She thought about responding to Jaxi, but the dragon was almost upon them, fury burning in its eyes. Fury and pain. Whatever Morishtomaric had come for, he seemed to have forgotten. They had hurt him, and he was enraged. She was sure a few of Tolemek’s bullets had made it through when Kaika had dropped that bomb, so they should be eating away at the creature’s hide even now. This was her chance to open him up to further damage, to lower his defenses permanently. Then she could make up for her shameful moment on the rooftop when, once again, she had failed to control Kasandral.
“Hang on,” Zirkander yelled back to her.
Not easy while gripping a sword. She risked sheathing it for a moment, so she could grip the edge of the wing with both hands and anchor one boot on the other side. She kept one foot beneath her, ready to spring.
Zirkander made it look like he was going to fly around the dragon, to avoid the beast’s deadly fire, but at the last moment, as Morishtomaric turned to track them, he went into a dive. Cas gulped, muscles straining as she struggled to hold on.
He leveled out quickly, surprising the dragon as he twisted to dip down and follow them. Zirkander came up again, and for a moment, Morishtomaric was heading straight down while their flier was heading straight up. They passed in parallel, with no more than ten feet between them. A small distance in an aerial battle, but a canyon for someone in a precarious perch. Cas did the only thing she could do if she wanted to hit her target. She sprang free from the wing, tearing the sword from its sheath.
The wind beat at her as if she were a leaf, but her powerful spring sent her toward the dragon’s belly as they were passing each other. Even so, she might have missed him if gravity hadn’t been on her side. Almost immediately, she fell downward as well as outward.
With the snow lashing sideways, she couldn’t see the ground and had no idea how high she was, but that might have been for the best. Already, such panic clutched her that she almost forgot what she was supposed to be doing.
Fearing she might reach the end of her tether before she touched the dragon, Cas slashed over her head, her movements more wild than calculating. She had no idea how far out the dragon’s invisible shield extended from his body. All she could do was hope it was like that of the sorceress’s around the Cofah airship and that she could lower it by striking it.
Even though she wanted to connect with it, when she actually did, the surprise and power of the moment struck her like a bolt of lightning. At first, she thought she
had
been struck by lightning. Power crackled around her, jolting her to the spine, and a flash nearly blinded her. If not for a bubbling hum of pleasure that coursed up her arm from Kasandral, she wouldn’t have been certain she had encountered the dragon’s shield.
A second jolt racked her body, and she almost dropped Kasandral. This jolt came from her ankle, and fiery pain burst up her entire leg. The tether, she realized numbly, as she was dragged into the sky with such speed that it stole her breath. She forced herself to yell cogent words, though she only wanted to scream in pain.
“I got it,” she yelled, hoping Zirkander could hear her. “It’s down! Get him!”
She had no idea how long it would take before Morishtomaric could reestablish his shield, and she hoped he had been zapped even more fiercely than she. As she was dragged behind Zirkander’s flier, her shirt flew up around her armpits, and she lost her cap and goggles. Sleet beat at her face and her bare stomach. She could scarcely see, and only her senses told her they were turning, the centrifugal force tearing at her as the tether pulled her in the flier’s wake.
When she had envisioned herself doing this, she had imagined climbing back up the tether to the seat again as easily as a monkey, but between the wind and the speed and the force from the flier’s turns, it was all she could do not to let go of Kasandral. She feared she was going to be stuck back there until Zirkander landed—or this ended some other way. Could she even survive a landing?
“Worry about that later,” she muttered, the wind stealing her words from her lips. They had a dragon to defeat before she could think about her own safety.
Gunshots rang out, both from ahead of her and from behind. Confused, she twisted her neck in time to see a second flier streaking toward the dragon. Pimples, of course. He gaped at her as his machine guns cracked. She had a ludicrous thought that he might be gaping at her exposed torso and laughed. Was this what going mad felt like?
A roar came from the dragon. It was almost a scream. Part rage and part agony?
