Dragonfly Ignited

by Aimee Moore

  “Put me down!” I snarled, punching at him.

  Dal ignored me, carrying me as he ran behind the Warlord, striding over the corpses of human soldiers who were staring ahead, unseeing, mouths agape in terror. The smell of burnt flesh and hair attacked my nose, and nausea choked me as I watched the sea of death in the wake of Dal's great strides.

  I turned my attention to Dal's body, his sides heaving, and noticed the arrow tip sticking out of his side, the fletched end protruding out of his stomach. I sent my flame to the metal of the arrowhead and it became orange liquid in moments, bouncing off Dal's boots as he ran, leaving only the shaft sticking out.

  “Pull the arrow out,” I called over the thundering of our group.

  Dal ignored me, his breath coming in great bursts as he ran.

  “Pull the arrow out you stubborn Kraw!” I yelled at him.

  Still, he ignored me. The other Kraw wore their arrows, too, broken off so that stumps of wood protruded from their flesh.

  When we came upon more humans, Dal set me down against the wall with fast, graceful movements. His gaze brushed mine in a wordless caress, and then he turned to the battle. I braced myself against the wall, sword drawn, and yelled as rage consumed me. Yelled at Dal. Yelled at this stupid war. Yelled at my useless foot. No one heard me, no one glanced toward the small female bedecked in Kraw war attire at the back of the fray.

  And it wasn't good enough for me. My foot throbbed, my legs were still shooting pain up into my ribs. I didn't care. I would go down swinging. I raised my palm and set fire to anything that looked hostile, but the six Kraw I was with were more than capable of taking out a multitude of human soldiers as if they were slicing through paper dolls.

  Soon enough, the humans were dispatched, and our party hurried forward, me slung onto Dal's back. A great rumbling sounded down the stone hall, and our Dagger group halted. Vibrations snaked up Dal's legs to rattle my bones, and the Kraw around me tensed as a great cloud of dust rushed around the bend, blasting toward us like a tsunami. The dust blew past us, harmless, if not agitating, and nothing more.

  The Warlord laughed and began forward again, but Dal bellowed, “Wait!”

  The Dagger in Shadow paused, turning to him, and just as they did, a great rumbling sound roared down the hall, getting louder and louder. As all eyes turned toward it, a great sea of earthen spikes rounded the wide corner, fast, lethal, impenetrable, devastating.

  With a gasp, I lifted my palm and summoned every ounce of my gift that writhed within me. Dozens of Kraw-sized horses of pure flame poured from my palm, roaring neighs of fire that rent the air with heat as they reared and charged toward the earthen spikes with the great beat of flaming hooves.

  They blasted forward, their fiery manes and tails feathering behind them, and time stilled as they tossed their flaming heads back and crashed through the tsunami of impending doom, spikes crumbling, flames licking the walls and floor, the horses trampling the earthen council member's gift with hot brutality. My gasp was but a whisper in time as I beheld the great power of my gift, the horses of flame churning charred dust beneath their flaming hooves as they passed through.

  The Warlord raised his swords and bellowed down the hall after my flaming stampede, charging forward. The other Kraw with us did the same, following, and we advanced in the hot, dusty wake of my flaming horses as they burst through charging wall after charging wall of spikes.

  Soon the earthen spikes stopped, and my horses charged off, whinnying and tossing their flaming heads into the distance, their fiery tails disappearing behind a corner until I let go of my gift, snuffing them.

  Dal fell behind the group, putting us last so that the rest of the Dagger in Shadow would take any more damage coming our way. Always protecting me. But what we did not expect was a wall of water spanning the massive hallway. The Kraw all came to a stop at the solid sheet of water before us, as if it were a massive glass window instead of merely water. The Warlord roared, turning to the Dagger group.

  “Break it,” he snarled.

  One of our group charged the wall, ax raised, large canines revealed in a feral snarl. Just as he hit the wall, I noticed Sol Creljin and Mindrik behind the wall, weaving their hands about in the same orchestrated pattern. The Kraw that hit the wall was absorbed, sucked into it, and his ax clanged to the floor as he was drawn into the water. We watched as he kicked and punched and struggled, but to no avail, he was drowning.

