Page 141 of Haunted

I expect the horror brought by dragon flame. This does not ensure Sieffre’s downfall yet.

His men call out in excitement. They believe this will be an easy win.

Victory is never so easy.

The dragons rise from their attack and circle to the back of the battle, allowing the next formation to attack.

As the front lines surge together in hand-to-hand combat, the dragons turn on the rear, raking through the ranks, picking up soldiers, and dropping them from deadly heights. My side assumes massive casualties.

Gethen lifts his sword into the air and shouts. From the rear of the battle, his men throw tarps off the war machines—trebuchets and ballista—dozens of them. Gethen drops his arm, and a volley of boulders and bolts with deadly spearheads loose right into a formation of dragons diving on his men.

Cephias and Aneirin enter the fray. My inner eye is trained on Cephias, following his every move with the dragon stone around my neck. He’s a fair flyer, and Aneirin’s capable, even without their mental connection.

Their precious dragon formations are broken apart as objects careen at them. Riders do the best they can to deflect oncoming boulders and bolts.

I catch Cephias’s excitement through our dragon bond. Absolute chaos! He’s talking to Aneirin. I love it!

Cephias swerves to avoid being taken down when another dragon hurtles out of control toward him. I watch with amusement.

So much mayhem. I am enthralled. Deadly bolts slip between the scales of many dragons, dropping them to the ground. A few fall back, too injured to fight. Others are more adept and catch the bolts, throwing them down on the enemy, bowling a dozen men over at once.

With the air thick with weapons, it’s difficult to get to my war machines, but some dragons do. They either break them apart or torch them.

I try not to fret from my loss. I still have many of the machines left.

King Sieffre’s men lose ground as Gethen’s men fight their way up the hill in a ferocious, inhuman rage.

Yes. That’s right. Take control of the field.

As enemies fall, my men step over them as if they aren’t even there. Gethen brandishes his sword above his head, taking pleasure in cutting men down.

Cephias dives to the aid of an apricot-colored dragon.

This is an opportunity to show my power.

By the connection of the dragon stone, I make my presence known to Cephias as I enter his mind, a playground for pandemonium. With just a pinch along his visual pathways…

Cephias lurches. Aneirin! I can’t see! His panic is my own. Neifion’s final plight surfaces from memory. His panic as he was restrained. The pain of the blade to his heart.

I gasp and clutch my chest, and what should have been a simple pinch to Cephias’s visual context becomes a massive blade to my chest that takes my breath away.

I’m blind! Cephias screeches at Aneirin. His voice is too loud in my head. As Cephias tries to pull out of a dive, a fire courses through me from my heart-center. I slip in my control, and the fire burns through his visual pathways.

I can’t let go in time.

Cephias roars and loses consciousness.

I drop to my knees, panting. I’m dizzy and break my connection with Cephias altogether.

I’ve blinded him. Permanently. That wasn’t my intention. Neifion. You have to believe me. I would have never done that intentionally.

Bleary eyed, I watch Cephias plummet toward the earth before I fall on my side.

“Neifion,” I mumble. I could not save him then, and what I’ve done is an insult to his memory.

Aneirin dives off Cephias and lands before his dragon. Astonishment chokes me as Aneirin catches Cephias with a web of light and lowers him safely.

He’s damaged, but alive.

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