Page 152 of Dragon Fate (Age of Fire 6)

“Sloppy fliers. Like bumblebees! Don’t engage, hit light and dodge the counterstrike.”

“Pair off,” DharSii bellowed. “Pass word: Pair off! Just nip them at the wingtips!”

For the more experienced former warriors of the Aerial Host, the tactical advice wasn’t necessary. They’d already sniffed out these mutated griffaran’s weakness and were improvising methods for taking advantage of it.

One of the Lights—AuRon’s daughter Varatheela, by the look of it—flapped hard, her wingmate trying to keep up. She went straight at one of the glistening, reptilian griffaran. It raised its claws to meet her snout, but at the last moment she turned on her belly—a very dangerous move—and grabbed a sii-ful of feathers out of the edge of its wing as she passed.

Ungainly before, the dreadful griffaran plummeted like a duck with an arrow through its wing.

“Those edges are everything with a bird-wing,” DharSii said. He executed a dive and two griffaran swooped to follow. Extending legs, wings, tail, and even griff to their maximum, he slowed his pace in the air and they passed overhead, claws out and grasping at air. Both were marking DharSii’s course rather than each other and collided. A loose feather flew up and the two griffaran, senseless or dead, fell limp from the sky.

“I watched your brother making that move once,” DharSii said, watching with satisfaction as the griffaran struck the mountainside. “He slows himself more easily than I.”

NiVom must not have had much time to evaluate his new griffaran against live dragons. Of course, keeping secrets meant no one could tell you when you’ve gone wrong.

The trolls were another matter.

Don’t think of it as a battle. Think of it as a big hunt.

“Same thing as our hunts, only in the air,” Wistala said. “One of us draws its attention, the other one strikes!”

“I’m first,” DharSii said.

He plunged into the path of a troll and spat whatever remnants of his firebladder he could—more to get the troll’s attention than in expectation of setting it alight. He made a convincing show attack, lashing out with quick flips of his wingtips and tail in a series of blows aimed at its stalked sense-organ cluster.

The troll rolled—an unexpected move—and its arms windmilled, striking DharSii hard in the side. DharSii sagged under the blow and a wing went folded, the sign of a bad injury to the back muscles or ribs.

Wistala, silently asking the sun and spirits to have it be a clever ruse, folded her wings and dove. She didn’t open them again, even when she struck the troll a hard body blow. She ripped with sii and saa, tearing the roots of the troll’s butterfly-like wings to shreds, felt it pounding her back, but she kept her wings closed tight as they fell like bloodily mating dragons.

The troll panicked and released her and she turned as she fell away, dodged a griffaran, and opened her wings again. DharSii fell in a tight series of spirals on his good wing, heading for the unforgiving mountainside beneath the Lavadome’s crest.

Chapter 20

With Rayg and Imfamnia leading the way up, they climbed Imperial Rock.

“You’re welcome to the throne room, if you want to eat and rest for a bit. Regalia certainly has no use for it anymore. It’s cleaner than most quarters. Some of the lower levels are still a bit—damp,” Rayg said.

A troll led each of them. It held a thick piece of chain wrapped around their necks. One hard pull from the trolls just under the jaw and their vertebrae would snap.

“Each of you will do anything to keep the other alive,” Rayg said. “You won’t risk fighting us, because the trolls will throttle you. If you try to escape, I’ll get one. Which means I’ll get both of you.”

“Weakness indeed,” Imfamnia said.

“Yes, it’s better to partner with someone you despise,” AuRon said. “Perhaps you two will set the new social standard.”

Imfamnia laughed. “I’m remembering why she used to admire you.”

“What are you going to do with us?” AuRon asked.

“In memory of your kindly brother,” Rayg said, “we’ll keep you alive, but imprisoned. I need a few couples for breeding stock, after all. Someone has to produce my perfected dragons.”

Can we find the strength to die together, AuRon? Natasatch asked. I won’t be chained in the dark again.

I won’t have my offspring declawed and desensitized.

They led them up onto the gardens atop Imperial Rock and toward Rayg’s lab.

“I’m just going to do one minor operation,” Rayg said. “I’ll sever the muscles around your firebladder. Better safe than spontaneously combusted.”

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