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“Yet he is helping ours.” She tossed her head in disbelief, which wasn’t a good sign.

“Perhaps because he is drawn to all things magic.”

She nodded, the golden beads in her hair gleaming in the firelight. There were at least six. “Tell him the dragon is alive but wounded and that we plan to use her for a tent. If you were to take her, you would owe me a dragon skin tent. How many dragons survived? Perhaps he can find the bodies of the dead so we may claim the skin.”

Pan frowned, remembering her claim that the dragon may not survive long. “How injured is the dragon?”

“From what we can tell, her wing and leg are broken.”

The dragon was fucked, and the queen knew it. She didn’t need to risk her warriors when they could wait. “The male will not be happy.”

“If the city’s dragon attacks our camp, we will have no choice but to retaliate, and all treaties will be broken.”

Well, that was more tangled than an arachine’s web.

She flicked her fingers at him. “Tell your witch.”

Pan turned to Noah, rapidly trying to work out what their next step should be. “This is a delicate negotiation. We do not want to start a war between the city and the centaurs and the dragons.” It wouldn’t be the first war he’d started both on accident and purpose, but those situations had been entirely different.

The queen ordered Beard, who was probably her consort, given the freedom with which he moved around her tent and the authority he held in camp, to make her tea.

Noah’s eyebrows lifted.

“Don’t say anything yet. Let me rush through the rest. The dragon is injured. Broken wing and leg, which means she can’t move on her own. They are waiting for her to die, to use her hide as a tent. It’s what they make their tents with. Dragons and centaurs do not get on. She wants you to find the bodies of dragons that didn’t survive the collapse. Then we can take our dragon. Which doesn’t help us as she’s dying, and then the male will attack the centaurs and start a war. And you’ve seen enough centaurs to realize that’s a bad idea.”

Noah licked his lower lip, which was a tease, as he’d taste like lightning and honey and all the best bits of magic. “I don’t know if I can find dragon corpses. Also eww. But how big does she want the tent? Because we can get her tents. Liam has a two-person tent in his backpack. It’s not fancy, and it is tiny, but there are some big tents out there. Hell, I’ll raid the camping store for them, and they can have all the tents and stoves and shit they want.”

“Slow down because while I speak English, the way you speak it is different from how I last spoke it. I understand the gist of what you are saying, but sometimes the meaning is fuzzy. You have a tent shop?”

“Yes. And the dragon needs a vet…an animal doctor. And we can figure out a way to move her. We have cranes and massive trucks.” Noah paused for a moment, his eyebrows drawing together. “And given that dragons can fly, they can’t be that heavy.”

“Is a crane not a bird?”

Noah exhaled. “Yes, but it’s also a machine for lifting big, heavy things. And a truck is a really, really, big car used for transporting things.”

Pan nodded, understanding how that might work. It was, without a doubt, better than starting a war out of sheer incompetence.

The queen sipped her tea. “Your witch understands?”

“The witch has informed me that his friend has a tent in his bag. It is a small tent intended for two humans. But he will show it to you because they come in many sizes. He said it is far superior to dragon skin.”

The queen and Beard laughed.

“That doesn’t seem good,” Noah murmured.

“I want to see this tent,” Beard said. “He will set it up so we may all enjoy a laugh. Nothing is better than dragon skin.”

“You may see for yourselves.” He turned to Noah and smiled as if everything was fine. “Your tent is better than dragon skin?”

Noah gave him a stiff smile. “How am I supposed to know? I’d never seen a dragon until today. Oh my god, did you just tell her that?”

Pan held his gaze, lips pressed together, not sure if he was Noah’s god, but that was a question for later. “If she doesn’t like the tent, you are going to be spending the rest of your life as her pet witch, looking for dead dragons.”

“It’s a base model tent, nothing flash. If I’d known we needed a fancy tent, I’d have borrowed my uncle’s.”

“You need to sell it to them.” He turned back to the queen. “Should you like our offer of tents, we will need to bring a healer to assist the dragon and some…” How did he translate cranes and trucks into Tarikian? “Oversized human wagons to transport her.”

“A healer without magic cannot fix broken legs.” The queen sneered.