Chapter 34
“Were you eyeing their horses from the start, like a fox watching a henhouse?” Lilith rode a skeletal horse, bone hooves ticking like beads on stone, and glanced at the Black Dragon leading another beside her.
“Not really.” Nidhogg’s voice was cool, like shade under iron clouds. “Mid-fight I noticed the skeletal horses and the knights were counted as separate lives, so I dropped the riders and stole two mounts.”
At first the Black Dragon hadn’t cared for the bony steeds, like a hunter passing a dry well, but mid-battle she’d remembered the Little White Dragon’s injured legs and fetched a horse for her.
“But did you think this body of mine makes riding even worse?” Lilith pointed at her small calves, wrapped in dark-red flesh like clotted roses. Forcing her to ride with that felt like pushing a sapling in a storm.
“You can sit sidesaddle,” Nidhogg said, easy as wind over grass. “Turn sideways and your leg won’t get pressed.”
“You’re not wrong.” Lilith’s fist itched like thunder under skin; she ground her teeth. “But if I sit sideways, I’ll get bounced off when it runs, like a pea in a drum.”
She wasn’t joking. She’d never ridden, like a cat before water; maybe this body had, but her luck with carriages was mud and ruts, so horses wouldn’t be much kinder. This was a skeletal horse, ribs like a cage; not being thrown already counted as a blessing, let alone riding on. And this Black Dragon wanted the Little White Dragon to sit sideways; by her math, Lilith would be down in two minutes, like rain off a leaf.
“My bad. I missed that.” Nidhogg paused, a shadow folding into thought. The Little White Dragon did look like she might tumble, like dew off a blade. She caught Lilith’s hand and lifted her from her own saddle in one smooth pull, like drawing a ribbon. Then she set Lilith crosswise on her lap, and held her in her arms like a crescent moon. “Better?”
“Mm—” Heat rushed to Lilith’s face, pink as a peach blossom after rain. She muttered so soft it was mist. “How’s this different from you carrying me on foot?”
“The difference is we’re faster,” Nidhogg said, voice steady as iron. The Black Dragon was a strength build, a boulder more than a brook; walking with Lilith slowed her to a crawl, nothing like a four-legged mount eating the road like fire. “And if we meet enemies, I can shoot easier, and you can cast.”
“I can’t hit that far.” Lilith puffed her cheeks like warm buns. The skeletal horse jolted like a cart over stones; she nearly slid, like frost off a tile. She grabbed Nidhogg’s waist, then tucked herself in, a bird under a wing. “And I’m easy to fall off! You might as well piggyback me!”
“Pfft.” Nidhogg chuckled, laughter bright as a spark. She ruffled Lilith’s small head, soft as new leaves. “If you’re afraid of falling, hug me tight, or wrap the horse with your tentacles like vines on a post.”
“I’ll hug you.” Lilith weighed the options like scales and chose the warmer side. Her arms circled Nidhogg like a belt; the Little White Dragon didn’t feel like she was the one taking a loss.
“Don’t slip.” Nidhogg’s hands settled naturally, steady as anchors; she cupped the Little White Dragon’s perky butt, then drew Lilith closer, pressing her into a hearth-warm hold. Lilith went quiet, a cloud snagged on a peak. A prickle ran through her—something felt off.
Maybe she was the one being taken advantage of?
As Lilith sank into that thought, a dark-purple vortex bloomed beside her like ink in water. Abaddon and Litt peeked out, two curious faces like kittens at a doorway. The little Demon and the little shard scanned the world like wary swallows; once safe, they hopped out and landed light on an empty skeletal horse.
“Why are you out?” Lilith asked, surprise flaring like a candle in the wind.
“Litt said she wanted to see you, so I brought her,” Abaddon answered, calm as still water.
“That’s right, that’s right! I felt Mom was hurt, like a thread tugging my heart, and I kept wanting to come. But Sister Abaddon wouldn’t let me! Bad sister!” Litt pointed at the gray-white Demon girl, cheeks puffed like steamed buns. Lilith glanced at her daughter’s misty-eyed face and couldn’t scold; she soothed like warm tea. “She did it for you. It’s not safe here. Even Mom’s hurt, and you could get hurt too.”
“But I’m worried about Mom.” The little shard’s words trembled like a leaf in wind, eyes shining like wet glass, a mirror of Lilith’s own look. Beside them, Nidhogg nearly let a laugh slip like a bead from a string.
“!” Lilith shot Nidhogg a glare, sharp as a drawn blade. To avoid getting her ear twisted and soloed, the Black Dragon covered her mouth, gaze forward like a statue.
“I know you’re worried,” the Little White Dragon said, ignoring her wounds like snow ignored by spring. She pushed herself up and took Litt’s tiny hand, warm as a bird’s egg, her voice gentle but steady as a riverbank. “But if you get hurt, Mom will worry too, and she’ll be sad.”
“Uu…” Litt’s eyes brimmed again, tears wobbling like pearls.
“Let me ask you, Litt,” Lilith smiled, soft as moonlight through gauze. “Do you want to make Mom sad?”
“No.” Litt shook her head hard, like a bell.
“Then don’t make Mom worry, okay?” Lilith squeezed Litt’s fingers, a pulse like a heartbeat.
“Okay. If there’s danger, I’ll hide with Sister Abaddon.” Litt nodded, obedient as a sprout turning to sun. She rose and kissed Lilith’s cheek, a touch like a dragonfly on water, then curled back into Abaddon’s arms.
“Good girl.” Lilith touched the kissed spot, warmth spreading like dawn, and she smiled like a bright crescent.
Nidhogg couldn’t say why, but a maternal glow rose from the petite Little White Dragon, like light through thin clouds. The Black Dragon suddenly remembered the proud fullness hidden beneath Lilith’s clothes, a secret curve like twin moons. Come to think of it, the Little White Dragon really did look like she was born to be a mother.