  “No,” I breathed. I shot my hand out, trying to burn away the water, do anything I could think of. I only heated the water, and the Kraw's screams intensified.

  “No!” I shouted.

  “Through it, Sera!” Dal yelled.

  I didn't know what to do. Through it? How? Dal sat me down, steadying me. Time was running out, the Kraw would tire soon. The wall of water began to move toward us, pushing us back.

  “Do something, you fools,” the Warlord snarled.

  Another of our group drew a long spear off of his back and hoisted it through the water, toward the two Gifted on the other side. The water weighed down the spear, subverting what would have been a perfect hit.

  Then I knew.

  I waved my palms in a methodical rhythm, drawing both hands apart, stringing fire between them as if it were a bow string. I made a javelin of fire, and without thinking about the consequences, I grabbed it and threw it to the Kraw who had thrown the spear.

  “This!” I yelled as I threw.

  He caught it midair, spun around on a roar of pain, keeping the momentum, and chucked the spear through the wall of water. The spear sizzled through the barrier, steam rising at its entry point as it continued its strong path straight through Sol Creljin's chest.

  Sol Creljin staggered just as the wall of water lost shape and plummeted toward the stone floor along with its creator. Mindrik dropped his hands and sunk next to his mentor before the wall of water had even hit the floor. A great mass of water crashed to the ground in waves, washing over us like a tsunami, and the Kraw who had been trapped in the water sloshed toward us. The Warlord leaped over the Kraw's lifeless body, swords drawn, rushing toward Mindrik, who looked up with wide eyes and scrambled to his feet.

  Dal hoisted me up as the water and drowned Kraw rushed past our knees, and followed in the Warlord's footsteps, chasing down the scrawny man in blue robes.

  Mindrik threw water behind him, hitting his mark time and again with boiling globs of water. The five Kraw remaining with me grunted when they were hit with it, Dal letting off a snarl as the boiling water connected with his forearm and burnt him before falling away. Mindrik landed a steaming glob of water the size of a potato sack on the javelin thrower's head. Bubbles issued forth from his mouth and he clawed at the water with his charred javelin hand before he dropped to the ground and twitched, the water rushing away to leave behind a cooked head.

  “Mindrik!” I yelled, throwing flame at Mindrik, the man who had once been my friend. I missed his scrawny form time and again, and just when I thought I'd hit him on the next round, darkness surrounded us completely, only the flapping of Mindrik's wet robes could be heard getting quieter as he disappeared down the hallway.

  Dal stilled instantly, the force of my body's momentum crushing against his arms. All of the Kraw had stopped, as if on instinct in the darkness, not a breath or a rustle sounded near us. Only the dripping of wet clothing and hair.

  A sultry laugh sounded through the inky blackness. “Your distraction was amusing. But now the fun is over. Your army will die with you, and all that will be left of you is the vague recollection of failed invaders, seeking to take what is not theirs.”

  “She dies first,” I said, bringing balls of fire to life in front of us. They lit the massive tunnel, bobbing around like obedient torches. The Warlord glanced at me with a wry grin that could almost be construed as respect, and we marched forward, Dal's broad hands giving my legs a firm squeeze. A wordless commendation.

  Sol Crepuskar's voice echoed through the darkness again, a mus
ical taunting to the beat of four sets of Kraw boots. “Only death awaits you, should you go further. There is no shame in admitting defeat, in realizing the error of your ways and turning back. A quick death is mercy. We are a civil people; we will grant you that mercy.”

  Ahead of us the balls of flame illuminated the grand doors that Dal had opened at least thrice already. Now the runed doors stood open wide, as if in mocking welcome to our invading party. The purple glow of the leyline painted the stones in the hallway, bathing our faces and clothing in its eerie light.

  Dal set me down on my one good foot as we beheld the remaining three council members within the leyline room. Their robes of red, brown, black, and Mindrik in blue, waved about their forms as if caught in a windstorm. Together they stood on the platform at the edge of the leyline, arcs of purple spanning between them as their hair and clothing whipped about.

  “Do not enter that space,” Dal whispered.

  “You can’t hold me back,” I said.

  His gaze met mine in challenge. “You are running out of legs to stand upon when you challenge me, Seraphine. Do not force my hand again.”

