Free Dragon Bones And Tombstones (Book 2) by Craig Halloran

tunnels, some lit, some not, carved from stone. From room to room, corridor to corridor, there were sparse furnishings, few decorations, and here and there, runes were written on the walls. Nothing extraordinary. It seemed many races had used this place as a hideout over time, though. We moved in the shadows, darting from alcove to alcove avoiding the light and the sounds of anything coming. Other than the two guards we’d encountered, there was nothing. No chatter, no shuffling of feet, not even the crick of a cricket or the scurry of a rodent.
    I stopped a moment and gathered my thoughts. The goblins must have felt safe in their hideout, and maybe only a couple of guards were needed to make the rounds. Still, it was weird. It wasn’t usually this easy sneaking into any place, and even though we had put some thought into it and come through the utmost back door, something was eating at me.
    Brenwar jostled me with his elbow and sniffed the air.
    “Smell that,” he said.
    Ah, indeed I did. It was goblin brew. The making of swill. The mix of sweat. We were getting close to the goblins, but where was the dragon? “Follow me.”
    Now, when it comes to saving dragons, there is only one thing you need to concern yourself with: getting them free of the net, shackles or cage they're in. If you pull that off, any dragon is smart enough and fast enough to do the rest on his or her own. In a flash, they’ll be gone, which probably explains why they never thanked me or stuck around to help. Which always bothered me. After all, I was putting my life on the line, and I had the scars to show for it.
    “TUMBA—TUMBA—TUMBA—TUMBA … ”
    It seemed the goblins were singing, or celebrating, perhaps. I’m guessing that dragon, a rare Blue Razor, would be very valuable. But they weren't going to collect a single coin. I would see to that. I swore it!
    We squatted down behind a balcony that overlooked a great hall. Peeking over the ledge, I could see boiling vats of goblin gruel and swill bubbling on beds of red hot coals. There was a throne at the end of the hall, where a massive humanoid sat, covered from head to toe in deep purple robes. The goblins ate, drank, sang and wrestled with one another… at least thirty of them that I could see. It was a celebration.  
    “That’s a lot of goblins,” I said.
    “Aye.”
    I felt a knife in my heart when I noticed the dragon curled up inside a heavy iron cage. A girl, at that. My keen eyes picked up the lighter belly and long dark eyelashes. That made me sad and mad at the same time.
    “Let’s move,” I said, unfolding my bow, Akron. Its workings snapped to, the bowstring coiling around the wood and into place. I was ready. I was ready to take them all on.
    Brenwar grabbed my elbow and pulled me back. I jerked away.
    “Easy, Dragon. Give them more time to celebrate. They’ll by drunk soon enough. Easier to strike them.”
    Well, soon enough wouldn’t be soon enough for me, but I conceded.
    “And what happens when the patrol doesn't return?”
    “Well, let’s hope they don’t remember.”
    I kept my eyes on the robed figure on the simple stone throne. Mysterious and powerful he or she seemed, yet unmoving. The figure felt evil, though. I felt compelled to launch a magic arrow into that hooded skull. Take down the leader and they all fall down. Darn that need not to kill! I resisted, slipped my arrow back in my quiver, and against all my compulsions, I waited.

 
    CHAPTER 13
     
     
    Dragons. Caged. Quiet. Unhappy. Finnius had never seen so many of them before. The door he'd been shoved through, the one he swore he’d taken before, had led him elsewhere. Where had Selene taken him? He dabbed his handkerchief on his head. Mercy! It’s hot in here. He tugged and rapidly jerked at the neck of his sweat-soaked robes. 
    “What do you think?” Selene said, reaching out and stroking the whiskers of a cat-faced dragon.
    Finnius stayed back.
    It was as big as a horse, feline in