The great winged horse galloped across the skies above the Emerald Mountains, a single rider on his back. Strapped to the animal's side was a woven basket in which a sleeping child lay. Lara glanced now and again at her daughter Zagiri to make certain she remained asleep. She was a beautiful little child with her father's dark gold hair; her golden eyelashes fanned out over her pale pink cheeks. She looks like him, Lara thought. The only bit of me in her are her green eyes.
"We're almost there," Dasras said as they left the mountains behind them. "I can see the fields of the Blathma below us, and just beyond and to my left are the meadows of the Aghy. I wonder if Roan has any pretty new mares."
Lara chuckled."You are as lusty as a Shadow Prince," she told him.
Dasras chortled. "Well, I was born and raised among them," he said drolly. Then he asked, "Is the princess still sleeping?"
"Aye," Lara responded. "She'll be delighted to see Dillon again ...
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