Page 119 of Devil's Doom

“There is always one thing… you can do… to make sure we’ll win.”

Another part of the shadowy canopy lights up with fire, then another. Distant explosions rumble like thunder. Woland roars, throwing his head back, and a gale of black smoke tears from his open mouth, rushing into the sky. Roars of pain answer, and he drops his arms, falling to his knees. When the darkness falls away, the sky is clear.

And half-dragon forms attack the rebels by the fence.

Chapter forty

Ashes

“Fun’s over,” Woland growls, bracing with both hands on the ground. “Get to work.”

I head cautiously down the slope, Lech and two chochols, my guard, surrounding me from three sides. Already, I see people to treat. A mamuna sports a deep gash on her arm. A chochol limps toward me while a strzyga and two upirs launch themselves at a dragon getting ready to attack him.

“Here. I’m a healer,” I call out, so the wounded know where to find me.

On both my sides, healers stretch along the fence, sticking to the edges of the fray. Here and there, digging stops, but a large cluster of workers at the center works frantically, strzygas and kobolds holding the dragons at bay. I see Draga again, her long knives flashing in the moonlight, red with blood.

The limping chochol makes it to me, and I get down on my knees, grabbing his ankle in both hands. Twisted. I twist it back, and he howls with pain, but my magic is already fixing the damage. It takes a minute, and the chochol rushes back to his abandoned shovel. I run ahead, steering clear of the dragons, and grab the bleeding mamuna.

“It will only take a second,” I grunt when she refuses to follow me.

I treat her, and a strzyga floats an unconscious chochol my way. His head looks squashed, eyes glassy when I lift his eyelids. I check his pulse. Dead.

One of my guards pulls the body away while I treat a wound, a broken arm, a concussion. Magic pours out of me, and I forget Nienad’s teachings about conserving it. My only goal is to heal, heal, heal—so our warriors can go back to fighting, so we have a chance of winning.

I have no idea how long Nienad needs to do his part, but we must keep Perun’s forces occupied until he’s done.

“Look out!”

I duck on instinct. A throwing knife disappears in the dark, and I look up to see a grinning, half-transformed dragon charging at us. Lech jumps in front of me, and the chochols guarding me pull me back, but not before I send an invisible rope to tangle between the dragon’s legs.

He wobbles, losing his balance, and that’s enough. Lech sinks a blade in the dragon’s throat, and then his fangs in the side of his neck. He drinks greedily while the beast still moves, but I can tell he’s fading.

“Lech! We need you!”

A chochol falls at my feet, bleeding from a gash down her face. Her beak is almost severed, and I cringe, unsure how to heal her. I know enough about chochols to treat common maladies, but this is beyond my skills. I finally settle on reattaching her beak as best I can, but I already know she won’t be able to speak.

She’s breathing, though. For now, that must be enough.

Lech jumps to my side, laughing like a madman. My chochol guards help a limping kobold find me, and I treat his paw, shredded with dragon claws.

Fire bursts to my right, uncomfortably close. Lech rushes off to fight the dragon, and I lose sight of him. Smoke rises all around me, more fires burning, and there are screams and the clang of weapons. Someone howls, the sound filled with so much pain, my heart stutters. Whoever they are, I can’t reach them.

“Ow!”

I stumble against a body at my feet, and a hand, slick with blood, grabs my ankle. I drop to my knees by an upir, his chest torn open, lungs struggling to take in air.

“I’ll stabilize you but you won’t fight any more tonight,” I grit out, closing my eyes to focus on fixing the worst damage.

All I need to do is make sure the wounds stop bleeding and his heart and lungs keep working. I feel into the shredded organs, pushing away the sounds of battle, locking myself away in my mind.

I’m almost done. I just need a moment longer, to make sure he hasn’t lost too much blood, and…

My body is yanked back, and I open my eyes with a gasp. The upir I was treating is lost in the smoke, and the metallic scent of blood envelops me as someone breathes harshly, wheezing in my ear. I struggle to get free, glimpsing a flash of silver scales. A dragon.

“No!” I scream, kicking.

The dragon tugs me back, clawed hands holding my shoulder and arm. I try to twist to face him, sheer panic clouding my judgment. The claws dig in, and I feel his foul, blood-scented breath on my cheek.

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