by JA Andrews
Will glanced at Sini. “Talen didn’t see any sign of Lukas.”
“Has anyone reported seeing a dragon?” Alaric asked the general.
“Thankfully no,” the general answered. “We have rangers in the hills to the south, but they’ve seen nothing. We’ve been expecting Lukas and the beast, but we haven’t seen any sign of either.” He motioned to the mouth of the valley the enemy troops had emerged from. “It’s possible he’s in that valley, but I don’t know why he’d keep the dragon out of the fight.”
“His dragon can’t fly particularly well right now.” Will grinned. “I don’t think he’s up for a battle.” He ran a finger down Talen’s chest. “Why don’t you see what’s in that valley? But stay high above the ground.” Talen burst off his arm and shot high in the air, angling toward the valley.
The general watched him soar away. “I don’t suppose you could teach someone else to do…whatever you’re doing with that bird?” Will shook his head and the general turned his attention back to the field, folding his arms across his chest. “That’s good news about the dragon. I think our lines should hold. Especially after the third battalion arrives—”
Horns rang out from the enemy lines, and a low rumble rolled across the plain as the attacking armies marched forward. Sini’s heart pounded at the noise. Queensland’s forces were still reorganizing, but the field was wide and it seemed to take ages for the army to cross. They came unrelentingly forward as Queensland’s forces hurried into place along the line.
The armies finally joined with with the grinding of metal striking metal. Sini stood with her fists clenched at her stomach, watching as soldiers from both sides fell. Cries of the battle and cries of pain echoed across the river and. The soldiers moved like a flock of birds, like leaves floating on the water. Pushing forward, sliding back, drifting toward one side.
The invading armies edged forward, focusing their attack on the gap.
Slowly the city guard was pushed back.
A distant horn blast rang out from the north. The third battalion streamed into view over a hill near the river in three long lines. Matching horn calls sounded from the battalions already embroiled in the fight, and the general gave an approving grunt.
A ripple went through the invading forces at the arrival of the new troops and they reformed into lines. A trail of Queensland’s wounded began to file from the battlefield across the bridge to a field hospital that had been set up below the command tents, and Sini took a bracing breath. Here was something she could do. Cold fear gripped her at the idea, but at that moment a soldier let out a cry of pain as he was lowered to the ground. His side was red with blood and his face pale.
She forced herself to turn to Alaric. “I can help in the hospital.”
He glanced toward the growing line of wounded and nodded. “Don’t go any further than that. If we find Lukas, we’ll need you.”
“I’ll take you,” Roan said. “I’m going to the battlefield. If my father isn’t going to bother to even be out of the hold, someone needs to keep track of Greentree’s troops.”
Sora had donned a tunic with Greentree’s colors and the three of them started down the hill. The thought of Roan and Sora going into battle made Sini’s gut clench even harder than it had been before.
When they reached the hospital Roan bid her to be careful, and he and Sora headed toward the river. The fighting was still far from the edge of the bridge, but she watched them go with a knot in her stomach.
When she stepped between the first two injured men, everything but her sympathy disappeared. One soldier’s leg was covered in blood, the other had a deep gash in his head that ran all the way to his cheek his cheek. Sini sank down next to a woman cleaning the injured leg with water. As soon as the wound was clean, Sini set her hand on his leg. She cast out, finding the edges of the deep cut. Reaching up for the sunfire that streamed through the clouds, she began to knit the wound back together, repairing the worst of the damage. Not wasting time to close up the now more superficial cut, she turned to the man with the head wound. The nurse beside her was staring at the leg Sini had just healed, and Sini gave her a small smile. “You clean the wounds, and I’ll heal them.” The woman’s mouth dropped open, but she nodded quickly.
The cut on the man’s face had spread apart and she could see the white of bone once the nurse cleaned it. Sini grit her teeth against the brutality of it and set both hands on his head, funneling sunfire into him, healing the deepest parts, covering the bone, knitting the flesh back together. The sunfire began to warm her, running through her arms like liquid heat.
She ignored it, moving to the next soldier. This one’s gut was pierced and the nurse, after hovering over him for a moment, shook her head and moved on. Sini cast out, but the man’s body was lifeless.
More and more injuries came back from the field and Sini moved down the line with the nurse. Soldier after soldier. Wound after wound. At first she searched each new face to make sure it wasn’t a friend, but soon they began to blur together. Her hands turned red and slick with blood; the front of her robe grew damp with it.
Her back ached from bending over the wounded. Her legs were tired, her hands cold and wet. The sunfire didn’t hurt, and it didn’t wear her out to use it, but she began to slow anyway.
Word of what she was doing spread through the field hospital. She caught whispers of her name.
“A Keeper…Keeper Sini…the woman Keeper…”
The other healers began to prioritize for her, cleaning and preparing the worst wounds for her to work on. They passed by still bodies and her heart broke each time. The sunfire poured through her. She could feel the draw of it, the glorious goodness of the light—the wholeness of it in such opposition to the violence and death that lay before her.
Kneeling next to one man, fatigue and hopelessness rolled over her. For every man she helped, two more came. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth fill her. She could go with it, leave these horrors.
