Page 82 of The Dragon Queen

“Those bastards…” All of Glimmer’s rage was contained in Draven’s voice. He gripped me, gripped the saddle as we rose above the battlements. “You thought to launch an attack on my wing? Show them the error of their ways, lad.”

It was such a benign pet name for such a powerful creature. Glimmer stood just behind Darkspire’s head, watching her mate, right before he released his terrible breath on the castle.

Men screamed, ballistas collapsed, broken down in seconds. Even the stone walls themselves seemed to sizzle under his onslaught. Darkspire was winging backwards, the other dragons doing the same, to escape getting caught in the back draft.

And that’s when the last ballista struck.

Safe, on the other side of the battlements, we hadn’t hit it yet. Obviously, the operator saw the carnage and thought this was their last chance to strike back. I stiffened, hearing the clunking sounds, unable to watch Darkspire wreak havoc, not when we were now in the ballista’s sights.

Noooo….!

The thought elongated, distorted, begging a cruel world for some mercy, but we received none. I watched the javelin shoot forward as if in slow motion. Darkspire screamed in rebellion, whirling around in response. Not away from the javelin. In his maddened state, it was as if he saw the projectile as another dragon, threatening his territory.

Up, lad, up!Draven begged him furiously, clawing at the saddle, but it made little difference. The dragon sucked in a breath, ready to melt the javelin from the sky, right as Obsidian cut across its path.

“No!”

My king and I shouted that out at the same time, because while Obsidian sent a gout of lightning crackling down the javelin’s shaft, it didn’t stop it. Instead, I heard a dull thud, then Obsidian’s scream as the dragon veered off at a drunken angle.

“Get us down there!” I barked, as if I was the general, not Rex. “And burn every single one of those ballistas to the ground. Burn them all!”

I knew what it was to be a dragon then. I quivered with the same fury, same arrogance as I rose up from the saddle. It felt like my eyes locked with the ballista operator, daring him to load another javelin, even as his comrades did just that. They would not stop, not until they were made to, and I had to ensure that happened.

“Get back!” Draven shouted, his hand slapping down on the saddlebag.

They weren’t doing anything right. Darkspire was dragging us upwards, not away, towards Obsidian, the other dragon’s screams echoing in my ears. All the dragons moved as one, pulling back from the chaos, their swift movements too much for the ballista. It’s gears went clunk, clunk, clunk as it fought to find its target again.

It wouldn’t succeed.

We took to the clouds, the castle looking like a toy from this height, and that’s when Draven pulled what he was looking for from his saddlebags. A familiar looking vial encased in ice emerged, held between his hands. I think Draven experienced a moment of claritythen. It was a pause that allowed him to reconsider his plan of action, but whatever he might’ve been thinking was shattered when we heard Obsidian’s scream.

“Draven…”

I didn’t know what to say, what to do, just that tears filled my eyes.Is Obsidian all right?I asked Glimmer.Is Brom? Did they fall? Did they…?

The thought was cut off as Draven’s jaw muscle flexed and then he tossed his burden. Down, down, down the vial went, the ice melting off as it went. It felt like I went with it, right before the whole world erupted.

This was completely different to destroying the hulk in the bay. It was an old, listing abandoned ship, but this was Nevermere. A scream built in my throat, but it was snatched away by the blast that followed.

I’d seen this kind of destruction before, in the visions I had received. What was missing from that was the stink, the screams, the cries. I didn’t get to dwell on that. Draven turned Darkspire abruptly, seeking Brom and Obsidian like a hound on the trail.

We landed in a wood somewhere off from the bomb site, the wind gliding over top of the trees until we came to a clearing.

And there they were.

Laid out on the ground like dolls carelessly tossed aside by a child, Obsidian and Brom had collapsed down onto the earth and didn’t move an inch.

Chapter 39

"Brom!”

I threw myself off Darkspire’s back. Glimmer came with me, flying at my side, but I could barely focus on her progress, not when the two of them lay there like that. It was lucky I was wearing leather pants because I dropped and skidded across the ground as soon as I got close. My hands rose, wanting to do something, anything, but what? Brom was too pale, too limp, too… I shook my head, forcing myself to get it together before reaching out.

“Don't touch him!” Draven’s snap had my head whipping around. He looked far too pale, his eyes blazing bright blue. “I’m sorry, Pippin, but his neck…” A low groan had us both turning back to see Brom’s eyelids flutter open. “Dear gods…”

“Gods… above.”

Brom’s reply was so faint we barely heard him, but something had me leaning forward. Draven threw himself down beside our lover, his hand taking Brom’s.

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