The villagers, watching through shuttered windows, trembled. Brianna ducked her head and felt the shock of fear from all the dragons run through her mind. Lightning was the one thing that dragons feared, but there had been no foul weather in the area, only puffy clouds gliding silently on the wind.
“Flee!” she shouted, pushing the mental thought out with force.
Bartoom crashed to the earth at the base of the hill, but the force of the impact shook the ground and collapsed another wall. Gyia had released the black dragon, who was bleeding, it’s wounded wing now in tatters, although the bone wasn’t broken. Selix had flown wide of the battle to avoid the lightning, but Gyia, close to the ground, was climbing slowly back into the air, an easy target.
Brianna pushed a thought toward Gyia and the purple dragon obeyed instantly, diving back toward Bartoom. Lightning struck nearby, but Offendorl couldn’t risk hitting Bartoom, giving Gyia the time it needed to gain speed and altitude. Brianna had healed Tig’s broken wing, but not the dragon’s wounded leg. Still, she sent it flying, low, away from the battle. Then she ran to the pile of stones covering Ferno. She could sense the dragon beneath the rubble. It was alive, but only barely-so many of its bones were shattered that it was only a matter of time before the beast’s heart gave out. Brianna jumped high into the air, her body exploding into flame, her clothes incinerating instantly, and she dove into the pile of rocks, which melted like candle wax before her. The mountain of stones covering Ferno glimmered, then glowed with heat before streaming away from the dragon like a lava flow.
Brianna poured healing fire into the dragon. It wasn’t a technical process, unlike Zollin’s magical healing, which was precise and driven by his knowledge of anatomy. Brianna’s magic was more a force of will. She was like a small star-the heat from her healing powers even melted the ground beneath them. The castle’s foundation had been built from huge stones, expertly laid on the bedrock of the hill, but the stones melted into a pool of molten rock.
Offendorl was trying desperately to hit Gyia with lightning, the sky crackling with electricity and thunder claps making the ground shudder. The elder wizard didn’t see Selix returning to the fight. The golden dragon roared as it breathed fire onto the inn where it sensed the magic of Offendorl. The fire tore through the small structure’s roof and poured into building, setting it ablaze instantly. Offendorl had just enough time to surround himself and the young woman who had served him so faithfully since he’d arrived at her village and humiliated her husband. Fire raged around them and she dropped the wine she had been holding for him and clung to his ancient body, but the heat and flames were held at bay by the shield spell.
“Flee!” Brianna ordered again, sending the mental order out to Gyia and Selix.
Bartoom was roaring in pain and Ferno was just coming to when Selix sent Brianna the mental image of Offendorl escaping from the inn. The lightning that had been pursing Gyia had ceased, but Brianna knew it was only a matter of time before another of her pride was killed. Selix circled in the air, golden scales glimmering brightly in the light from the fire that was consuming the village inn. Offendorl was holding one hand up, palm out toward Selix, who was diving back toward the wizard, swaying from side to side to avoid being an easy target for the elder wizard’s magic. In his other hand he clutched the golden crown to his side.
Lightning struck again-this time it was wide of Selix, but sent the dragon careening away from Offendorl. The lighting hit another of the buildings in the village, which exploded under the force and set several other buildings ablaze.
Brianna swam up out of the pool of molten rock, followed closely by Ferno. The green dragon took to the air while Brianna ran to the edge of the hill and jumped off. The hill wasn’t extremely steep, but it gave Brianna enough air to rise up on a wave of heat from behind her, and then dive down toward Offendorl. She was like a fiery comet, streaking through the air almost too fast to keep up with, her body covered in flames.
The Master of the Torr turned just in time, throwing up a magical barrier that Brianna crashed into. She felt searing pain as her shoulder was knocked out of socket, but Offendorl and the woman were sent sprawling on the ground from the force of the impact. Brianna rolled to her feet, holding her injured arm to her body and blinking away the tears that blurred her vision. She was just about to send a gout of fire at Offendorl when Bartoom crawled between them. Brianna hesitated as the dragon roared at her.
“No!” she screamed. “Move aside.”
Bartoom stood resolute as an image flashed into Brianna’s mind of Selix diving for her. She jumped into the air and felt Selix’s tail wrap around her as the great golden dragon swooped upward. Brianna watched as Offendorl put the golden crown on his head and then pointed at her. Bartoom, wounded and in pain, flapped its good wing and slowly clawed its way into the air.
She guessed the crown had to do with how Offendorl enslaved the black dragon, but she had no more time to ponder the situation, as the lightning began to slash down at them.
Her shoulder was aching and her vision grew blurry as Selix zigged and zagged through the night sky. They soon outpaced the wizard’s reach, and as Brianna looked up just before she passed out from pain and fatigue, she saw Bartoom lumbering after them.
Chapter 22
It was well past noon before King Zorlan ordered his troops forward. Prince Wilam’s patience was wearing thin and his men had long before grown restless. Trumpets braying across the field of battle alerted them all to the invading army’s approach. They could see the foot soldiers moving forward, with the cavalry taking a position to the rear. The horse soldiers were armed for battle, but stayed in reserve. Wilam guessed that King Zorlan expected his line to break, creating an opening that his cavalry could exploit.
Scouts reported positions as the army moved closer. So far, none of King Zorlan’s forces had made a move that Prince Wilam wasn’t expecting. He had a full legion of foot soldiers held in reserve, and the rest spread across the field, forming a shield wall that was four men deep. They had been lounging in the sun, using their shields to keep from baking in the heat. Now they were on their feet and Wilam knew that when he gave the order they would lock their shields together, using short swords to hack beneath the shields, the men behind using their weapons to reach over the shoulders of their comrades to slash and stab. It was an age-old tactic that was ruthlessly efficient against the Skellmarians, and, Wilam had learned, the Norsik, who attacked Ortis regularly through the Wilderlands. But if Zorlan’s forces were well disciplined, two shield walls could fight for hours and accomplish very little.
The thought crossed Prince Wilam’s mind that perhaps Zorlan wasn’t hesitant. Perhaps he was just allowing his troops time to rest so that they would be ready for a long battle, while his troops languished through a restless night and then waited through a large part of the day in the blistering heat of the sun. It was a wily strategy, but Wilam had a few tricks up his sleeve as well.
“Loose the fire arrows,” he ordered.
The archers on the platform with Wilam lit arrows that had been soaked in oil. The oil made the arrows burn and produced black smoke. The archers had to lean out over the guardrail in order to shoot the arrows high up into the air. The awning over the platform extended several feet beyond the platform to give it the maximum protection from falling projectiles. Six arrows arced through the sky, leaving a trail of greasy, black smoke behind them.
The invading soldiers faltered in their march when they saw the fire arrows. They expected the battlefield to be soaked with oil, creating a barrier of flame between the two armies, but the arrows fell harmlessly into the open field. Prince Wilam was left to wait once more. The invading army was moving slowly, conserving their energy, and King Zorlan’s cavalry had not yet moved into position.