But the smell of the blood and the filth of the hospital brought her back. She forced herself to focus on the wounds. The moans of the men tore at her and she shoved away the call of the light. It could heal these men, and she was not going to let it stop her.
The light kept up its sweet, glorious call, but the face of the next soldier drew her on.
There was too much suffering here, too much she could do. She felt the echo of Chesavia’s words.
…there were things still to be done, and I knew I must stay.
And so she worked. The power to resist the sunfire was obvious at last. The needs before her trumped any relief she could seek for herself. The sunfire was a tool. It flowed through her, healing the worst of the wounds if she got to them in time. The goodness of the light, even in its vastness, settled into something familiar, something she’d known her whole life. The call was still there, but she was able to see it and turn away. She called upon more sunfire than she ever had, and, in the midst of the death and blood, felt a new strength growing, a new confidence.
The sun began to drop toward the west and despite her increasing weariness, a sense of urgency grew. Once night fell she’d have nothing to offer these men. The moonlight would never be strong enough.
The only good thing about the night coming was that the fighting would stop. She cast glances into the field, wondering if Queensland could hold their ground. She looked for signs of Sora or Roan, but there was no way to pick them out from the chaos. As time went on, another worry nagged her. There had still been no sign of Lukas, and she began to fear he wouldn’t appear during daylight. She glanced up at the sun. Without sunfire, she’d never be able to destroy the sword.
A different sort of horn echoed across the flatland. Sini’s attention snapped to the field. That hadn’t come from the enemy forces. It had been further away. The field seemed to hold its breath for a heartbeat. Then the horn sounded again, from across to the west at the mouth of the Scale Mountains.
Horses poured out of one of the thin
valleys. Hundreds and hundreds of mounted Roven warriors poured onto the field and galloped toward the westernmost troops of Marshwell. The troops from Napon and Baylon attacked with renewed fury. Queensland’s troops scrambled to face them, funneling more troops west to help stop the Roven without depleting the defenses at the bridge and across the gap.
Roan ran up from the bridge. “Come with me to the hold!” he called.
“Not while there’s light!”
He came up to her and lowered his voice. “If those troops break through the line they’ll be across the bridge in moments.”
She glanced across the water. “If they get close to breaking through the line,” she agreed, “I’ll come to the fort.”
“Sini, please.”
“Not while there’s light,” she repeated firmly. “Where’s Sora?”
He glanced at Greentree’s lines across the river. “With the second unit. But something’s wrong.” His voice was even lower. “Greentree’s army has five units. Only three of them are on the field.”
She glanced up at him. “Where are the rest?”
“I have no idea. I assume my father is saving them for something, but we need them now. Since he seems to be hiding in the hold, I’m going to find him. Please come somewhere safer.”
“When the sun sets. But not before.”
He clenched his jaw but nodded. “Be careful.”
Sini stood and looked out across the field. The Roven warriors cut across the field like wild men, their long swords glinting in the cloudy afternoon, their calls making her flinch. For a moment she searched the flags of the Roven for the Morrow’s colors, paralyzed at the idea that she might know some of them.
A groan next to her brought her back to herself. She swallowed down a terrible dread. Lukas had everything he’d claimed. Armies from Coastal Baylon, Napon, and the Sweep. His soldiers outnumbered their own now.
She glanced involuntary into the sky. At least Anguine was too wounded to fight. The last thing this battle needed was a healthy dragon.
There was still no sign of Lukas on the field, or anyone who seemed to be directing all three armies. She began to think maybe Anguine hadn’t even been strong enough to get Lukas back here.
The man next to her called her name softly and she knelt down next to him, setting her hand next to a wound that slashed across his ribs. Her hand felt heavy. She’d been with the wounded for hours. She cast glances over her shoulder at the battlefield. There was too much chaos to tell who was winning. The troops near the bridge held strong, so she continued her work, funneling the sunfire down into the bodies before her, healing wound after wound.
The sun sank lower and Queensland’s line near the gap started to falter. Sini’s anxiety swelled as the day grew old. The sunlight would fade soon, the wounded kept coming, and the grey of the city guard was pushed back slowly, inevitably.
The first Naponese warrior cut through the line and her hand flew to her mouth. Three more surged through and the city guard was cut in two. Horns sounded, calling for reinforcements that were too tied down to come.
Sini stood at the edge of the line of wounded, her hands pressed to her chest, staring across the river as Queensland’s line broke in two.
Suddenly a rumbling sounded on the hillside bordering the gap. From behind a rocky outcropping a stocky figure in dark metal armor appeared, bellowing and running down the slope toward the invaders.
The Naponese soldiers stopped at the sight of the dwarf. Another one rounded the boulder, and another. Dozens of dwarves came into view, streaming down the hillside hoisting axes and crying out in deep voices. They cut into the Naponese forces and pushed them back, plugging up the hole in the line of the guard and shoving the invaders back onto the field where they’d began.
Sini threw up her arms and cheered. Above her on the slope she heard Douglon bellow something in dwarvish as he raced down the hill toward the bridge. Avina stood on the outcropping where she and Douglon had been keeping watch like a blazing copper torch, leaping and shouting in victory.
