The snow under Lindarion's boot started to sizzle. He stepped sideways before his foot dissolved.
Lira didn't look away from the ward. "We could camp until nightfall. Let the storm cover our approach."
"And then what?" Lindarion asked. "Stroll in and pray the dragon doesn't sneeze on a gatepost?"
Ren shrugged. "You're the magical prodigy. Make him invisible."
"I'm also eleven."
"Child labor. Tragic."
He looked at Ashwing again.
The dragon blinked.
Flopped.
Curled tighter against his leg like he belonged there.
And okay, maybe he did. But belonging didn't fix magical border defenses keyed to vaporize anything draconic.
Lindarion exhaled slowly. "We need a distraction."
"I'm not setting anything on fire," Meren said quickly.
"No one asked you to."
"Yet."
Lira stood and brushed snow off her gloves. "I'll scout the edge. Check for weak points in the barrier."
Ardan finally joined them on the ridge. Silent. Tall. Already evaluating threats like it was his full-time job.
