by Bryan Davis
Hartanna’s recent surveillance report had said that a marauding army was now marching faster and would crest the rise in less than three minutes. Chariots rolled in the front line along with dozens of bowmen and spearmen. The war they had awaited these four years was now upon them.
Billy lifted Excalibur and let it glow. Hartanna had confirmed the rust coating on most of the troops, but not all had been protected. Maybe he could take out enough soldiers to slow them down, or at least spread a little panic.
Hiding in the forest at the left side of the field, Dikaios waited with Sapphira on his back. Nearby, Listener rode Ember, her pigtails swinging in the warm breeze as she carried an unlit torch in each hand. Dikaios pawed the ground with a hoof. The warrior horse was ready for action.
On the right side of the field, Ashley and Thigocia also hid among the trees. Ashley held a hose that led up into a tall evergreen where it split into several feeder tubes attached to bags of airplane fuel. In the other direction, the hose split again into a web of tubes that spread out over the field. Ashley had drilled tiny holes throughout the tubing network and laid it in the grass several weeks before she and Walter covered the field with the filament net. Now, with the net removed, the tubes would be ready for the attack.
With her hand on a valve, she waited for the right time to open it. Gravity would force the fuel into the tubes and spray both the ground and the invaders. Then she and Thigocia would take to the sky while Sapphira set everything ablaze. Her timing would have to be perfect.
Above, Merlin flew back and forth over the expanse between the fire trap and the rise. Candle and Windor were ready. The bombs would soon be falling.
To each side of Clefspeare, dragons had lined up in a row, leaving a gap of about ten paces between them. Bonnie sat atop Hartanna to their left, and Elam rode Sorentine to his right. To Elam’s right, Walter sat high on Firedda’s neck, his muscles flexed. He was ready to go to war. Beyond him, Sir Barlow rode Legossi. She had brought her head back toward him, and he was whispering something in her ear. Dragon and warrior grinned, both apparently in good humor.
To Billy’s left, beyond Hartanna, Valiant rode Yellinia. Both were stoic, perhaps even sad. As many times as Valiant had gone to war, it seemed strange that he appeared to despise it so much. Such was the character of nobility—a hatred for violence, yet a willingness to perform it to protect the innocent from its jaws.
Billy tried to settle his heart. As soon as Excalibur disintegrated as many enemy troops as possible, the ground on which they all stood would erupt with dragons flying into battle.
Behind the line of dragons, Flint sat against a tree. Still very sick, his arms hung loosely at his sides. Obviously, he couldn’t do anyone harm, and Elam and Valiant wanted him to witness the trouble his alliance with Goliath had caused. If the attacking army managed to break through, Flint would be at their mercy, though no one thought they would show him any.
In a cloud of dust, a chariot appeared at the top of the rise and halted. Two horses reared up and stomped the newly dried mud. Four other chariots joined the first, and the lead driver steered his horses to the side, allowing him to view the land ahead.
Billy clenched Excalibur. Just a few were in sight. It would be best to wait as long as possible. Besides, he had never tested the beam’s power from this far away. Still, with the restored rubellite in the hilt, it would probably work.
The lead driver shouted. His horses wheeled the chariot around and charged. The other four pursued in a wild gallop. Like a rush of ants, men clad in dark armor swarmed over the rise and flooded the landscape, some on foot and some on horseback. Brown dust flew all around, masking their churning legs. At least three invaders stood taller than the others, the surviving Nephilim, and the oddly shaped heads of a few Vacants were obvious in the midst of the throng.
Elam drew his sword. “Billy, you may attack when ready.”
As battle cries pounded his ears like a sonic hammer, Billy lit up Excalibur’s beam and pointed it straight up. The horde’s front line would be in the fuel trap in less than two minutes. It was time to thin them out.
A flutter of wings made him look back. Gabriel flew horizontally along the ground and settled between Billy and Elam. Dressed in the village’s battle uniform, he withdrew a sword from a scabbard at his hip. “I’m reporting for duty.”
“Excellent,” Elam said. “We can always use another warrior.”
“Warrior?” Gabriel waved his sword. “I have zero training, but I might be able to take someone out from the air.”
“Where are Shiloh and Acacia?” Billy asked.
