CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Dravarr

The nets Ashley designed are working. Half the sluagh filling the air of the village green hover dormant, unable to do anything with one of their number trapped in one of our sacks.

But it’s barely any help. There are somanyof the damned soul eaters.

Especially since they’re true to their name, each peck of their blood-red beaks stealing the life force of my people.

The last ogre falls before me, and I immediately scour the sky. My bride!

An adult dragon hangs in the air over the green, their wide leathery wings blotting out most of the sky.

Ashley flies between them and the ground, her sunrise hair blazing around her, becoming the village’s new sun.

Mynew sun.

Hope fills me. She’s alive!

And she’s heading straight for me, flying right into the middle of the attacking sluagh, Drakonisrevener beside her. Ashley pulls something from her pocket and shakes it, and the magic bluebell the pixies gave her rings once, a high, tinkling note that soars above the deeper thuds and clashes of battle.

The youngling shoots short bursts of flame, incinerating individual birds with excellent aim. But it’s the usual problem—killing a single bird from a sluagh flock does nothing to harm the whole.

My bride has no such weapon. Indeed, she’s shirtless but for one of her scraps of pink! Her shirt’s bundled into a ball in her hand, which she waves to batter birds out of her path. A subdued flock follows her like her own personal storm cloud—she’s captured one.

It does nothing to keep the active sluagh from attacking her.

Or me. A jab digs into the middle of my back, stealing the strength from my muscles. They’ve stolen enough by now that I’m beginning to feel the effects, as are all of my people around me.

Orcs cover the ground. Their chests still move, meaning they haven’t been completely drained. There’s still hope. Everyone still able to fights on.

“Pick a place where you can stand over your fallen clan mates!” I bellow. “Keep the sluagh from making the killing blow!”

Warriors sidestep to better protect those on the ground, their swords cutting active birds from the air, the tiny bodies falling away to disappear before they touch the ground.

Mother moves to cover two downed warriors to my left, and Rovann and Krivoth do the same on my right. I step forward toprotect the last netting team, who snag the vicious black birds from the air and bag them with practiced ease.

It’s not enough.

None of it isenough.

And my bride’s flying into the thick of it!

Rage flares through me, turning the world red. I slam my sword into the scabbard and snatch two nets from the ground. I turn into a whirling tornado, the nets slicing through the air, capturing sluagh birds in angry flutters of wings, red beaks open on ear-splitting croaks.

I don’t try to bag them, scooping in as many as each net will hold before slamming the trapdoor shut on all of them.

A flash of orange and pink beside me. My bride’s doing the same thing! She’s picked up a net and zips through the air, scooping birds into it, while the dragon youngling protects her back.

Pixies pour into the village green, woken from their daily slumber, their glow muted by the sunshine of day. Glints of silver flash in the air as they pull free their swords and shout a ringing battle cry of, “Pizza!” They split into pairs to attack the individual black birds of one flock of sluagh.

High overhead, the adult dragon roars, shooting flames at any of the sluagh who attempt to flee.

Midnight and the other unicorns thunder into the clearing, having defeated the kelpies. My friend rears, snatching an active bird out of the sky and holding it between her open jaws like a cat carrying a hunting trophy.

One of the birds flies past, a pixie sitting on its shoulders like a rider on a mount. But this rider flashes a small silver sword, the blade plunging into the bird’s side. The moment it finds the heart, the bird dissolves under the pixie, and her moth wings flutter to keep her in the air.

As the numbers of subdued sluagh increase, strength returns to me, the colors, sounds, and smells snapping back into full life. The orcs on the ground begin to stir.