart.

I am intimately familiar with grief. With loss.

He is alone.

Bereft.

Lost.

Like I was.

Like Sadie is.

God, how her heart must be breaking. First Rebecca, now me. She must think I've abandoned her just when she needed me most. She's only four. She can't understand why I'm not there to hold her and kiss away her tears. I need to finish this and get to her. It's the only hope I have left. The only thing I can give her that's worth a damn.

I'm trying, Sadie. I promise.

I look back at the pitiful creature in front of me, wondering how long ago he hatched. If the softness inside the shell is any indication, not long ago. Certainly not long enough to have caused yesterday's damage to Philippi's city. Which means the enormous creature at his feet is the mighty Agrihan—his mother.

I shake my head. There's no good outcome here. I'm unsure whether the hatchling will allow me to bring back the parts of his mother the King requires, but if I don't, I cannot claim the gold and satisfy my debt.

I will lose my only chance to get to Sadie.

I must do this. No matter how terrible a deed it is.

"I'm sorry, young one." My voice is coarse. My throat thick. To comfort one child, I must wound another.

Anger rises in my chest. This is foolish. My anguish is for a beast not even human. All of this is false! It's ridiculous I would suffer—that Sadie would suffer—for something not even real!

Emerald eyes regard me. They are heavy and filled with understanding. A loss of innocence that hits too close to home.

His grief is real enough.

His mother is gone.

He is alone.

The key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn't hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym.

How well I understand.

When you're a slayer, you don't have many friends.

I slide my sword free, wincing as the metal scrapes along the scabbard. I cannot return his gaze as I follow Agrihan's curved back toward an enormous head, where I must carve out a mother's eyes while her orphaned child looks on.