  “You dare,” I hissed.

  The Warlord's deep laugh, like an earthquake ricocheting off the edges of a bottomless, dark well filled the darkness. “You fools,” he said into the vast cavern.

  The council and Mindrik let small smiles light their faces. And, in an eerie trance, they all spoke as one, arcs of purple spanning the space between their hair and fingers.

  “Come forward and know foolishness.”

  The Warlord roared, raising his massive swords, and charged forward. The other two Kraw went as well, Dal stayed back, yelling into the room after them.

  “No!”

  But arcs of power, like purple lightning, shot out of the four humans on the arch, striking the three Kraw rushing toward them. The two Kraw whose names I had not known, whose lives and families I had not even bothered to learn, fell to their knees, purple lightning bouncing in their open mouths as they screamed one last time.

  The Warlord had crossed his swords, the lightning arcing to his weapons, and he let off a feral sound of struggle and anger as he pushed back, as if pushing those crossed swords against a wall, and I forgot to breathe as he the slice of steel strung the air tight and he drew his arms apart, flinging that power back at the humans.

  Their eyes went wide as they ducked the lightning, Sol Jalgon and his brown robes being knocked off the arch by Sol Lalpund in his haste to dodge death. I sucked in a breath as Sol Jalgon's fingers slipped on the arch, barely brushing it on a wordless gasp before his body fell into the writhing ball of purple above the wound in my world. Sol Jalgon was gone, swallowed up by the purple doorway with only a whisper of his startled breath left to our memories.

  I made to hobble forward, and Dal held me back behind the doors with him, brow furrowed in concentration as his gaze swept the room. I wanted to be in those calculations.

  “Let me go,” I snarled. The remaining council were righting themselves, the arcs of purple beginning to connect between them again.

  The Warlord yelled to the council, and I knew from his voice that the leyline's power was feeding into him the way it had done to me. “You pathetic excuses for maggot food, Kraw cannot be stopped.” And with a whirl of both wrists, the Warlord twirled his swords and advanced, muscles straining, eyes gleaming with the power of the leyline.

  The remaining three humans on the arch lifted their hands, and purple fire encircled the Warlord. I gasped as bits of his flesh began to break off, rising in an unseen wind, the edges burning with purple smolder like paper ash.

  The Warlord roared and crashed forward, just as the room seemed to explode in purple energy. Dal shielded me as the blast went past us, and when we looked again the Warlord was being raised in the air on a buffeting wind blowing out of the three humans, their robes and hair flapping about.

  The Warlord struggled and snarled, his eyes glowing white with a power I had never seen in any Kraw's eyes before. The three humans raised their arms toward him, channeling so much power that my hair stood on end. The Warlord threw one sword at the council and it sang through the air as it split into Sol Crepuskar's chest.

  She uttered not a sound as her eyes went wide and her body tumbled into the same purple abyss Sol Jalgon had met his end at. Still, Mindrik and Sol Lalpund held onto their power, holding the Warlord in place as arcs of purple danced out of their eyes and through their fingertips.

  The Warlord's veins began to stand out of his skin, purple, his muscles bulging under his tattooed skin as his eyes glowed more intense. The purple began to fan out from his veins, and a snarl of agony was ripped from his throat as he fought the leyline’s power. Still pieces of his skin were ripping away like ash afflicted by purple fire, and still the white glow of his eyes was raging in his face.

  “Dal!” I called over the rushing of hot wind and magic.

  “Wait,” Dal said over the noise.

  “Dal they're killing him!”

  Dal didn’t answer. My chance to destroy the leyline was dying with the Warlord. I thrust my palm out past Dal and a dragonfly exploded out of it, buzzing and burning through the air.

  “No!” Dal shouted.

  The dragonfly was impervious to the blast of purple waving past us. It sang into the air to the heartbeat of my world, and Sol Lalpund and Mindrik cast purple eyes to it, strained already with their effort to end the Warlord, whose veins were lighting on purple fire now from his toes, and climbing. Arcs of purple lightning bounced off the humans, going through my dragonfly and hitting nothing. Mindrik's purple gaze met mine just outside the door then, and my heart caught in my throat as I beheld the regret in his eyes.

