Rain had turned to snow when Dresden got to the final rise. His clothes were not yet dry and he knew he would need to find a suitable place to hole up for the night where he could make a proper fire and prepare for the encounter with Baylin and the other Dragon.

“Lazarus is dead!” Dresden glared at Ardent when he spat out the statement.

He jerked forward one more time, his head craning, and this time he did wretch.

Baylin was saying something, but Dresden wasn’t paying attention. Instead he kept glancing around cautiously. Baylin had taken up residence in a well defensible location. There were high peaks, a bottle neck canyon leading farther into the mountains, and a vast clearing where eight Dragons could fit comfortably around the fiery blaze of whole trees.

It took three full days for Dresden to recover with the help of Ardent’s healing magic before he could walk and another four days before he could leave the yurt and move freely.

Ardent worked diligently in healing Dresden’s wings over the next several days. Dresden had a difficult time concealing his excitement over the news that Deirdre was still alive.

Dresden tried desperately to move his limbs. He fought against the paralyzation with no luck. They advanced on him, ripping at his wings, Dresden felt blood dripping down his shoulders, he was helpless against them now.

Dresden shut his eyes, all he could see was blinding light. Usually when you close your eyes, there is darkness. He felt like he was being pushed through an opening that was too small to fit him.