“Did we hit it?” she yelled, as if anyone could hear her or she could have heard Zirkander if he replied.
The guns halted. She twisted, trying to spot the dragon, but she couldn’t even see Pimples anymore. Her shirt whipped at her face, and though she struggled one-handed to push it down, it was in vain. She flapped about at the end of her tether, as helpless as a flag to do anything.
A tug at her ankle surprised her. Something had snapped in her knee earlier, and a fresh jolt of fiery agony raced up her leg. She gasped, blackness encroaching on her vision. She blinked rapidly as if she could drive the darkness away.
It took her a moment to realize she was being pulled in. By Zirkander? It couldn’t be anyone else, but how was he managing that while flying? Her rope was secured to the frame of the back seat.
“Ahn!” came his cry, sounding a mile away instead of twenty feet. “If you’re conscious, I need your help. The dragon is after Pimples at this second, but we haven’t got much time.”
They were still flying at full speed. What help could she give? She waved her sword, if only to let him know she was, indeed, conscious. She tried to twist and grab the tether with her free hand, but she wasn’t strong enough to best the force generated by their speed. With another slightly insane laugh, she decided she should have run this idea past Pimples and had him calculate just how impossible climbing back into the flier would be.
Despite her uselessness, she was pulled inexorably closer until her foot bumped something hard. Zirkander, twisted halfway out of his seat and flying with his
boot
, hauled her into the flier. The expression contorting his face was impossible to read. Maybe that was for the best.
As she clawed her way into her seat, he yelled, “You’re crazier than I am, Ahn.”
“That’s why we tied me to the tether, wasn’t it?” she yelled back, halfway between elation and disbelief that she was still alive. Kasandral kept smacking the rim of her seat well, and she realized it was because her hands were shaking so much. “Did we get him?”
“We hurt him before he got his defenses back up, but he’s still flying.” Zirkander lowered himself into his seat, taking the stick in hand again.
“Little help, sir?” Pimples asked over the crystal. “He’s—”
A crack like a rifle firing sounded from Pimples’ cockpit. Cas’s stomach sank. She was certain he didn’t
have
a rifle with him.
Zirkander turned their flier around, and Cas caught sight of Pimples’ craft as it sailed downward, streaming smoke, the tail on fire. Distress and fear brought tears to her eyes. Pimples might or might not survive his landing. Either way, she and the general were all alone now.
Chapter 20
I
hate to interrupt you, but I’m sensing more trouble on the horizon.
Sardelle was using her mental powers to rebuild Therrik’s collapsed right lung, and the concentration required was intense enough that she had lost all track of the outpost. She had already knitted the gash in his left lung, as well as the broken rib that had been responsible for it. He had other wounds, but those could wait until they weren’t in the middle of the courtyard with a battle raging overhead.
That battle is over the back side of Goat Mountain right now, but that’s not the trouble on the horizon. Also, there’s so much sleet and snow falling that I’m only guessing there’s a horizon out there somewhere.
When Sardelle reached a point where she could stop working on Therrik and he wouldn’t die, she knelt back, opening her eyes and blinking around her. As Jaxi had promised, Ridge and the others weren’t in sight. That didn’t mean much since clouds hung thick around the mountains and sleet continued to slash from the sky, reducing the visibility. Jaxi was still protecting Sardelle and her patient from the elements, but she could hear the wind roaring through the valley. She also heard General Ort issuing orders from one of the towers, but she could only make out the outpost wall closest to them. She tried to sense Ridge, to check on the battle, but he was out of her range.
He’s alive
, Jaxi said,
probably just beyond the edge of your senses. The wind has driven them away from the valley. The airship was attacked—mutilated—and went down. Duck and Kaika’s flier was hit by lightning, and they were forced to land in the valley. Ridge and Cas are still out there. Pimples’ craft was damaged, and he’s trying to find a spot to land.
Is the dragon wounded at
all
?
Sardelle couldn’t keep the frustration and despair from her words at this devastating report.
