return right along with her annoyance, Dagmar stepped back and raised her foot, slamming it down on the tip.
“Ow! Evil barbarian viper!” He rose on his hind legs, his front claws grasping his tail. “You are aware this is attached to me?”
“Yes. That’s how I knew it was taking liberties!”
Gwenvael put the tip in his mouth, sucking it as she might suck on her finger after slamming it in a door. They scowled at each other, neither speaking. Then his gaze drifted and he said, “I know that city.”
Dagmar looked out over the ridge, exhaled. “The great city of Spikenhammer. I’ve always wanted to come here. They have the most amazing library that you’ll find anywhere in the Northlands.”
“Spikenhammer,” he sneered. “Could that name be more obvious?” The dragon abruptly dropped his tail and frowned. “Wait. I don’t understand. I thought we were going to a monastery.”
“Why would I go to a monastery?” She pointed at the big city she’d always heard about but had never been to. “We’re going there.”
“But you told your father—”
“I lied. He never would have let me come here, with or without him.” She headed down the ridge, eager to reach the city. “We have a bit of walking, so you’d best hurry.”
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