“Lucky for us,” Mercedes retorted. “Dragons like to breathe fire when they attack. Turns them into a nice, big target.”
“Yeah? Well, try to make sure it’s Bavasama’s dragons you’re shooting and not ours. We’re going to need them,” I said as we all scurried to the door, still crouched over and keeping our heads low.
“I’ll do my best,” she said when we reached the portal stone. I grabbed her hand with my left and felt Kitsuna grab onto my belt. “Now where do you think we should go?”
“The aerie,” Kitsuna said, her voice high and shaky. “If they’re attacking us at night, they’ll go to the aerie first. Take out our dragons so that they can attack us without worrying about them.”
“Right. Take me to the aerie,” I said, my voice a command, as I brushed my fingers across the stone.
The world shifted apart, and the only thing I could feel was my two friends pressed against me as we were transported. Then the world came back together again, dropping us into the thick grass that surrounded the large stone tower where the dragon clans made their home at the Crystal Palace.
“Where are they?” I asked, turning in a quick circle and looking around before pulling my sword. “Where are the dragon warriors who are supposed to be standing guard?”
“Your Majesty?” Dravak yelled, and I turned to see the boy standing in the doorway of the aerie. “What are you doing here?”
“Where are the rest of the dragon clans?”
“Most of them are on patrol.” Dravak hurried toward us still in human form. “They left me and Tietsen here to guard the aerie and rest our wings after our flight to Dramera while everyone else…”
He looked up, and I let my eyes follow his into the sky. The rest of them were up there while he’d been left on the ground to keep watch, too young to fight. A child caught in a grown-up’s war.
“How many dragons up there are ours?” Mercedes asked as she scanned the dragons darting across the sky, shooting fireballs and screaming as they attacked one another.
“Six,” Dravak said. “Why?”
“Do you keep any bows in the aerie? An armory of sorts?” Mercedes asked.
“Yes.” Dravak nodded quickly, his floppy red hair bouncing in front of his face.
“Good.” Mercedes nodded. “Because I’m going to need a lot more arrows.”
“Right.” Dravak took off at a run as the three of us stood, back-to-back, and stared up at the night sky.
“Here!” he called out a few moments later as he ran toward us, two quivers of arrows in his arms and another slung across his back.
“Thanks,” Mercedes said as she took the arrows from him and dumped them on the ground beside her feet. She dropped to one knee and removed the bow from her back.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” I asked as I pulled my own sword free of its scabbard and clutched it with both hands.
“Don’t worry, Allie, I can do this.”
“Sure you can,” I said, trying to sound supportive instead of scared out of my mind.
“Stay out of the way.” Kitsuna pushed me behind her, one of her own swords clutched in each hand. “Just in case she accidentally shoots one wide. Our best tactic is to stay back and let her shoot them down, and then when they hit the ground, we’ll finish them off.”
“And how are you supposed to tell which dragon is which?” I asked as Mercedes pulled back on her bowstring and aimed.
“Our dragons are big and bulky. Theirs are long and skinny.”
“And that’s how you’re telling them apart? Shoot the skinny ones and let the fat ones go? What if they have fat dragons, too?”
“Okay, so I’m guessing.” Mercedes grunted as she let an arrow loose and a loud shriek filled the night sky.
“Guessing?” I asked.
“If they’re dive bombing the aerie”—Mercedes drew back another arrow and took aim again—“I’m going to assume they aren’t one of ours. How does that sound to you?”
“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed as I scanned the skies above us, looking for where the next attack might come from in the darkness, waiting for Winston and the rest of our warriors to fly to the rescue before we found ourselves in another blaze like the one in the Forest of Ananth this morning.
“Dravak?”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Winston? Where was he on patrol?” I asked.
“He’s part of the squad that flew northward, guarding Lord Rhys’s land near the White Mountains.”
“Good.” I nodded, still keeping my eyes fixed on the skies above us. “Let’s get this mess cleaned up before he gets back.”
“Allie!” I jerked my head down and over to see my father and his men racing into the clearing, Rhys and some of his men behind them.
“We’ve got men surrounding the palace,” Rhys said as he slid to a stop beside me.
There was a dull thwack and then the loud scream of an animal in pain. I turned away from him to see Mercedes still on the ground, another arrow in her bow as a large, red, snake-style dragon crumpled in midair, twisting so that he was facing upward and curling in on himself as he crashed down somewhere in the night.
“Woodsmen!” John snapped. “The dryad appears to have the first kill. Do you intend to let her do this single-handed or do you intend to help?”
Seven men hurried forward, slinging their own bows off their back and hurriedly loading them with arrows before lifting the weapons up and loosing arrows into the sky.
Rhys’s men started to circle the rest of the aerie, their swords drawn. “What’s your plan?” Rhys asked.
“We stay back and try to stay out of the way. If something comes down, and it’s not one of our dragons”—I swallowed—“kill it.”
“We can do that,” Rhys said as he pulled his own sword. “Why don’t you find somewhere safe to hide?”
“When have you ever known me to hide?” I asked. “Besides, this is my castle. I’m not going to run away while a bunch of flying lizards trash the place.”
“No, because running and hiding would have been the sensible things for a queen to do.”
“Oh, shut up, Sullivan. Before I decide to behead you or something.”
Instead of answering, he put his fingers in his mouth and let out a loud whistle that pierced the night. I heard another loud cry after that, this one more of a squawk than a roar as Balmeer—Rhys’s pet roc—flew into the clearing and then landed heavily on his shoulder, his sharp, knifelike talons curling into Rhys shoulder. “If one of those lizards land,” I heard Rhys say quietly to the bird, “do whatever it takes to kill it.”
The heavy, three-foot-tall bird let out a soft cooing sound and shifted on Rhys’s shoulder, Balmeer’s eyes dark and his wings tensed. The roc lifted his head, watching the sky above like he was just waiting for something to fall into his new hunting area.
I heard the stinging slap of Mercedes’s and the Woodsmen’s bows all releasing at the same time and then the sharp shriek of the dragons in the air howling in pain.
“Mercedes got another one,” Kitsuna said. We both watched the bright blue dragon above tearing at its own wing with its teeth, trying to pull the arrow free as it tumbled, end over end, toward us.
“Balmeer,” Rhys said sharply. The bird instantly launched itself upward with a battle cry of sorts.
“Watch out,” one of the soldiers said in warning. “It’s going to land close.”
Close, I thought to myself as the blue dragon Mercedes had wounded crashed into the clearing, was definitely the word for it.
The animal let out a low moan as it hit the dirt, and I felt my entire body trembling as the creature let out a long, low hiss before rolling onto its stomach, struggling to get to its feet.