Japheth fumed. That witch had to die! He let go of the ropes and picked at the wet knot that fastened the bridge to a post on the ark’s parapet, pulling away thread after thread.
Thigocia spewed a twisting line of fire that snaked between Morgan and Japheth. She growled her words. “Give me Makaidos or my next breath turns your wife into a tallow candle!”
Samyaza waved a hand at Morgan. “Do you think I cannot find another dark-hearted wench to do my bidding? Go ahead and lick her with fire from head to toe. I’m not giving up my scaly prize so easily.”
Japheth gouged out a thick strand, loosening the knot. In just seconds, the bridge would collapse.
Morgan picked up the sword and inched her way toward the land side of the bridge. “Samyaza!” she shouted through the windswept rain. “I have learned the secret of the sword’s fire. If I burn, the secret dies with me.”
Japheth pressed his lips together and gave the knot a final pull. “Got it!” The rope slipped away from the ark. One edge of the bridge gave way, and Morgan tipped toward the trench. In a flash of light and black wings, Samyaza dropped Makaidos and caught Morgan in his massive arms. The demon landed next to the tree again, his body glowing red as he snatched the sword from his wife.
Morgan placed her palms on Samyaza’s cheeks, and her hands lit up like a pair of fiery tongs. The demon’s scarlet glow seemed to radiate into Morgan’s body as though he were bleeding into her fingertips. When he faded to a pale pink, Morgan released him, her own reddish tint seeming to energize her as Samyaza’s wobbling frame slowly shrank.
As the demon set her on the ground, Morgan’s skin returned to normal. She stood straight and set her fists on her hips, while Samyaza looked at her stupidly.
Japheth whispered to Thigocia. “The battle’s over! Get him! And get that sword, too. It must be a powerful weapon.”
Thigocia leaped over the side of the ark, her wings instantly whipping her body into a scaly, fire-blasting rocket. Dodging a sycamore tree, she blew a scorching wave of flames that flew inches above the demon’s head. She snatched the sword out of his hands with her teeth and slapped his face with her tail as she zoomed past.
Samyaza’s eyes darkened to pitch black. He toppled over, knocking Morgan down and pinning her. Thigocia arched in a wide circle, swinging around for another attack.
A loud roar sounded from above. Ten Watchers swooped toward the ground. One dragon after another darted out of the clouds, at least eight fire-breathers zooming in single-file pursuit of the demons.
Japheth clutched his ribs. All-out war was upon them, the great flood was at hand, and he could barely move! What could he possibly do to stop this catastrophe?
Feeling the bulge in his tunic, he pulled out Methuselah’s Ovulum. Maybe it could help. It had power of some kind. But what?
Chapter 3
The largest of the arriving Watchers, a square-jawed giant with red wings, landed next to Samyaza. “Make a barrier!” he bellowed. As the demons formed a ring around their fallen leader, Thigocia dropped the sword to the ark’s deck, completed her turn, and flew in tight ellipses, widening her orbit as she maneuvered nearer Makaidos, who lay motionless outside the demonic circle.
The other dragons attacked, blasting streaks of white-hot flames. The Watchers parried by shooting bolts of darkness from their eyes, keeping the dragons at bay. A huge, axe-wielding human stepped into the sycamore glade. Another followed him, a scar-faced man with battle leather strapped across his torso and a club in each hand. A third, the tallest yet, his head reaching the shoulder of the biggest Watcher, tromped into view carrying a long spear. He knelt at Morgan’s side and helped her to her feet.
Thigocia shuddered. Nephilim! She had to grab Makaidos before it was too late! Shooting a wall of fire for cover, she zoomed past the Watchers and Nephilim, latched onto Makaidos with her claws, and dragged him to the edge of the trench. She jerked back around, beating the wet air with her wings to keep her balance. The scene behind her was a blur of fire, steam, and black streaks dragons, Watchers, and giants in deadly conflict. One of the streaks shot past her head, barely missing her ear. Letting out a low groan, she adjusted her grip on Makaidos’s body. She had to get him to the ark, but how could she possibly carry him over the gap?
A dragon burst out of the melee Arramos, glowing hot with splashes of black goo speckling his red scales. He landed next to Thigocia, panting. “You take his neck. . and I will take. . his hind quarters.” Arramos gripped his son’s tail and a back leg with his claws. “Now!” he ordered.
Thigocia shoved her claws under Makaidos’s shoulder and draped his neck over her own. Gripping as much of his body as she could, she flapped her wings with all her might. They slowly lifted off the ground, Arramos taking the unprotected rear position as they inched toward the ark.
A black streak splattered against Arramos’s side. Another slapped him in the face. The two dragons pushed forward, beating the air and scattering thousands of water droplets. As they crested the side of the ark, Japheth, clutching his ribs with one arm, guided them to a clear spot on the deck. Shem burst from Adam’s Door, and the two humans, dodging flapping wings and swinging tails, helped the dragons gently lower the wounded body to the planks.
When all three dragons finally rested on the deck, Arramos bent over Makaidos, aiming his eyebeams at his son’s glazed pupils. “He is alive. . but barely. Thigocia, your mother was a healer. It is time to learn whether or not you inherited her gift.”
“Should I just do what she always did?” she asked.
“Yes. Cover Makaidos with your wings and body. Quickly, now! There is no time to lose.”
Thigocia crawled over Makaidos’s body and lay on top of him, stretching her wings to cover as many of his scales as she could. Arramos breathed a low-power stream of fire at Thigocia’s tail, then at her wings, flanks, and back, until her scales glowed with a tawny-orange hue. Warmth radiated around her body, spreading through her wings and into Makaidos.
As the process continued, Thigocia kept an eye on the battle. The dark streaks now outnumbered the streams of fire, and blackened dragon bodies littered the battlefield, lying strewn on the ground as if draped by sooty quilts. Several Watchers lay among them, some writhing, some motionless. Two of the giants smoldered in a heap, but the largest Naphil stood erect, shaking his spear in the air.
Morgan walked out of the fog. As Watchers and Nephilim gathered around her, she marched toward the ark, lifting her purple-stained palm into the air. A shimmering field of sparks formed around the evil group. When the sparks clustered, a lightning bolt shot toward the ark. The bolt missed wide to the right, but the sparks reassembled, as if recharging after the first volley.
Shem pulled a sling and a stone from his pocket, spun the sling over his head, and hurled the stone at Morgan, but it bounced off her shield and tumbled to the ground. As he set a larger stone in the sling, Japheth grabbed his arm and held up the egg-like orb. “If we could figure out how to use this, maybe we’d stand a chance.”
Arramos snuffed his flames. “The Ovulum!” He nodded at Thigocia. “Stay on him. When your glow fades, you may get up.” He lumbered toward the humans. “Speak to the Eye of the Oracle,” he said. “He will give you guidance.”
Japheth laid the Ovulum in his palm. “You mean talk to the egg?”
“Exactly. I do not know who or what resides there, but I have seen the Oracle speak to it with reverence.”