The wind whipped past Mia's face, and she turned it into Ford's shoulder.
Nearby, the horses whinnied in protest and fear.
She grimaced, knowing how afraid they must be, but it would be short-lived, comparatively speaking.
Aunt Annie had requested a ride home… at least, a ride to the edge of the grasslands. Beyond where they were likely to face any magical dangers.
Dangers that the Emperor agreed to keep from human lands, at least pending the completion of his treaty with King Harold.
Mia lay on her stomach on a dragon's back, tied in place. Anaisa had insisted that the dragons not carry the humans in their claws, but the wights had countered that the people would not be able to hold on well enough.
At least, that was the interpretation Anaisa gave of the monosyllabic answers provided to the humans.
Mia now began to understand why, as the creatures dove and swept through the dark tunnels.
