Jogging toward Roselake Castle’s threshold, Kilena found the guard posted outside stared horrified up into the cloud speckled sky, a trembling hand on his sheathed weapon. She and Targath rushed passed him on to the path connecting the imposing structure to the rest of the city.
“What’s the order, princess?”
Halting in the middle of the stone bridge, sapphire eyes fixed high, Kilena questioned, “Princess? Again?”
“You carried yourself regally through that conversation, with the grace and pride of a princess,” Targath answered, studying the cursed dragon.
Slithering through the air in intricate curves, Utiss fended off another dragon of similar size but with sickly green magic shimmering between charcoal scales. Kilena beheld their battle attentively, tensing throughout her arms and legs as if she could leap into the battle from the ground. “As did you, but your actions do not speak to that of a prince.”
“That’s fine. Rogue is sufficient,” he decided with a smirk.
Frightened voices rang up from the city, but from too great a distance to be comprehended by Kilena.
“They’re surprised to see a dragons still exist,” Targath informed, a lilt of agitation raising his tone. “Your people really cast them out, didn’t they?”
Plaintively, Kilena responded, “The tale of the dragon war has become so twisted, is it truly any surprise?”
Shocked citizens gawked at the mystical creatures battling in the air. Claws slashing, only to skate off scales. Jaws gnashing, barely missing the tail that darted away. Utiss’s opponent paused in the air, wings cupped and flapping to remain suspended. She raced toward him with several forceful beats of her wings.
“She can’t break away for a moment. Any hesitation and that cursed dragon will win,” Kilena exclaimed. “I need to be out there helping her!”
Chest expanding and long neck arching, the cursed dragon drew in a deep breath and then unleashed a plume of noxious green fire. Flying too rapidly to stop, Utiss sped straight into the assault but veered at the last second. She emerged unscorched, but as she coughed for cleansing air she lost altitude and plummeted toward the ground.
Targath’s head canted at the sound of wooden wheels crunching against stone. Golden eyes tipped upward, he spotted the source. A ballista rolled into position at one of the towers. He tuned into the voices of shouting men.
“Bring the bolt!”
“Loading!”
He clapped a hand down on Kilena’s armored shoulder. “Go to Utiss, quickly. I’ll stop those idiots from firing on them.”
Kilena followed Targath’s gaze and searched the top of the rampart, gasping when she found the ballista being aimed. She pivoted, sprinting through the city streets to the nearest exit. Targath’s hand dropped limply at his side without her shoulder to rest on. He waited until she was nearly out of sight, then laced his fingers and intensely focused on his destination. A plume of cerulean sparks burst from his hands, and he vanished into thin air.
A moment later he appeared behind the ballista, between one man in charge of loading it and the other aiming it toward the dragons. Targath snatched their helmeted heads. Clang! Skulls rattled inside their iron prisons, and the two men collapsed, stars clouding their vision.
One other stood among them, the one barking orders to ready the ballista. He began drawing his sword, but froze when the point of a dagger steadily hovered inches from his throat. Sedrik traced the lengthy arm up to the charcoal face glaring at him and shouted, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I should be asking you the same thing, but I already know you’re trying to play the hero and look better than Kilena,” Targath retorted calmly. “You’ll never hit a target moving that fast, and if you hit the nice dragon, well, that will make my friend sad.”
“I won’t stand idly by while two dragons threaten the lives of civilians,” the Iron Rose’s high commander protested.
“You will stand by,” he demanded, stepping forward. His lofty height and the impending threat of the dagger intimdated Sedrik to back away until he bumped into the tower’s railing. “Stand down and let the real hero handle this. Utiss was trying to keep the cursed dragon from attacking the city,” Targath admonished venomously. “If you’d open your eyes and look beyond your own ego you would see that.”
Sedrik’s eyes twitched. His arm unhinged at the shoulder, sword snapping the rest of the way out of its scabbard and swinging diagonally toward Targath’s arm. The agile fey recoiled half a step, and the blade fanned air toward him. The instant Sedrik’s arm became fully extended, Targath reacted instinctively with honed reflexes. Seizing the vulnerable wrist, he yanked Sedrik’s arm up and over his head. Ripped off balance, Sedrik twirled around in place. Armor bit into his skin and his ligaments howled when Targath contorted his arm behind his back to maintain control.
Targath shoved the knight high commander forward and pinned him against the stone railing at the tower’s perimeter, relishing the hiss of pain his vexed victim emitted through gnashing teeth. “Now watch a real knight at work, before I get aggressive,” he calmly ordered, casting his own gaze to the ground below.
Kilena rushed across the overgrown field of grass between the sturdy curtain wall and the shimmering lake, each step eliciting noisy clinks from her armor that was of no hindrance to her speed. Closing in on the grounded battle, she extracted her buckler and giant-forged short sword in preparation to attack or defend. The cursed dragon’s paws swiped with precision, striking Utiss across the snout repeatedly. Her sluggish movements were not enough to evade the razor sharp claws.
The charcoal scaled dragon overheard the clamoring knight and in the momentary distraction Utiss swung her mighty tail across his horned skull. Unleashing an aggravated bellow, he lunged at Utiss. Kilena rushed up from behind when he reared back and dug her sword across the dragon’s smoky gray underside. A clean slice opened up soft flesh, black blood surging forward to fill the gap left behind. Screeching in agony, it stumbled back in a daze.
Utiss roared in relief, “Kilena!”
“We need to move. Go to Frineer’s cave,” the knight commanded, jumping onto the dragon’s back. As soon as she settled, Utiss bolted off in a canter. “Good job, Utiss,” Kilena praised. “Tell me what happened. Are you hurt?”
“This is Ginroy, another of Ivna’s cursed brood,” she explained through labored breaths. “He snuck up on me in the forest through some sort of camouflage. Do not breathe in the fire or smoke he spews. It is poisonous.”
A screech pierced the air, translating as a cackle in Kilena’s mind. “Mother will be so pleased if I can eliminate both of you at once!” Ginroy ascended and flew after his prey, leaving the city behind.
“Where are they going?” Sedrik questioned, and then he erupted with a guffaw. “Ha! Look at your hero now, fleeing from battle!”
“She’s not fleeing, moron,” Targath harshly corrected, and smacked the back of Sedrik’s helmet with the pommel of his dagger. “She’s taking the fight away from the city. I’ve got to follow them so don’t do anything else brash while I’m gone.” Tugging on Sedrik’s imprisoned wrist, he turned and pushed him away toward the ballista. A spring in his step, Targath vaulted over the stone railing. During the long plummet his hands swirled together, fingers bent, as if gripping and twisting an invisible object in his palms. A sensation drifted up his legs, like wading up to his knees in a lukewarm stream, moments before he met the ground. He landed on his feet, and the concentration of magic spared his lengthy legs which propelled him quickly after Ginroy, following the trail of viscous, black blood he left behind.
Kilena Shrelack 