“Maybe that’s a lesson these people need to learn.” Jyn shoved past a girl who was holding a dirty rag doll up for trade and motioned Kol toward the tavern.
“They’re desperate,” Kol said quietly. “They’re just doing what they can to survive. We can’t hurt them for that. Besides, if we attack Ravenspire citizens in our dragon form within Ravenspire borders, we violate the treaty my father signed with Irina years ago, and we’d lose our opportunity to have any upper hand in the negotiations.”
They reached the wooden sidewalk that ran in front of the tavern, and Kol immediately moved toward the door.
“If we go inside, we’ll be trapped,” Jyn said.
“I think there’s a way out.” And, skies above, please let him be right about the girl and her intentions. If he led his friends into a trap, they’d have no choice but to shift.
Behind them, the villagers shouted and begged, but the pleading had disappeared from their tone, and anger had taken its place.
Kol, Jyn, and Trugg raced into the tavern seconds before the mob of furious villagers began shoving through the doorway, their eyes wild as they screamed for the Eldrians’ cloaks, boots, and coin.
“This way!” The girl waited by an open door in the far wall that led to an alley. “Hurry.”
In the alley beyond her, a man with dark skin and graying hair stood with his hand on the hilt of the sword strapped to his waist while the boy who’d followed the girl into the tavern was looking both ways. “It’s still clear. Let’s go,” he said.
The mob behind the Eldrians surged forward, and a man with sunken cheeks and a patched shirt that hung from his frail shoulders launched himself at Kol, his bony fingers grabbing at the small leather satchel tied to Kol’s belt. Two more men leaped forward and snatched at Kol’s cloak.
“Get off him!” Trugg roared and slammed into the men, sending all three of them flying into the closest wall.
More villagers—starving and desperate to get their hands on anything of value—poured into the room and surrounded Jyn while Trugg shoved his way to stand in front of Kol.
Kol’s chest burned with dragon’s fire, and pain rippled over his muscles as his body fought to shift. He drew a deep breath, tasting smoke at the back of his throat, and focused on keeping his human form.
Jyn’s laugh raised the hair on Kol’s neck. “You picked the wrong girl to mess with today, humans.” Her fingernails lengthened into talons, and a shudder rippled across her skin as it began hardening into scales.
“Who wants a piece of this?” Trugg shouted, smoke pouring from his nose as the crowd pressed in on all sides. Some of them raised crude weapons—planks of wood, butcher knives, and hand-carved spears—and waved them at the Eldrians.
“No!” Kol shouted, panic slicing into him. “Don’t shift. I forbid it.”
Over the heads of the mob, he spied the girl in the dress. Her dark eyes met his, and then she whistled sharply.
Something sharp jabbed Kol in the back, and he stumbled forward. The crowd surged against him, and its weight shoved him to his knees on the dusty floor. Smoke began pouring from his nostrils, and his dragon raged.
Then a piercing shriek split the air, and an enormous white gyrfalcon swept into the room and slammed into the people surrounding Trugg and Jyn. The bird circled, raked the mob with its talons, and then screamed a battle cry.
“Get up. Up!” A small gloved hand wrapped around Kol’s arm and hauled him to his feet. Before he could take a single step, the girl locked her arm around the back of his neck, leaped against his chest, and slammed both of her feet into a group of villagers, sending them sprawling. Falling back against him, she whirled around and pulled his shoulders toward her while another plank whistled through the air where his head had been.
Skies above, she knew what she was doing in a fight. He supposed he should be embarrassed—the king of the Draconi needing rescue from a human wasn’t exactly the kind of story the bards would turn into song—but he was too grateful for her help to bother.
Trugg and Jyn, their attackers momentarily driven back by the gyrfalcon, hurried toward him. The mob quickly rallied in their wake and came after the Eldrians with renewed fury.
“Follow me.” Without waiting for a response, the girl looked at the gyrfalcon. As if obeying some unspoken command, the bird shrieked and flew toward the door. The girl hiked up her skirt and ran forward, the Eldrians on her heels.
They burst out of the tavern and into an alley covered in sodden leaves and clumps of almost-melted snow, the crowd of villagers right behind them.
“Gabril, get Risa and anyone else who will be reasonable and see if they can talk sense into their neighbors. Promise them we’ll rob the next treasury wagon and give food to everyone.” The girl turned from the black man with the sword and looked at the boy who’d entered the tavern with her.
“Leo, find a clear path out of the village,” the girl said. The boy disappeared around the corner, and then reappeared on the roof of a building close to the street.