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“Yes… No! Humans are not the enemy. Plenty lived on Tariko.” Which meant there may be Tarikian born humans in the human town. “We need to work together to create a home.”

“Now is the time to seize a home, while everyone is in disarray.” Beard tapped his spear on the ground.

Pan bit back on the sigh and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn’t resist running his fingers through his hair and tugging on the end of his horn in frustration. Which only reminded him of the way Noah had held his horns last night. No one ever did that. They were too busy being grateful that he allowed them to touch him at all, but Noah had held on as if he had the power to control a god. In that moment he had, and that was not something Pan planned on admitting to anyone.

Beard had a point, even the humans didn’t know what was going on, but it didn’t feel right to launch an attack and carve out territory, creating further chaos and havoc and injury. He was sure that had Ares or Diana been having this conversation, they would have agreed to war. Epona would’ve ridden into battle with the centaurs and blessed their spears.

None of that was his scene.

And sure, there had been times where the other gods had teased him for his unwillingness to fight. While he longed for their counsel and company, fighting over ruins seemed pointless.

“You want to make fresh enemies in a world we know little about? You want to ask your fellow Tarikians to fight when they have lost their home and their loved ones? You want people to ignore their wounds and to attack those who may become friends?”

“That is my point. Theymaybecome friends. They may not. The longer we wait, the stronger they become.”

Pan shook his head. “I may only be acting lord of the city, but I will not ask traumatized people to find makeshift weapons to fight in a war that does not need to be fought.”

Beard spat on the ground. “You never had the heart for a fight.”

“Because there are other ways.” He stared ahead and considered his next words very carefully. Because he did not want to be the one starting a fight while discussing war. “You are allied with Beita…do not act rashly to change that.”

“You wield threats with nothing to back them up.”

“I worked with you in good faith, to secure the return of the dragon and your tents. I promised a healer to tend your wounded.”You were the ones who made threats.And if he’d had an iota of magic, he would have made them pay. As it was the small amount he gained last night, he’d quickly spent, with no idea if it had been enough to be successful.

The scent of charred wood and dragon shit filled his nose and lungs. It was almost enough to make him retch. Others did. They’d better not start vomiting or he may not be able to hold back, and he had little enough pride that he did not want to lose what was left. Or the breakfast he’d eaten what felt like half a day ago but was only a quarter-day.

“We are close now,” Beard announced, as if that wasn’t obvious. “I suggest you announce yourself, so she does not turn her fire on you.”

Hopefully, he’d finish this without making another deal with a dragon. He called out a greeting in Dragon announcing who he was and that the centaurs were allowing her to go free.

When she didn’t answer, he walked faster, afraid that she’d died overnight. He should have insisted on going to her last night, instead of waiting. What if she had given up?

Then she chirped a welcome.

Beard sped up, so Pan had no chance of reaching her first. The path hooked around and there she was, in the clearing. Her wing pierced by a tree and her front leg at an awkward angle. She couldn’t move to hunt or eat or drink.

This was a rather large and fetid pile of dragon shit. Literally and figuratively.

Pan turned around, sensing Noah but not seeing him. “Noah, call your people. The situation is rather more serious than we were led to believe.”

Noah must have heard him as he broke into the clearing at a run and skidded to a stop next to Pan with his eyes wide and a curse on his lips. “That’s not good.”

That was rather understating the problem. “Your people need to bring food and water for her.”

Noah nodded. “And a chainsaw.”

“A what-saw?”

“It’s a machine to cut through the tree. I’ll also update our location.”

Beard grinned. “I warned you. She was only good for a tent. She’ll never fly again.”

Pan glared at the centaur, and wondered how he would enjoy having a spear through his hand and one broken leg and then being abandoned to suffer in pain, consumed by hunger and thirst. If he’d had magic…

“Leaving her like that is cruel,” Noah muttered.

Pan grunted. “But killing her breaks the treaty with the city.” That treaty was the only reason the dragon was alive, and he couldn’t break it by feeding Beard to the dragon, no matter how tempting.