“It is as much a part of battle as creatures that rise from the dead,” countered Yenga. “It is not important how you die. What is important is how many of the enemy you kill before your death. There will be no life for any of us if we fail here today.”
Cheers ripped through the Khadoran army as the lightning bolts resumed because the deadly missiles were falling on the Motangan soldiers instead of the Khadorans. Yenga looked puzzled at the development and then his eyes rose to the roof of the imposing building. He saw the lightning bolts aimed at the dragon and grinned broadly.
“Clever creature,” Yenga mumbled under his breath as the lightning bolts continued to slam into the hellsouls.
The lightning bolts hitting the Motangan soldiers suddenly stopped. A few moments later the mages directed the bolts at the horsemen again, but the Khadorans were well out of reach. For a long moment the battlefield remained frozen with neither side attacking. The area between the forces erupted in fountains of dirt as the magical lightning bolts blasted into the ground. Lord Marshal Yenga watched as the dragon passed over the roof of the temple. He saw two of the humans on her back jump or fall to the roof, and then he saw a blue cylinder shoot skyward.
“Resume the charge,” Emperor Marak said softly in Yenga’s ear.
Yenga grinned and waved at the distant dragon. He raised his arm high in the air and shouted for the attention of his men.
“Khadorans,” shouted Lord Marshal Yenga. “Charge!”
The horsemen charged from the east and west as the hellsouls once again took up defensive positions. The elves and Chula followed the horses once again to provide for a safe retreat if it was needed.
High above the heads of the hellsouls, the dragon flew around the temple while the Torak threw light blades at the Motangan mages. Myka watched the flaring of the magical shields for any signs of weakening.
“The one farthest to the west,” the dragon said softly. “His shield flickers faintly. Concentrate on him.”
“Can you get me in closer?” asked Emperor Marak. “I would like to try something more physical. Most shields are more effective against magic than they are against a physical object.”
“With pleasure,” grinned the winged warrior.
While the dragon looped west of the temple, Marak sheathed his sword and grabbed several Sakovan stars from his pouch. Myka dropped below the level of the roof as she approached the temple. Marak watched the stone wall of the temple approaching at a rapid rate and mentally prepared for the uplift. At the last moment before impact, the dragon soared upward and over the edge of the roof.
The Torak quickly took aim and threw two Sakovan stars at the nearest mage. He watched with satisfaction as the stars bit into their target. The mage’s hands went to the star in his temple even as his body fell to the roof. Myka swept just over the heads of the mages, her voice cackling in triumph.
“This is more like it,” grinned the dragon.
Marak heard screaming from below the dragon. He could not see the source of the screaming, but he looked back at the roof and quickly counted Motangan mages.
“You have one,” the Torak said accusingly.
“Not for long,” chuckled Myka as the screams suddenly died. “I really wouldn’t eat such a thing.”
As the dragon banked over the tyrik-web pens holding the skeleton creatures, Marak saw the lifeless body of a Motangan mage tumble downward.
“Let’s go weaken some more of them,” smiled Marak.
The dragon banked sharply for another run at the temple.
* * *
Pakar instinctively ducked as the dragon flew low overhead. He didn’t bother to be distracted by the dragon, but he thought he heard screaming as Myka passed by. His eyes flicked to his left, and he quickly counted heads. Two mages were missing. He frowned with concern and then saw two black-cloaks dash from the door of the temple and run around behind the small structure in the center of the roof. He nodded approvingly as he thought that two of his men had taken the initiative to get closer to the blue cylinder. Only when the spells from the two black-cloaks began impacting on his shields did he understand that something was wrong.
“Who are they?” yelled Pakar.
“Xavo and Lady Mystic,” one of his men replied.
“Traitors!” shouted Pakar. “Some of you go get them.”
Two mages split off from the group and approached the hidden traitors. It was at that moment that Myka and the Torak returned.
“Do not harm the two behind the structure,” warned Marak as he threw a Sakovan star at one of the advancing mages. “They are friends.”
“They should dress differently,” Myka scowled as her claws grabbed the other advancing mage and carried him off.
“How are you able to pierce their shields?” Marak asked as the dragon discarded another dead mage.
“The same way that you can kill them with your stars,” answered the dragon. “When their shields weaken, it is the physical protection that fails first.”
“My stars won’t hurt me if their shields are too strong,” frowned Marak. “I will just fail to kill them. The same cannot be said for your claws. You may cripple yourself.”
“Lyra will heal me,” retorted the dragon. “Stop trying to save them all for yourself. His shields were already weak, and he was running. Do you have any idea how hard it is to maintain a shield while you are running?”
“Actually, I do,” laughed Marak, “but I am sure that you do not. Just be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt again.”
“Then use some more of those light blades to soften up another two,” replied the winged warrior. “My claws are itching for more Motangan flesh.”
* * *
“Filthy beast,” swore Pakar as he saw the dragon carry off one of his men and the other fall dead to the roof with a star in his head.
The head mage quickly saw that his position was untenable. They could not stay on the roof and battle magical foes while the dragon attacked at will. Regardless of Vand’s orders, Pakar made the decision to move inside the temple and continue the fighting where the dragon could not go. He shouted orders to his men and began moving slowly towards the entrance to the temple. He would not run and take the chance of his shield failing.
Lyra saw what Pakar had in mind, and she moved slowly to intercept the group. Unfortunately, her movement left Rejji exposed and visible to the mages. One of the mages immediately shouted as his arm rose to strike Rejji down.
“No!” shouted Pakar. “Leave him. He is the one who is not to be harmed. Get inside quickly.”
The Motangan mages raced for the doorway with Pakar in the lead. Xavo and Lady Mystic took advantage of their haste and killed two mages before the rest slipped inside the building. Lyra halted at the doorway and watched as the Motangan mages disappeared around the corner of a corridor. Xavo and Lady Mystic halted alongside Lyra. The Star of Sakova looked at the two with a puzzled expression.
“I am your father,” smiled Xavo, “and this is my friend, Lady Mystic. She is Vand’s daughter.”
Lyra stared at her father’s new body for several moments before her blue cylinder winked out. She stepped away from the doorway and embraced Xavo.
“I don’t care what your name is,” she said lovingly, “nor what you look like. I am glad to see you.”
“And I am awestruck once again by your power,” smiled Xavo. “Did your shield ever weaken at all?”
“Not that I know of,” shrugged Lyra as she turned to Lady Mystic.
Lady Mystic smiled in a friendly manner but did not speak.
“I have heard of your decision to stand against your father,” said the Star of Sakova. “You are a brave woman.”
“Not so brave that I would depend upon shields as the only thing between me and Pakar’s dirty dozen,” replied Lady Mystic. “You must truly trust Kaltara to shield you.”
“My life is in His hands,” smiled Lyra. “He will never let me down. I hope that I do not let Him down.”