Page 153 of The Dryad Storm

Alarm flashes not just through her power, but through Fyordin’s, Or’myr’s, and Viger’s. Viger’s low hiss vibrates through their bond, the world around them pulsing Dark as the winged army of black-clad soldiers soar in and hover above their translucent dome-shield, the soldiers horned and night dark in hue.

Zhilon’ile Wyvern-shifters.

Or’myr holds up a cautionary hand as one of the figures swoops lower than the others, flying down to the shield’s surface. “I know him,” Or’myr says warily. “Vothendrile Xanthile’s brother, Gethindrile.”

A low growl rises in Viger’s throat. “I sense a threat,” he hisses.

“By order of the joint Zhilaan and Vu Trin forces,” Gethindrile booms, his wings beating on air, “drop your shielding!”

“Can you let only him in?” Tierney asks Or’myr.

“I can,” Or’myr answers as Vothe’s brother waits. Or’myr glances toward Fyordin and Viger, an unspoken search for confirmation in his eyes.

Both Fyordin and Viger give him quick nods of assent, drawing up their poweras Tierney gathers her own. Seeming satisfied, Or’myr calls out, “Only Geth comes through!” before he points his Wand-Stylus toward Gethindrile, murmurs a spell, and blasts out a thin bolt of violet lightning.

A small opening in the shield forms on contact, edged with raying, purple light. Vothe’s brother soars through it, the opening snapping shut behind him. Landing gracefully on the bank before them, Gethindrile has a combative look on his chiseled onyx face, bright white threads of lightning forking over his skin.

“Gethindrile,” Or’myr greets him, wand leveled.

The Wyvern-shifter’s wings snap in tight behind him, Gethindrile’s gaze sweeping over them all in a tight glare. “You were all summoned by the Vu Trin to come in for questioningweeks agopertaining to your relationship with the Magedom’s Black Witch.”

Or’myr lets out an aggravated sigh. “Well, I declined the summons, Geth.”

“I flat-out ignored it,” Fyordin states, crossing his muscular arms in front of his broad chest as he and Tierney silently continue to draw up a formidable level of water magic, Or’myr quietly gathers his lightning, and Viger stealthily readies his full Darkness.

“You cannot justignorea military summons,” Gethindrile counters, lightning practically spitting out of his dark eyes.

A hard pulse of Viger’s Darkness strobes through the surrounding world, twin black snakes suddenly draped across his shoulders. The serpents open their mouths, purple tongues flickering as they hiss at Gethindrile.

“You think you can summon Death?” Viger asks, lethally quiet, his lips lifting into a vicious grin. “Death does the summoning, Wyvern’kin.” Snakes are suddenly streaming in from the Forest and River to surround Gethindrile, Viger’s ire clearly piqued.

Easy, Tierney thinks to him through the bond.He’s not our true enemy.

Viger glares at her, then glances pointedly toward the Wyvern army hovering high above.We are depleted.His voice shivers through her.The bulk of our power is flowing into the Vo’s shielding. And I sense a warring threat coming off of them in waves.

Unease rises in Tierney.Point taken, she concedes.

“You are being ordered,” Gethindrile states formally as he eyes the gathering serpents, “by the commanders of Noilaan and Zhilaan’s joint Vu Trin forces, toimmediatelyunshield the Vo River. Comply, and your ignored summons will go unpunished.”

Tierney’s Asrai power rears alongside Fyordin’s. “The Magedom has attacked our River from both ends,” Fyordin growls before describing their battle with the V’yexwraith and Vogel’s forces. “Why would you want it unshielded?”

“We have need of this river’s elemental energy,” Gethindrile answers. “To blast through the shielding the Black Witch and her forces have placed over the Dyoi Forest and the Zonor River. We need to draw on all of the elemental power of that land and water to create a storm band strong enough to battle Marcus Vogel’s Shadow storm bands to the west of us. The Mage forces have close to total control over not just the Western Realm, but the continent’s entire center, including Northern Ishkartaan, and they’re about to invade Southern Ishkartaan.”

Shock hits Tierney like a hammer blow. She can feel it reverberating through Viger, Fyordin, and Or’myr as well, straight through the bond.

A threat. There’s a threat to the Balance here.

Coming from theirownside.

“If you draw up enough power from the Dyoi and the Zonor for a storm band,” Fyordin warns, “you’ll consumetoo much. You’ll not only throw the East’s Natural Balance into utter disarray, you’ll completely destabilize the East’s weather.”

Gethindrile glares at him. “Marcus Vogel has mowed down almost thewhole centerof the continent. If he comes here, he’ll destroy theentire East. And you’re worried about weather thatwecontrol?”

Fyordin’s jaw hardens, a maelstrom in his eyes. “Your arrogance will be your undoing,” he snarls. “Zhilaan only ‘controls’ the weather when working with a Balanced Natural World. But that Balance will be blasted into chaos if you destroy the Zonor and the Dyoi. We’re holding our shield.”

“The Asrai are right to stand their ground,” Viger agrees, serpent calm, but there’s nothing calm about his full-Dark stare. “Too much of the Natural World has been lost. Lose more, and you will bring a Full Death Reckoning down on your heads.”

Gethindrile’s expression turns explosive as he casts a daggered glare at Viger. “Do you even care what’s at stake here?”

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