Underlord (Cradle, #6)

by Will Wight

When Lindon spoke again, his voice was thick. “Where will you go?” “There are many places that could use a dragon.” Lindon swept at his eyes, drawing pure madra, trying to keep his emotions under control. Orthos extended his head, resting his forehead against Lindon’s. “A dragon is not ashamed of tears,” Orthos said. And Lindon lost control. He threw his arms around Orthos’ neck and wept with Little Blue, as Dross drifted silently overhead. After a while, a familiar feeling in his spirit drew his attention to the side. Yerin stood there, looking horrified, six Goldsign arms gleaming in the dim light. She was out of breath, her tattered robes in disarray, and dead leaves in her hair. “Bleed me, but it looks like you’re trying to sneak off without me,” she said, and her voice quivered. Orthos shook his head. “I would not dare.” Lindon released the turtle’s neck only for Yerin to replace him an instant later. She didn’t cry, she just shook, and he murmured something to her that Lindon couldn’t hear.