Gabriel pointed toward the village with his thumb. “Behind me. I told them to stay put, but I’m not sure they will. Acacia thinks she can muster up a little more fire, but—”
“No more time to talk.” Billy angled the beam toward the rushing mass and swept it from right to left across the field. As soon as the beam made contact with a soldier, sparks flew. One man disappeared, but four surrounding him continued running, though the one following had to leap over the tumbling armor.
As if jumping from place to place, the sparks erupted in a ragged pattern. A horse vanished, sending its rider flying. Three men running side by side disintegrated, but the next five merely glowed red.
Finally, the last line charged over the rise. A lone man rode a horse at the top of the crest. Tall and dressed in black from head to toe, he stopped and watched the scene, apparently content to let the advance troops do the dirty work before he came to add to the carnage. His entire body seemed to sparkle in the sunlight, as if he had been painted with reflective powder instead of rust.
Two red dragons flew over his head, one half the size of the other. As they zoomed toward the village, a third dragon with tawny scales trailed them.
Billy swept the beam back across the invaders. More disappeared, but far fewer. Gaps dotted the black sea. The disintegrating laser made it seem as if a rain of arrows had fallen among them, taking out about a fourth of the troops—not nearly enough.
“I think that’s all I can do.” Billy ran up Clefspeare’s tail and sat at the base of his neck. “Let’s go!”
In a massive flurry of wings, six dragons lifted into the air. As Clefspeare rose in a tight circle, Billy tapped his jaw and shouted into the transmitter. “Candle! Make a bombing run!”
Elam called from Sorentine’s back. “Tell him to take out the lead chariots!”
“Got it!” Billy kept his grip on his sword and clutched his father’s spine. “Bomb the front row, Candle. Send the charioteers on a ride they’ll never forget!”
Clefspeare leveled out at an elevation high enough to avoid the expected onslaught of arrows. As soon as they sailed over the attackers, arrows zinged into the air, but most fell back to earth before reaching their altitude. A few made it that high and finished their ascension in lazy arcs. One pinged harmlessly off Clefspeare’s scales and another drifted past Billy’s ear, too slowly to do any harm.
He looked back at their takeoff point. Acacia and Shiloh now stood there, Gabriel in front of them with his wings spread and his sword in front of him. In the rush, Elam hadn’t told Gabriel what to do, so he would have to fend for himself and hope Ashley’s firetrap warded off the invaders.
Clefspeare drew his head close to Billy. “Candle is making his run. Are you ready?”
Bending low, Billy nodded. “Let’s smoke ’em!”
Clefspeare angled downward. To his right, five other dragons did the same. The plan was to follow Candle, fan out, and blast fire at anything the bombs didn’t stop. So far, the dragons seemed strong, and no one on the ground flashed any glittering gems. Maybe they didn’t have candlestones after all. Still, the lone man on the ridge held up a fist as he patiently watched. Was he Sir Devin? He was too far away to tell for sure. Could he be holding their ultimate weapon? If so, what was he waiting for?
As they dove, the airplane came into view. A bomb dropped, a leather bag loaded with fuel and explosive
powder that would ignite on impact. Before the first one landed, five other bags flew out the airplane’s door.
With the warm wind stinging his eyes as he and Clefspeare zoomed downward, Billy squinted. The bombs exploded one by one, the first one blasting a chariot to bits and sending a cloud of fire and smoke skyward. The cloud obstructed their view, but the loud bangs and thick plumes told the story.
Danger alarmed from every direction. Death lurked in too many places to count. Dodging the smoke, Clefspeare took aim at the invaders to the rear of the bombing run. Just as he drew in a breath, a red dragon blasted out of the cloud and slammed into Clefspeare’s flank.
Clefspeare rocked to the side. Billy jerked with him but held on. As the attacking dragon bounced away and righted himself in the sky, Clefspeare beat his wings to keep his balance. “Goliath!” he roared. “Only a coward like you would attack from a cloud!”
Goliath wheeled around and zoomed toward him again, shouting, “It is not cowardly to attack when I am so outnumbered in the sky.”
Fire gushed from Goliath’s mouth. Clefspeare folded in his wings and dropped. Billy hung on. The stream of flames flew just above his head, and Goliath’s claws snatched at his hair, barely missing. As they fell, Billy’s stomach pressed up toward his throat. When Clefspeare spread his wings again and caught the air, Billy’s organs surged into reverse and dove straight down into his pelvis.
