Page 130 of Dragon Fires Everywhere
But just as he’s about to reach his target, the zombie’s tail—which looks exactly like a weasel’s—whips out lightning-fastand slams against his body, sending him hurtling down to the ground.
I reach out, trying to stop his fall with magic, but it’s too far, and I have so little, and—
I watch my daddiveforward from the back of the melee. And then he blocks Gideon’s inevitable crash to the ground by catching him.
In his arms.
As brave as can be.
I want to revel in that, but I can’t, because something is creeping up my back. I whirl with the sword and manage to cut offthe tendril before it latches around my throat—but that’s all the warning I need. I have to pay attention to my own attackersor I’ll be taken out.
Jacob and Emerson are on the stage, but they keep having to fend off attacks. They can’t speak the necessary vows. I try toget to them, but it’s not quick or easy.
There are too many tendrils, everywhere.
And the snow keeps coming, heedless and quiet in the face of all this chaos.
When I’malmostto the stage, I hear that mighty dragon roar in the distance.
Then Azrael comes into sight, and he’s not alone.
He’s brought ghosts.
All the ghosts I know and some I don’t. I’m not sure how he managed it, but they all ride on his back or fly fanned out behindhim, as if that’s just... normal. Like the afterlife is all about dragon rides and air currents.
He drops them off at the stage.
“We can’t do much, but we’ll do what we can,” Lillian tells me as I climb up on the stage myself, beating the tendrils offas they try to drag me back.
I point at Jacob and Emerson. “Protect them so they can finish the vows.”
My grandmother—and it still makes me feel good to call her that—gives a ghostly nod, then rallies her ghost troops. They forma circle around Emerson and Jacob, and with whatever vestiges of power and energy they have left or can summon, they worktogether to block everything flinging itself Jacob and Emerson’s way.
I want to help them, but I have to assume they’ve got it.
I need to put myself back into the fight.
I think of fighting spells. I think of every anti-evil speech I’ve ever heard. I try to feel all of thatrightinside me and propel it out toward all thatwrong.
But as I do, I see Azrael fly low with fire shooting out of his mouth, and he’s just ahairtoo close to Carol.
She suddenly has a sword, just like mine but fully black. She flings it upward, and it rips through Azrael’s belly. I screamout, feeling that pain like I’ve been sliced open too. I want to fly toward him, but a tendril of black has gotten aroundmy ankle. It burns, though I barely feel it.
I need to get to Azrael.
Maybe I scream that.
Zander’s trying to free me, but then Emerson’s voice rings out. Loud. Sure. “Because love cannot be torn asunder.Love will set us free.”
Something cracks so loudly I nearly drop the sword and slam my hands over my ears. I don’t. Somehow I don’t, but I’m suddenlyfree of the tendril, and I can move.
To Azrael.
It’s chaos now. An earthquake. Black magic explosions. A veritable war zone, but I rush to Azrael anyway, like my life dependson it. I know, deep down, it does.
And I’m not happy when I get there. He’s bleeding dark and oilyevilfrom the stomach, laid out on the ground while a few witch Healers try to help him.
Somewhat tentatively.
