19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The only problem with tunnels and fire is they draw smoke like a chimney. The T-shirt around my nose and mouth helped a little but it wasn't as good as a proper mask and the caustic smoke was stinging my eyes.

Shift, Esme ordered tightly. She was right. On two legs we were just lumbering around. Hopefully, we could run through the darkness far faster on four feet.

Keep the hammer and orb safe when I shift, I ordered Terrance.

Of course. I'm on it, Your Majesty, he responded firmly.

‘When I've shifted, grasp my tail with your mouth,' I said to Tarkers. ‘At least then we'll stay together.' And I would know if he was overcome by the smoke.

As I shifted, the acrid stench became even worse and Esme and I coughed violently. Damn our sensitive nose. We could hardly see a thing and we stumbled forward, relying on Esme's memory of the tunnel from our previous trip.

Tarkers' teeth were gentle on our tail. He kept pace with us as we jogged through the billowing smoke, but this was fast becoming a nightmare. We were struggling to breathe. At my urging, Esme dropped to her tummy and started crawling. The air was a little clearer near the ground but not by much, and now our progress had slowed even further.

It felt like we'd been inching forward forever when abruptly the feel of Tarkers' mouth on our tail disappeared. He'd let go. We turned back and saw him lying on the ground, passed out.

We can't leave him, I said.

No, Esme agreed. But we might die with him.

So be it.

So be it.

We settled our maw on the scruff of Tarkers' neck and started to painstakingly drag him out of the tunnel. We were strong but he was heavy. I had no idea how close to the exit we were, but it felt like the smoke was thinning so surely fresh air must be around the corner?

I heard a bark ahead and we recognised the voice. It was Red! We yipped back a response and in moments he was next to us. He nuzzled us for the briefest moment and then took some of Tarkers' weight. Between the two of us we made much faster progress and in less than a minute we'd pulled him out of the tunnel and into the fresh moonlit air.

I shifted out of four-legged form just for the pleasure of hauling air into my human lungs. Greg shifted too but, unlike me, he didn't retain his clothes. Silver linings.

‘Nice fashion accessory,' he teased, gesturing at my makeshift mask, but his voice was tight and his eyes were anxious. He'd been worrying about me. Flushing, I pulled the ripped-up T-shirt from my mouth.

Greg was butt naked, but he showed zero self-consciousness as he lifted Tarkers' into his arms. ‘I sent the others on to the car park,' he said. ‘We need to get out of the area, pronto. Your smoke signals drew the brethren back here.'

I hadn't thought of that possibility. I picked up the pace, still coughing occasionally but grateful for my shifter healing, which had been kick-started when we were on four. It felt like I couldn't quite catch my breath and every shallow inhalation made me want to cough and splutter, but soon my lungs would be healed and this horrible tightness around my chest would fade .

We hauled ass and it didn't take long for us to reach the car park. The dwarves burst into cheers at the sight of us. ‘That's an ego-boost,' Greg quipped, making me laugh.

‘I don't think they're cheering your cock – though they should. It is magnificent.'

He shot me a cheeky grin and triumph lit his eyes. We had the orb, we had the hammer, we had Daniella; on paper, the expedition had been a huge success.

‘We lost Xander,' I choked out.

He shot me a sympathetic glance. ‘Ben said. I'm sorry, Peaches.'

I was glad he didn't spout shit about the inevitability of losing soldiers, or that casualties were a necessity of war. He was just there for me, like always. ‘I'm going to fall apart later,' I warned him.

‘I'll be there when you do,' he promised.

Osian was doing fist pumps in the air. He caught my eye and grinned widely. ‘I knew you could do it.'

‘I'm glad one of us did,' I said wryly. I dug into my bag and withdrew the hammer of Arwen. I took a moment to examine it: it was a fine example of metalwork, but I couldn't tell what – if any – magic it held. Nonetheless, a deal was a deal.

I held it out to Osian. He took it reverently and his eyes filled with tears. As he held it aloft, the dwarves started cheering again. For such small men, they made a shit tonne of noise.

‘And the dragon?' Osian demanded.

‘She's dead.'

A broad grin spread across his face. ‘We can claim back the territory,' he breathed. He raised his voice, ‘WE CAN CLAIM BACK THE TERRITORY! THE DRAGON IS DEAD!' The dwarves erupted into even louder cheers. Jesus, they were anything but discreet.

Osian turned back to me. ‘Thanks to Queen Lucy!

‘Queen Lucy!' the dwarves cheered. ‘All hail Queen Lucy!'

I smiled as they chanted my name but I was wincing inside. If the brethren were wondering who had killed Geneve, I really didn't want the dwarves telling them. ‘Thanks,' I waved awkwardly. ‘But we'd better make tracks – we need to get our companion to a healer.' We probably didn't, but it gave us an excuse for a speedy extraction.

‘We will sing stories of your greatness,' Osian said. ‘We will omit your gawky height and ugliness,' he said in a stage whisper and winked.

‘Uh, thanks.'

Greg put Tarkers in the boot – the safest surface to transport the large canine – then pulled on a pair of black joggers from our go bag. Debbie and Wakado were already in a car with Ben and Daniella. When they saw us preparing to leave, they fired up their motor and started to move off.

Greg put an arm around my shoulders as he walked me to the passenger-seat door. ‘I love your gawky height and ugliness,' he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I gave him a playful shove and climbed into the car while he went round to the driver's seat. The engine caught and we headed out past the beaming dwarves.

Our journey home was silent; I didn't have any words right then and Greg knew it. In the silence it was easy to hear when Tarkers started to stir; he was already healing from the smoke inhalation.

‘Hey,' he said eventually from the boot when he'd shifted to his human form. ‘What happened? The last thing I remember is the tunnel.'

‘You passed out,' I explained.

‘So how did I get here?'

‘She dragged you out,' Greg told him.

‘With your help!' I protested. ‘It was a team effort.'

‘I helped for the last few feet,' he disagreed. ‘You saved him, not me.'

Tarkers met my eyes in the rear-view mirror. ‘Thank you, Lucy.' His voice was earnest and for once lacked its usual humour.

I smiled. It was the first time he'd called me by name rather than an irreverent ‘Your Maj'. ‘You're welcome, Tarkers.'

Then my smile faded. I'd managed to save him but not Xander. I closed my eyes and saw again the moment of the young boy's death. I swallowed hard and looked out of the window. Greg reached over and rested a hand on my thigh in silent support.

I'd never needed it more.