Page 32 of Ascension of the Pack

We hauled ass and it didn’t take long for us to reach the car park. The dwarves burst into cheers at the sight of us. ‘That’s an ego-boost,’ Greg quipped, making me laugh.

‘I don’t think they’re cheering your cock – though they should. Itismagnificent.’

He shot me a cheeky grin and triumph lit his eyes. We had the orb, we had the hammer, we had Daniella; on paper, the expedition had been a huge success.

‘We lost Xander,’ I choked out.

He shot me a sympathetic glance. ‘Ben said. I’m sorry, Peaches.’

I was glad he didn’t spout shit about the inevitability of losing soldiers, or that casualties were a necessity of war. He was just there for me, like always. ‘I’m going to fall apart later,’ I warned him.

‘I’ll be there when you do,’ he promised.

Osian was doing fist pumps in the air. He caught my eye and grinned widely. ‘Iknewyou could do it.’

‘I’m glad one of us did,’ I said wryly. I dug into my bag and withdrew the hammer of Arwen. I took a moment to examine it: it was a fine example of metalwork, but I couldn’t tell what – if any – magic it held. Nonetheless, a deal was a deal.

I held it out to Osian. He took it reverently and his eyes filled with tears. As he held it aloft, the dwarves started cheering again. For such small men, they made ashit tonne of noise.

‘And the dragon?’ Osian demanded.

‘She’s dead.’

A broad grin spread across his face. ‘We can claim back the territory,’ he breathed. He raised his voice, ‘WE CAN CLAIM BACK THE TERRITORY! THE DRAGON IS DEAD!’ The dwarves erupted into even louder cheers. Jesus, they were anything but discreet.

Osian turned back to me. ‘Thanks to Queen Lucy!

‘Queen Lucy!’ the dwarves cheered. ‘All hail Queen Lucy!’

I smiled as they chanted my name but I was wincing inside. If the brethren were wondering who had killed Geneve, I really didn’t want the dwarves telling them. ‘Thanks,’ I waved awkwardly. ‘But we’d better make tracks – we need to get our companion to a healer.’ We probably didn’t, but it gave us an excuse for a speedy extraction.

‘We will sing stories of your greatness,’ Osian said. ‘We will omit your gawky height and ugliness,’ he said in a stage whisper and winked.

‘Uh, thanks.’

Greg put Tarkers in the boot – the safest surface to transport the large canine – then pulled on a pair of black joggers from our go bag. Debbie and Wakado were alreadyin a car with Ben and Daniella. When they saw us preparing to leave, they fired up their motor and started to move off.

Greg put an arm around my shoulders as he walked me to the passenger-seat door. ‘I love your gawky height and ugliness,’ he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I gave him a playful shove and climbed into the car while he went round to the driver’s seat. The engine caught and we headed out past the beaming dwarves.

Our journey home was silent; I didn’t have any words right then and Greg knew it. In the silence it was easy to hear when Tarkers started to stir; he was already healing from the smoke inhalation.

‘Hey,’ he said eventually from the boot when he’d shifted to his human form. ‘What happened? The last thing I remember is the tunnel.’

‘You passed out,’ I explained.

‘So how did I get here?’

‘She dragged you out,’ Greg told him.

‘With your help!’ I protested. ‘It was a team effort.’

‘I helped for the last few feet,’ he disagreed. ‘You saved him, not me.’

Tarkers met my eyes in the rear-view mirror. ‘Thank you, Lucy.’ His voice was earnest and for once lacked its usualhumour.

I smiled. It was the first time he’d called me by name rather than an irreverent ‘Your Maj’. ‘You’re welcome, Tarkers.’

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