Page 195 of Cast in Conflict

No. Ummm, we’re coming out of Ravellon.

I can see that.

Can you let the people who might flame us to ashes know?

I’ll tell Terrano. He’s...surprisingly mobile in the air.

A blast of lightning brightened the sky; it came from the ground. Nightshade, she thought. She made no attempt to bespeak him. Nor did she ask Severn whether or not they’d emptied enough of the fief’s buildings before the outcaste had started his rain of fire.

Bellusdeo roared, and this time, Emmerian replied in kind.

Emmerian’s coming down, Severn said.

He can’t come into Ravellon!

Demonstrably he can. He hesitated and then said, Bellusdeo asked.

Is that what she just said?

According to Terrano, yes.

It didn’t sound like any variant of “ask” Kaylin was familiar with. To be fair, no spoken Dragon ever sounded like anything other than rage and fury to her ears.

What did she tell him?

To take care of the Aerians—and not to turn you to ash when you leave the barrier. In that order.

Is it me, or is Emmerian almost silver?

He’s silver.

She could see that now, because Emmerian began to descend.

Tell him not to do that, Bakkon said, voice urgent. It carried the undertone of both panic and exhaustion. Kaylin immediately passed the message to Severn and left it in his hands; hers were full.

Please, Bakkon said, stop feeling guilty. The request was yours. The decision was mine.

Since she hadn’t said a word of apology—well, okay, not more than a few—she was surprised. But surprised or no, she knit fibers of his body back together, alarmed at how they seemed to almost be separating—as if they were threads in a tapestry.

Emmerian didn’t land. Instead, he flew low, over them, his body a solid cloud; he breathed fire in front of Bakkon, and behind him, scorching what passed for stone until it screamed.

Stone screaming, buildings dodging, Bakkon leaping from unstable ground to unstable building over and over again beneath the shadow of a Dragon. The storm in the air above didn’t drop rain; in one or two cases, it dropped bodies. Aerian bodies, the unnatural gray of their wings seeping, once again, into the ground or the air from which it had come.

She could see—through Severn’s eyes, as hers were closed—some of the Aerians peel off in an attempt to land while their wings were burning.

And then, one last burst of costly speed, and Bakkon reached the barrier, slowing markedly at the last moment.

Get off, he told her. I am not certain that the barrier will allow me safe passage.

Then why did you come???

Because Ravellon would not have allowed you safe passage to reach it.

I am not getting off.

“Mandoran—get off. Go through the barrier.”

“What about you?”

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