As the dirigible hurtled up the darkened pass, something glittering rose above the black lip of the mountains.
Stomach fluttering, Jascinda leaned forward against the gondola’s rail. The word dragon filled her mind.
Beside her, Captain Ulreo laughed. “Just moon rise, princess,” he said.
Jascinda flushed. Of course. She was just seeing the lights of the dwarvish cities blazing away on the nighttime surface of the moon.
The buzz of the ship’s engines reflected back from the valley sides setting her teeth on edge. How could the mercenary flier seem so calm when any moment the dragon would hear and know they were coming?