From the high stone rise Aiden looked back and saw them.
The demon cadre moved through the lower trees in a tight wedge. Armor glinted in the rare shafts of light that broke the canopy. At the center walked the commander—aura heavy enough that even at this distance the ordered power registered it as a pressure against the skin. Strong. Focused. Closing.
Ressa felt it too. She stood a half-step behind him, one hand resting near the hilt of the short blade she had taken from the last fight. "If we help the child and linger, they will have us."
Little Bite's ears were flat against her skull. Her tail lashed once, hard enough to slap the stone. "Mother is this way. She will know what to do with the horned ones."
Ressa looked at Aiden. The decision sat between them, clear and ugly. "We ask the dragon for help. It is the only move that does not end with you in chains."
