“Du lirthín denír, akar.”
You made this, brother.
Two of the smaller dragons tore at Helios’s side, but as he and the green dragon fell, the wind flapping around them, they pulled away. Helios buried his talons into the dragon’s belly, slicing through scale and flesh. He opened his jaws and poured fire down over the other dragon’s head, unleashing a roar before sinking his teeth back into the creature’s throat and deeper into its flesh. With a fury raging through him, Helios ripped the dragon’s neck from its body, blood spraying into the wind.
He released his talons from the creature’s belly and let the body fall before crunching down on the neck and throwing itto the wind. As the dragon’s body spun and plummeted to the plains below, where the scattered remnants of the Lorian armies were falling back, a pang of guilt and pain twisted within Eltoar.
The Draleid clung to the severed neck of his Soulkin, face pressed against the scales. He made no effort to shield himself from the impact of the landing or to jump free.
“I will not tear another soul in half,”Tivar’s voice echoed once more, carving Eltoar apart. He did not want to kill any more of his kind. He had hoped he’d seen the last of that years ago.
Eltoar forced himself to watch until the green dragon’s body smashed into the ground below, a cloud of dust rising, chunks of dirt launching into the air.
A roar sounded behind him, and in that moment, Eltoar and Helios set that guilt alight and turned to face the others.
Rist’s legsmoved with little thought, forwards and only forwards. He shifted Magnus with his shoulder, attempting to redistribute the man’s weight, body aching. Magnus was awake, but barely. He had come close to burning himself out, and the drain had almost taken him. Shouting and chatter rang out across the fields around him, but it was all a blur.
“Come with me… Rist, please…”
Calen’s voice plagued Rist’s mind. His throat tightened at the thought, heart racing. Calenwasthe Draleid. What he had seen in the Well of Arnen had been true… or at least some of it. But how much? Had it been a vision of the future? His mind was a storm, nothing settled, everything raging and whirling.
Everything in his heart had wanted him to go with Calen. He had heard his own voice screaming at him in his mind to takeCalen’s hand… to go. But then he’d seen Magnus on the ground, Garramon calling out with his face burnt – burnt by Calen –and Neera struggling to breath with her armour twisted and bent. They had needed him. He couldn’t have left them. He wouldn’t. They had stood by him through everything, given him a purpose, cared for him, believed in him. Everything had just taken him off guard… The chamber had been collapsing… Magnus couldn’t walk on his own. He’d had no choice.
Something grabbed at Rist’s shoulders and pulled, a voice bellowing in his ears. Suddenly Magnus was gone. He turned to see Garramon, face burnt and scarred, throwing Magnus over his shoulder, lips moving, sounds echoing in Rist’s ears.
Everyone around him was scattering, panic on their faces.
Something hard stung his face, then hands grabbed the sides of his head and he was staring down at Neera’s bloodied and dirt-covered face. “Rist!”
She grabbed his hand with an iron grip and pulled him as she ran.
Rist looked over his shoulder to see Taya Tambrel and a score of her Blackwatch sitting astride their obsidian mounts, pointing and yelling. Taya glanced up towards the sky, then shouted, and the horses broke into a gallop.
Rist followed Taya’s gaze to see a green-scaled dragon plummeting towards the earth. The enormous creature seemed to fall like a feather, its head and neck floating in the air beside its body, blood drifting around it. It was as though the falling dragon defied all sense of time and natural laws.
Taya shouted once more, her mighty horse churning the clay beneath its hooves. And then the dragon crashed into the earth, and Taya was gone. The dragon’s limbs crushed scores of men and women as they slammed into the ground. The ground shook, and Rist stumbled, dust and dirt spewing into the air.
The dragon’s head slammed into the earth before his eyes, snuffing soldiers’ screams in an instant. Rist turned away as Neera wrapped her arms around him and opened herself to the Spark.
Calen pushedhis strength into Valerys as the dragon tore through the skies, Varthear and Avandeer with him. He glanced over his shoulder. Seleraine was gaining on them, blue scales gleaming in the light of the sun and the Blood Moon overhead.
Had the second dragon – likely Karakes and Lyina – not joined Voranur and Seleraine, Calen would have told Valerys to turn and tear them from the skies. With Avandeer and Varthear alongside him, the blue dragon wouldn’t have stood a chance. But Karakes was even larger than Avandeer, and Varthear had no fire or Draleid on her back. There were too many risks.
“The hills!” Tivar roared, pointing towards a vast expanse of rolling hills that stretched southwards towards the Burnt Lands.
Calen was about to answer when a clap of thunder cracked above him. He looked up in awe to see dark storm clouds forming from thin air, rolling outwards like a sweeping wave and stretching across the sky. Within moments, he could no longer see the sun or moon, both shut out by a dark and ominous sky.
Boud. This was the power of a Stormcaller. Calen glanced over his shoulder once more to see Seleraine and Karakes were almost upon them. “Rise!” he shouted to Tivar. “We can lose them in the clouds!”
Valerys angled his wings and swept upwards. As he did, a roar sounded behind him and Seleraine slammed into them, sending them both reeling through the sky. The dragon was onlyatop them for a second, when Varthear crashed into Seleraine’s side and ripped the dragon free.
Varthear roared, raking her talons along Seleraine’s back and biting down into the dragon’s forelimb.
Calen looked up at the dark storm clouds, then back towards Varthear and Seleraine rolling in the sky, Karakes hurtling towards them, Helios and the other dragons battling in the distance.
A small part of him whispered in the back of his mind.“Go. Run!”If they climbed and vanished into the storm clouds, they would be gone without a trace.
Calen took that part of himself and cut it to pieces, a fire rising within him, a fury flowing from Valerys. They would not leave Varthear to die. “Aldryr ar orimyn,” Calen whispered, and Valerys lurched forwards, unleashing a primal roar, a pressure swelling within him.