Chapter 5Prince and dragon had already engaged, jets of flame splashing bright against Tristan’s shield as I crossed the dooryard at a dead run. Tristan would surely be charmed against fire, he was not an imbecile. I had proof of it when the next blast dodged his shield, and still he did not flinch.
His horse, too, was unimpressed—both charmed and trained to know it, unlike the last one whose mount had panicked in the anticipation of pain.
Tristan had been a strong and intelligent fighter, even in childhood. Today, this meant he could keep himself alive long enough for me to call Braith off of him.
Somehow.
Braith, I saw quickly, was not like his father, reluctant in the discharge of his dutiful murders, nor was he concerned with sparing the horse. Nor was Tristan an i***t in armor as
