Page 193 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

I share a worried look with Tyree. “So then, how are we going to get out of Udrel?”

Destry holds up a wavering finger. “I have an idea, but we must go now.”

Fates, we are to be led to safety by a drunk. “To where?”

Her expression turns somber. “The Great Kaeli.”

51

Romeria

Cold wind whips across my cheeks, drawing tears from the corners of my eyes as Caindra speeds high above the mountains, Valk and Xiaric at her flank. The dragons use the cloud cover to travel west and then south over Venhorn’s range without any orders to do so. It’s as if they know the grim reality of what Atticus’s letter warned.

Zander and Abarrane fly with Valk, Zander’s stony focus below us, searching for proof that his brother lies. That was the first thing he declared when he finished reading the letter from Kier—that it had to be part of some elaborate new ruse to distract him while Atticus, making a rash deal with his captor, attempted to regain Islor’s throne.

But as everyone in the tent quarreled over the letter’s validity and how Atticus could have any clue of this impossible army he claims is sweeping toward Bellcross when he is in Ostros, Zander met my eyes, and I saw the fear shining in his.

How Atticus learned of Malachi’s plan doesn’t matter. What does is that our efforts to stop this impossible Saur’goth army from reaching Islor have failed.

It’s already here. I know it in my gut.

Without their usual screech to announce themselves, the three dragons dive in unison, breaking through the cloud screen that conceals us.

I gasp.

That’s Norcaster.

Was Norcaster. Now it’s a pile of rubble, the wooden wall that before encircled the town lying on the ground like scattered matchsticks. Bodies mark the grass.

“What should we do?” I yell. “Do we stop? Look for survivors?”

“Keep going!” Zander shouts, pointing south.

I nod. Right. There is potentially so much worse ahead.

Solange and another of her fire Shadows rest within Xiaric’s claws, witnessing the devastation. Trampled ground, flattened houses, bodies cast aside by stables where the army pilfered meals. There’s little evidence of overnight camps. Do these beasts stop to sleep?

Here and there, I spot a cluster of females, scrubbing blood from clothes or hauling bodies into a pile—likely to burn. But it seems all the men have been slaughtered.

“There!” Jarek points to the trees. From this vantage point, the movement is subtle, like ants scampering through grass, but the closer we get, the clearer the bleak picture becomes.

Thousands of Saur’goths charge ahead. And this is the tail end of it. As we fly on, the horde grows thicker, until the rolling hills that skirt Bellcross are moving, the blanket of warriors thick. “No …” My stomach sinks at the plumes of smoke that rise from the pale gray stone towers. The gates have been destroyed, the enemy flowing through freely. Once a welcoming city, it’s now overrun. Soon, it will be in ruin.

Caindra screeches and banks right, avoiding a bolt as it sails past us.

I was so distracted by the entire devastating scene, I didn’t notice the ballistae set up within the trees below. They knew we would come, and they’re waiting for us.

“Romeria! Shield!” Jarek yells as another bolt flies.

I manage to throw one up at the last moment, sending the arrow ricocheting dangerously close to Valk.

“Spread out!” Zander roars.

“I can’t shield everyone when we’re apart!” My words are lost as the dragons separate.

Below, the enemy is scrambling to reload and aim. Several more of these projectiles sail toward the dragons, one nearly catching Valk’s neck. We’re quickly losing our advantage.

My heartbeat is in my throat as I unleash all four affinities at the defense line below. A white light explodes as it hits, charring everything in its path—the enemies, their weapons, the trees—and leaving a deep gouge in the earth.

---