The sun was lower. Sini could see a bright spot behind the clouds, but she had much less than an hour before the sun would be gone. She looked around her at the rows of the wounded and her heart sank. She needed more time. Pushing back panic that more wounded would come that she wouldn’t be able to help, she knelt down and got back to work.
Until she heard the first shouts.
They weren’t war cries or cries of pain. These were pure fear.
She spun around. A ripple ran through the troops and they turned to face the mountains along the southern border.
Against the grey clouds, two dragons spread their wings and shrieked before plummeting toward the bridge.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Dragons!
Two of them—and neither was red.
They glittered with color in the grey afternoon light. One dark green, one sapphire blue. Sini’s chest tightened in fear, but something about them was off, as though they were farther away than they looked.
They drew closer, letting out spine-scraping shrieks. They weren’t far away, they were small—a third of the size of Anguine.
The truth hit her like a punch in the gut. Young dragons.
Lukas had young dragons.
The green one soared past, banking and spreading it’s wings like a glittering emerald bat. She caught flashes of light blue dotting its neck.
Compulsion stones.
That’s what Anguine wanted. He served Lukas because Lukas controlled two immature dragons.
The blue dragon dove toward the bridge and Sini braced to see flames shoot out over Greentree’s troops. Instead it darted down over the men, who threw themselves to the ground. The creature might be smaller than Anguine, but it was still twice as long as a man, its wingspan wider than the bridge. It might not be a full-grown dragon, but it was still terrifying. Green claws reached into the crowd and snatched up a soldier. The talons pierced his armor, digging into his flesh as he was lifted over the army and flung screaming into the river.
Arrows shot out from the troops, bouncing harmlessly off glittering scales.
The green dragon plummeted again into the men and dwarves filling the gap, and Sini shrank back. It slashed at them, dragged them into the air and flung them down, breaking their bodies on the earth.
A dwarven axe hurled at the creature deflected off its wing. The dragon reeled to the side, but recovered quickly and dove back into the fray.
The enemy soldiers took advantage of the chaos and pushed forward again. The line near the bridge wavered as it faced both the surge of enemies and the dragon. The Roven kept eating away at the western flank, pushing ever closer to the river.
Sini stood frozen, watching the soldiers of Queensland attempt to hold their lines.
The blue dragon wheeled up into the air and she caught a ripple of lighter blue along its neck. More compulsion stones.
The implications hit her. Lukas could control what the dragons did as long as he was close.
Lukas was here.
She spun, searching the edges of the battlefield, scanning the flatland behind the approaching army. Where was he? She swallowed down a knot of dread. He had every army he’d claimed. He had more dragons. She clenched her jaw. All that was left for him to use was the black sword.
Two soldiers ran up the hill, carrying another whose shoulder had been torn open by the dragon’s claws, and Sini pulled her attention away from the field. There wasn’t much sunlight left.
The men put down their wounded friend and she grabbed one of them with her blood covered hand. “Get to the command tent now! Tell Keeper Will that Lukas is nearby.”
The man’s attention caught on her black robe and he snapped off a nod before running up the hill.
Sini knelt down next to the soldier with the torn shoulder and closed her eyes, blocking out the chaos and focusing the light. The cut was deep and clean. She shuddered at how sharp the dragon’s claws must be.
F
rom the battlefield the shrieks of the dragons mingled with the cries of men and her heart sank. The dragons had turned the tide. The sun was near the tops of the mountains, but Queensland’s troops wouldn’t hold until darkness forced the invaders to pull back.
Avina screeched something, still standing on an outcropping of rock. The elf stared across the river, past the fighting dwarves to the hillside above the gap. Her little hands fisted at her side and she raised her voice in a long, high call.
It echoed back, slightly different.
Even from where she knelt, Sini could see Avina grin. Her teeth lengthened into long spikes. Flinging herself off the rock, she raced down the hill. She sprang onto the rail of the bridge, her feet barely touching the wood as she sprinted into the chaos.
New calls rang out from the hillside. High and bright, filled with a fierce fury.
Glints of color moved in the treetops on the hillside. A flash of silver tore out of the edges of the trees and sprinted down the slope. Sini jumped to her feet.
An elf!
Another dove out of the trees, this one glimmering purple. With screeches and cries, elves poured out of the trees like a wave of jewels spilling down into the battle.
Avina’s copper head appeared above the soldiers. Sini took a step closer. Douglon held the little elf up as the green dragon pelted toward them again. It was almost upon them when Douglon hurled Avina up into the air. She screamed, and Sini could have sworn her fingers stretched into long claws.
The elf clenched onto the dragon’s neck, swinging herself onto it and shimmying up toward its head. The dragon thrashed and flew over the water, heading toward the hospital. Avina held up one hand and a ball of flame appeared between her clawed fingers. With a cry she slammed the fireball into the dragon’s face.
The green dragon twisted away from the flames and careened toward the water, its wing beats turning into frantic attempts to escape upriver.
The battle had paused as everyone—human and dwarf—stared at the elfling and the dragon.
With a shout, the other elves started hurling fireballs into the enemy line, and the sounds of battle resumed.
