Celestia could barely contain her relief when Cocoon rounded the corner of a tunnel ahead.
"Do you have it?" she whispered, urgently. Celestia held out their prize with a genuine smile. Cocoon grinned back. "Excellent, let's—"
The walls and floor shook, tossing them painfully into the stone around them. The roars of a pair of dragons swallowed all other sound, shaking Celestia and Cocoon to their stomachs.
They hurried up the shaft.
Celestia had little trouble keeping up with Cocoon this time, either because of the adrenaline pumping through her veins or because neither of them were at all concerned with stealth this time around. The enraged vocalizations of the dragons below drowned out any sound they made in their shuffle to the surface, and, even if they hadn't, Celestia could hear nothing but a sustained ringing in both ears. She focused only on following Cocoon to the surface, her view of her guide only mildly obscured by the egg, which she levitated just ahead of her.
The moonlight fell gently as ever, but it was almost blinding to the emerging pair after their lengthy stay underground. For her part, Celestia didn't mind at all. She squinted up at her sister and smiled, a smile that only a sister could see past.
"We should head back," said Celestia at a refreshing volume. "They'll be searching for this." She set the egg at her hooves.
Cocoon shook her head. "No, we'll be too easy to spot in the air. We should get away from this mountain, but we should hoof it for now. The trees will give us cover until we're far enough out to risk flight."
Celestia agreed, and they set off down the mountainside, crisscrossing past streams, fallen trees, and impassable undergrowth. Celestia's size became an asset again, as she stepped over the rocks and logs in their way. She took the lead for a stretch, triumph in her step, until she realized that Cocoon was lagging behind. She looked back and waited for her to catch up.
Cocoon was panting with exertion. The light reflected off of one of the many holes in Cocoon's starved body, and Celestia realized how much effort it must have been for Cocoon to come this far. She wondered if perhaps their hike was less to evade the dragons and more to rest Cocoon's wings. She said nothing, but continued at a more leisurely pace.
"Thank you," said Celestia.
"Don't thank me yet," dismissed Cocoon. "We're not done until we get that back to Canterlot."
"I meant, thank you for saving my life. If you hadn't distracted Zhuyin at the right moment, I wouldn't be here."
Cocoon smirked. "Just be sure to mention that to your council when we get back."
"I will," said Celestia. The topic of their return should have been a happy one, but instead it loomed over her like an oncoming storm. She pushed it from her mind. "How did you get out without being seen? I never flew faster in my life, and I only just made it to the tunnel in time."
"Easy," said Cocoon. "There was another tunnel on the other side of the cave."
Celestia surprised herself by chuckling at the simplicity of Cocoon's explanation. Cocoon, charmed by the same sudden levity, joined her, and they smiled broadly at one another.
When she had calmed herself, Cocoon motioned to the egg. "Come on. Let's get that back to Canterlot." Her wings became a blur of motion, and she took off. Celestia followed with a graceful flap of feathers.
Under the mountain, Fucang unclenched his jaw. A colossal column of scales tumbled out and shattered the cave floor with its impact. Scarlet liquid dripped from Fucang's razor-sharp teeth and pooled on the the floor by the neck of the body at his feet. Fucang himself bled rivers from a tear in his wing and deep rends in his side. The fluid trickled down the incline of the irregular cavern floor, around stalagmites and past scattered gems.
The egg was lost, he knew; if it had not been destroyed by whatever creature had stolen it, it would likely never hatch without its parents. He consoled himself with the knowledge that he taken vengeance on its irresponsible mother and with the sight of her viscera beneath him. The fire had gone out of her belly; her eons of existence had finally come to an end.
The alliance had died with her, he knew. The other dragons in the upper chambers, if they did not already feel the ground lurch under the impact of the fight, hear the roars of the eldest dragons of the clans, or smell the blood soaking his scales, would soon resume the war. Fucang did not know who would replace Zhuyin as head of her clan—he imagined there would be a battle for that, too—but he knew that whatever wyrm took her place would have no interest in another attempt at reunification. Nor would he, for that matter.
A deep, draconian shout flooded the caves. Fucang replied with his own and began running up the tunnel to join his brethren. In such a small space, there were bound to be many more casualties, perhaps he among them. He wondered who, if anyone, would head the clans in the eons to come. He stomped upward, and all thoughts of the termite called Celestia left his mind.