  “I'm sorry,” Mindrik said, his own voice strung into two. Still my dragonfly was arcing high, buzzing hot heat, preparing to dive on Mindrik and Sol Lalpund. I didn't know if I had the heart for this. Killing people I didn't know was one thing, but this, this was the murder of someone who had been my friend.

  “Mindrik. You can walk away. End this. Help me heal our world,” I called.

  A sad smile twisted thin lips over a weak chin. “Naïve country girl to the bitter end. Goodbye, dear Seraphine.”

  A purple arc of lightning cracked past the Warlord, toward me. My dragonfly's hot buzzing roared through the air, diving to the two humans threatening my existence. Dal's hot hand was wrapping around my arm, but whatever he planned, I realized too late that it wouldn't be fast enough to save us. At least the council would die. My dragonfly exploded into the two humans, bursting on impact, incinerating the frail men just as the purple lightning reached my face. Death flashed before me and I knew with every bone in my body that this was my end, and I had failed Dal.

  But then I blinked and realized that the lightning arc was still there, in front of my face, unmoving. I gasped and stepped back, and my gasp echoed into the vast space as the body of the Warlord slumped to the floor. Dal pulled me back, and I glanced at the two men on the arch, molten flame vaguely resembling the shape of humans stopped mid twist. I turned to Dal, and the light I had come to know as his gift danced in his eyes.

  The Warlord laughed. Rising on bloodied legs and turning to us slowly, white flame licking up his torn body and putting him back together.

  “You cannot still me, you maggot, it is why I am the Warlord,” he said with a snarl. “The traitor's brand will end you, Dal, and your human and I shall watch as you—"

  But the Warlord stopped mid-sentence when Dal stepped forward, not weak and frail as promised, not lesser for using his great power on another.

  “Why are you whole?” The Warlord asked with a growl, his black eyes glittering with the promise of death.

  Dal drew his black sword, then traced one hand down the scar in the shape of a hand on his pectoral. My hand. “I have your cruelty to thank for my freedom from the binding spell.” Dal's voice was calm as he strode toward the Warlord, blade at the ready.

  Everything lead
ing up to this moment clicked into place. Dal was going to fight the Warlord. And if I had just waited, just let the humans kill the Warlord, we would be free of him already. But I had acted because I wasn't sure if Dal and I could beat the council by ourselves. Once again, my choices may have doomed us.

  Dal wasn't as large as the Warlord. Or as fast. And he didn’t have that white healing fire within his skin. And though I loved Dal deep in my bones, I knew that he was no match, physically, for the towering figure of death before him, and I cried out.

  “Dal, don't do it,” my voice still casting a strange echo.

  “Leave, Sera,” was all he said to me.

  The Warlord cast a sneer my way, before whirling his remaining blade and crouching, readying for Dal. “You think to take on your Warlord, now that the traitor's brand is gone? The truth of your heart is blacker than the deepest pits of our world. Was your pride so wounded at pulling a cart like a common beast?”

  Still Dal was calm. “This, this is not for me.” The deep vibration of his voice was far away in the strange cavern, and I wondered what immense power was surging through Dal as he neared the leyline. “This is for Seraphine. For the woman I love. For freedom from you.”

  “Dal, stop,” I commanded.

  The Warlord gave a low laugh. “Even my frail Eyes and Ears knows that you cannot win. Your weak show of emotion cannot save you now any more than it saved her from being broken by me.”

  Dal was still taking confident, slow strides. Hatred rolled off of him, in the bulge of his muscles, the quiver of his back. He was enraged. Hope flared within me. Hope that he had a chance.

  “It takes a very weak individual to find pleasure in the pain of those smaller than them. It is fortunate for me that you are so much larger, for finding pleasure in your pain will bring me honor.” And with that, every muscle in Dal's body went taught as he swung at the Warlord.

  Steel rang through the cavern as the Warlord blocked, and I was on my toes as I watched the man I loved throw his very soul into his blade, doing everything in his power to cut down the Warlord. I tried to do as Dal said; I tried to stay by the door and watch. But it became apparent that the Warlord was too large, too fast, too cunning for my Dal, who was fierce indeed, but even he had admitted that he was no match for his Warlord.