Yes, they’ve hurt him, but all that has done is enrage him. He’s either forgotten about the pretty crystal, or he’s decided to annihilate everyone before coming back for it
.
The artifact lay on its side in the mud where Sardelle had left it. She and Therrik were alone in the courtyard, aside from Phelistoth and Tylie. When last Sardelle had looked, Tylie had been leaning against her wounded dragon and crying on him. Now she lay atop his back, arms wrapped around his neck. It was the position she rode him in. After a long look to the south, Phelistoth rose slowly to his feet. Blood stained the frosty earth under him, and weariness and pain made his movements slow and stiff. Despite his injuries, he crouched and sprang skyward. His wings beat with enough power to take them into the air. Tylie’s tear-streaked faced turned toward Sardelle.
He’s too hurt to fight more
, Tylie whispered into her mind.
He says to leave the crystal, that it’s not worth dying for.
Is he taking you somewhere safe?
Yes. Do you want me to ask him if he’ll come get you too?
Phelistoth had already disappeared from Sardelle’s view, flying into the clouds hanging low in the valley.
I can’t leave while Ridge and everyone else is still in danger,
Sardelle said,
but I agree with his thought to take you somewhere safe.
I don’t. But I’m too puny to be any help.
Tylie’s sad sigh came through the mental link.
Someday, you won’t be.
If we live that long
, Jaxi interrupted.
Phelistoth’s tragic departure isn’t what I was warning you about.
I was afraid of that.
At first, I thought I sensed the sorceress.
Here in the outpost?
Sardelle dropped a hand to Jaxi’s pommel. She was still on her knees beside Therrik, but she would get up to fight if she had to.
No, at a lower elevation. On foot or maybe on horseback and heading this way, but another problem showed up, and now I can’t sense her. I’m not even positive it was her that I felt.
What problem?
Sardelle could only think of one thing that would overwhelm Jaxi’s senses.
More dragons.
Dragons? Plural?
Yes, and they’re flying this way.
From where? The cavern?
Unless you know of a place where more dragons have been hiding, that would be my guess.
Sardelle stared down at the purple crystal. Who had released them? And was the crystal what they were coming for? She could feel its power, but she couldn’t imagine that power acting as a beacon across hundreds of miles. Phelistoth hadn’t sensed it, as far as she knew, until they had been down in the mountain and close to it.
First off, I’m not positive that’s true. Second, it was in a vault before, and I think that vault insulated the artifacts inside. I certainly was never aware of the existence of the fancy paperweight or anything else dragon-kissed, and I came in and out of the mountain thousands of times over the years with my handlers. What you need to decide now is whether we’re going to try to hide it from the new dragons or stand back and let them have it. Judging by how much trouble we’re having with
one
dragon, I suggest the latter.
While Sardelle was staring bleakly at the crystal, which glowed softly but otherwise offered no advice, Therrik opened his eyes.
He still lay flat on his back in the ice and mud, and she felt guilty that she hadn’t taken him into the machine shop where there were blankets and cots for the injured.
He should be tickled that you didn’t throttle him while he was unconscious. I might have.
“What’s… status?” Therrik rasped, a hand going to his abdomen. He should be able to breathe normally now, but he still had damage that would hurt.
“The airship is down, General Ort is on the wall, and Ridge and Cas are fighting the dragon.” Oh, how Sardelle wished she could monitor that fight. When she had decided to stay behind, she’d assumed the air battle would be nearby and that she could help Ridge if necessary. She hadn’t factored in the wind. Now she wished she was up there. Even if Cas had to fly with Ridge, she could have ridden behind Pimples. Maybe she could have kept him in the air. And Duck and Kaika too.
If you’d left, your biggest fan would be dead. Stop berating yourself, and then decide what we’re going to do. I can shield you from hail all day, but not from a pack of dragons.
A
pack
? Did they all get released from that cavern? And if so, how?
According to General Ort’s report, the Cofah had been
bombing
the cavern, not rescuing dragons from it.