The dragon's anger flared into a white hot flame, and she thought to fly to Thangorodrim, itself, and snatch the foul monster in his lair and slay him or be slain.
It was only the small request at the end of Pio's last instructions to her that stayed her unfurled wings.
'You must stay safe, Old One. You are the companion's only hope for escape from what will be a hellish night. They must get back to the ship, and you must stay there with them. They will need your aid and most of all, your clear thinking. Will you give me your word on this?'
The dragon had glossed over the request without thinking and made her vow, and now it held her.
'Mithadan!' she rumbled, deep from within, rousing him from his grim trance. 'Pick up Bird and get the both of you onto my back. We are going to the ship, now!'
The man picked up the small, limp form of the woman and placed her on the dragon, close against him - his cloak covering both of them against the soon to be cold. He held her securely, her head lolling against the junction of his arm and shoulder.
Angara lifted off, and turned southwestward, making a direct line for the Lonely Star, no concern now for who might see them. She shut all thoughts from her mind, and flew with great speed.
Grief could come later. For now there was only the beating of her great wings, and the rush of air as she cleaved through it.
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Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
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