Page 193 of Cast in Conflict

The Dragon outcaste had arrived.

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The cone of flame, anchored as it was by the very wide jaws of an enormous black dragon, hit the ground. Kaylin shifted her grip on Bakkon, placing a hand, once again, on Mandoran as the spider clambered up the side of a building. Purple fire with a heart of white turned the ground into a molten mess; out of the steam that arose, she could once again see what she had called fog.

It was difficult to reorient herself, but the presence of a Dragon made it easier: he took up a third of the skyscape from any vantage. They were close to the border. They had to be close; she could see street, and could see buildings that looked normal—if run-down—which implied a border was close.

That way! she shouted at Bakkon. He leaped down the street, and then up the side of a building and over a roof as the outcaste inhaled. Kaylin was willing to bet money that she could hear the sound of his drawn breath from where she sat, wind whistling in perpetual loose strands of hair.

Some of that hair was singed; the blast was close, the Dragon closer. She could feel the fire strike Bakkon’s back legs, which had been closer to the splash. She had some idea of what healthy meant for a Wevaran now, because it felt like she’d been in physical contact with one for hours. She immediately started to heal the damage the fire had caused.

To no one’s surprise, it was far easier thought than done; the purple fire was not like the regular kind, and the damage it caused seemed more persistent, as if the flame itself were like a worm or invasive insect that sought to spread beneath the flesh it had hit.

Thank you. Please continue to do that. You are certain about our direction?

Yes—but so’s the Dragon.

Dragon? Is that what you call it?

I call it a lot of things, but Dragon will do. Outcaste Dragon, she added, in case it mattered. To Kaylin at this very moment, it didn’t. The shadow of the outcaste loomed above them, more dangerous than the Shadow that the fiery breath had dislodged beneath.

Bakkon was attempting to reach the barrier of the border, but it was clear what his destination was, and it made targeting the Wevaran far simpler. The fire could strike in front of the next location, the next leap. Bakkon’s version of a straight line wasn’t the usual version, but it didn’t matter. If they wanted to survive to get out, no straight lines could be run.

Kaylin shifted her hold on Mandoran—more to keep herself on the Wevaran’s back than make sure the Barrani didn’t fall—trying to find the cadence of the syllables she’d been projecting; she lost them instantly as fire once again clipped Bakkon.

She fell silent as she healed the damage the fire was doing; concentrated as she uprooted tendrils of flame, ejecting them. Bakkon said nothing; she wasn’t certain he was even aware of the fire, he was moving so quickly.

Fire once again singed strands of Kaylin’s hair as it hit Bakkon; for the first time, flames licked up the back end of his body. All thought of True Words fled. She could heal the damage done, but it was work to remove the threads of flame that still bound themselves to Bakkon’s flesh.

She was aware of the moment that the Shadows surged again—tentacles burst from the sides of buildings, from the roofs, all places that Bakkon momentarily touched as he landed and leaped. He spit webbing, but none of that webbing formed the shield that it had formed in the library.

No, Chosen. I cannot weave that and run—and here, it is not enough defense.

She wished, briefly, that she hadn’t all but demanded that he come with them.

If I had not, you would be dead or lost. And the loss of the Chosen to the fallen is far more dangerous than the loss of one Wevaran.

Why?

Hush.

Fire. She could hear the roar of the outcaste, and she could see him clearly now, his great wingspan and the aerial advantage becoming more and more clear.

I’m sorry, she told the Wevaran. I don’t think we’re going to make it.

Continue with what you are doing. You might tell the boy to leap; I believe he has ways of escaping that are not available to you.

You can’t do the weird portal thing?

Not from here, no. I can create a portal, but it will not take us anywhere you wish to go. She felt a wave of pain pass through him, and caught it, hoping that the body’s sense of “right” or “healthy” conformed in some way to the healing she was attempting to do on the fly.

“Mandoran—Bakkon wants you to jump off. He thinks you can escape on your own.”

Mandoran shook his head. “One, I might accidentally dislodge you. Two, Teela would kill me.”

“She’s not here.”

“Look right,” he shouted back.

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