Logan, meanwhile, slung his hammer overhead and shattered the hackles of the other beast. Enraged, the hyena crashed into him, knocking Logan back. Stony teeth clamped on his breastplate, digging in to gouge Logan's chest. He slammed his hammerhead into the creature's jaw but couldn't break free.
Flinteye kicked it in the throat, and when the hyena staggered back, he grasped its head and twisted to snap its neck.
"Thanks," Logan said.
"Whatever," replied Flinteye, spinning to attack another hyena.
Logan and his charr allies waded through the pack of hyenas. They fanned out through the courtyard and bashed every beast in sight. Hyena cackles gave way to yips and barks and whines. The pack was calling for help. Every last hyena within the fortress converged on the killing ground. Fangs and claws met maces and mauls. Soon, in the bloody midst, only Logan and the charr remained.
Logan sighed, swinging his hammer in long loops to stretch out his shoulders. "Nothing like a good fight to get the cricks out."
"That was nothing like a good fight." Flinteye nodded ahead, where a band of ogres had just staggered into the courtyard. "This will be a good fight."
Logan pivoted toward the ogres and brought his bloodied hammerhead to bounce on his hand.
The ogres' eyes lit with rage, and they thundered forward.
Flinteye roared and charged. He ducked beneath the moaning hammerhead of one ogre and ripped his claws through the back of the monster's thigh. Two loud pops sounded, and the ogre's leg collapsed.
"Look out!" Logan shouted as the ogre toppled toward Flinteye.
The charr rolled away just as the beast crashed down, driving flagstones deeper into the ground.
Logan brought his hammer down to stave in the forehead of the ogre. "That's one for me."
"This is no game, mouse!" Flinteye roared, thumping his chest.
Logan laughed. "You're no Rytlock Brimstone."
"And you're no Blood Legion warrior!"
Logan leaped back as a charr slumped down dead before him. The ogre that had killed the charr reached for Logan.
He wheeled around, his hammer shattering the wrist of the monster.
The ogre staggered back, shaking its hand, and nearly tromped on Flinteye.
Roaring, Flinteye hamstrung the ogre. It fell to its backside, and Flinteye leaped on its chest and ripped out its throat. Clutching the grisly trophy in his claws, he scowled at Logan. "Don't make me clean up after you."
"Look out!" Logan shouted, pointing.
Flinteye never saw the massive cudgel that struck him in the stomach and hurled him through the air. He tumbled across the courtyard, crashed into the wall, and slid down in a heap.
Logan charged the ogre and hammered its left leg. Bones broke, sending the creature to its knees. Then Logan smashed the ogre's jaw. Down it went, rolling belly to face.
Dodging beyond it, Logan ran to the place where Flinteye lay. The old charr's legs and arms were shattered by the impact, but his chest still moved.
"Flinteye!" Logan said.
The charr stared back, blood gurgling from his mouth. "Tell Rytlock… tell him I died fighting." His last breath rattled out of his lungs.
A roar of incoherent rage shook the walls of Ebonhawke. Humans clutched their heads and charr and ogres winced back from battle.
The cry came from Chief Kronon, who stood above the bloodbath with arms outstretched and head thrown back-bellowing. As he brought his head back down, an eerie light shone from his eyes.
"This can't be good," Logan muttered.
Chief Kronon howled again, an otherworldly sound like the cry of the Elder Dragon itself.
That cry was answered by another ogre, and a third and a fourth. All of them were throwing their heads back and bellowing to the sky. Their voices rattled the stones of the keep and made humans and charr drop to their knees. The ogres shuffled toward their chieftain and stood beside him, wailing their lament. The remaining hyenas loped up beside them as well, adding their peculiar cackles to the cacophony.
As the ogres and hyenas filled one side of the courtyard, the humans and charr gathered on the other, all around Logan.
Suddenly, the howling ceased. The crystalline monsters lowered their heads, and their gold-glowing eyes stared levelly across the courtyard. Then they broke into a charge.
Logan raised his hammer and roared, "Charge!" He swept forward, surrounded by humans and charr.
The tide of ogres crashed on the defenders, trampling some, kicking others through the air, crushing more in titanic claws.
A man on one side of Logan fell beneath a stomping foot.
A charr on the other side had his head bitten off.
The clamor of combat, the groans and screams-it was the same as that battle in the Blazeridge Mountains, as Logan and Rytlock fought side by side against ogres.
This time, though, there would be no survivors.
BATTLE OF THE CRYSTAL DESERT
At the center of Glint's sanctuary, Big Snaff stood alone, so there was no one to hear the tinny shout of joy that came from Little Snaff: "She did it! Glint did it! She got the yoke on Kralkatorrik!"
The powerstone laurel on Snaff's head flashed, bathing the cockpit in an eerie glow. Those stones cast an even stranger light into Snaff's mind.
Everything went green-solid green, as if he was staring into an emerald. He could even see his own reflection in a facet of the stone. His face looked intent, squinting, trying to peer into the heart of the gem.
Snaff backed away.
This jewel had many facets, all reflecting his curious gaze.
But it wasn't a jewel. It was an eye-a huge compound eye.
The true eye of Kralkatorrik.
The dragon was staring at him, seeing him in a thousand facets. Its gaze was cold and calculating, inexpressibly cruel.
Then every reflection of Snaff in every facet began to crystallize.
"No!" Snaff yelled.
His flesh hardened, grew rigid and angular.
He was becoming a minion of the Elder Dragon!
Panicked, Snaff thrashed to get away, but the dragon saw all.
Snaff was dying.
Tap… tap… tap…!
What was that sound?
Tap, tap, tap- Was it the stony heart of the dragon, mesmerizing his mind with its monotonous beat?
"Did you call for me?"
His eyes flashed open, and he ripped the emerald laurel from his head. The cockpit was plunged into darkness. Through the windscreen, Snaff saw the concerned face of Big Zojja.
She crouched beside Big Snaff, tapping her finger on the glass. "Helloooooo? You in there?"
"Yes, I'm in here!" Snaff blurted. "Of course I'm in here. There's not an escape hatch." He blinked in sudden alarm. "Why isn't there an escape hatch?"
Big Zojja straightened up, and Little Zojja's voice rang from within. "I thought I heard you shout something, and I wanted to make sure everything was all right."
"I'm trying to wrestle a dragon's mind! Of course everything's not all right!"
"Don't get testy. I was just checking on you."
"Go guard." Snaff said, waving his hand vaguely toward the eastern colonnade. "I'll be safe. I'll be fine."
"Better be," she said, and Big Zojja pivoted away, her foot grinding grit into the floor.
Snaff watched that miracle in steel and silver-that genius apprentice of his-jog away through the sanctum. "You be safe, too."
And then Snaff closed his eyes and lifted the emerald laurel to his head and sought out the mind of the dragon.
It was not hard to find.
The dragon's eye was seeking him.
Its mind was in every facet.
As Big Zojja stood in the eastern colonnade, inside the cockpit, Little Zojja wondered if she or any of her friends would survive this day. They had fought dragon champions, yes, but never dragons, let alone Elder Dragons. And nobody in the history of history had ever tried to take hold of an Elder Dragon's mind.