Now that they flew close to ground level, the details of the battle came into view. The bombs had blown craters in the ground, and iron wheels and broken pieces of several chariots lay strewn about. The surviving invaders in the front lines were now scrambling around the holes, while five dragons swooped, one after the other, flooding the field with fire.
Clefspeare added his own barrage. Men became torches—flags of flames as their horses galloped away with them, terrified. Still, at least a third of the attackers broke through the wall of craters, fire, and smoke and charged toward the village, now within seconds of reaching the final barrier, Ashley’s trap.
Above, Goliath gave chase, his laser eyes aimed at Billy. Obviously he knew Clefspeare’s greatest vulnerability was his son.
“Dad!” Billy shouted. “Take me to where we launched! I have to protect Shiloh and Acacia! You’ll fight Goliath better on your own!”
Without a word of objection, Clefspeare veered away and beat his wings madly. Like a shot out of a rifle, they zoomed toward the village.
Billy looked back. Goliath followed but at a slower rate. Behind him, Karrick blew a stream of flames at Legossi, but she shook them off and slapped him across the face with her tail, sending him tumbling downward with a shriek.
From atop her back, Sir Barlow shouted, “Well struck!”
Goliath banked and flew toward the point where Karrick fell. Smoke engulfed both dragons, blocking the view.
As they rocketed past the lead runner and horses in the invading horde, Clefspeare swooped low and flew so close to the trapping field, the tips of his wings touched the ground at the bottom of their down sweeps, even brushing the tubes that lay in the dead grass.
He tore past Ashley to the left and Sapphira to the right as they continued waiting in the bordering woods. At the launching site, Gabriel sprang out of the way. Rearing up, Clefspeare beat his wings furiously and landed on the run, fanning Shiloh and Acacia as he passed by.
Before he came to a stop, Billy leaped to the dried mud. “I’m down! Take off!”
Clefspeare banked, his feet clawing the ground and his wings swerving his massive body. Then, in another flurry, he vaulted again into the sky.
The stampeding army swarmed over the booby-trapped field, chariots rumbling, horse hooves thundering, men shouting. Billy dashed in front of Shiloh, Acacia, and Gabriel and raised his sword. “Get down! Now!” Billy gave Flint a quick glance. He sat motionless against the tree, his eyes wide, but he showed no other signs of alarm.
In the woods, Ashley twisted the valve, then mounted Thigocia. As they scrambled from the forest, thin fountains spurted across the field. A few soldiers slipped and fell under the tromping feet and hooves, but the rest charged on.
Dikaios leaped into action, carrying Sapphira in a mad gallop. Ember and Listener followed close behind. At the near end of the field, Sapphira tossed a ball of fire to the ground. Listener slung a flaming torch.
Like a blast from a dragon, the flames shot across the muddy grass, creating a fiery wall. As Dikaios ran along the field’s left boundary, Sapphira threw ball after ball, igniting the fuel that coated the ground and the sea of soldiers. Listener tossed her second torch, then ducked low and rode Ember at a gallop.
Chariots, men, and horses burst into flames. Cries of anguish filled the air. The inferno spread throughout the forest-bounded field and roasted every creature caught in the trap.
Standing close enough to feel the searing heat, Billy kept Excalibur raised. The three Nephilim broke through the fiery wall. Two were completely ablaze while the third batted at his flaming legs, apparently in too much pain to fight. Another two men, normal in size and wearing Roman-style armor, jumped out from the forest, their clothes merely smoking. They charged, but there was only one clear path to the village, straight through Billy and Excalibur.
As they sprinted toward him, one threw a spear. With a quick swing, Billy slapped it out of the air and ran to meet them. Just as he heaved in a breath, ready to send a volley of fire, a ball of flames surged past him and splashed in one attacker’s face, knocking him back. As he writhed on the ground in a blaze, the other swung a sword. Billy parried and dropped to a crouch. When the man’s momentum carried him over Billy’s body, Billy shoved upward with his shoulder and sent the man tumbling.
The attacker climbed back to his feet, dazed. Gabriel strode in front of him and spread his wings. Wide-eyed, the man drew back his sword, but Gabriel drove his own sword through the man’s belly. He collapsed in a heap.
Exhaling heavily, Billy scanned the area. The other four attackers, including the three Nephilim, lay on the ground, burning, and no one else had broken through the fire trap. He hurried to Shiloh, Acacia, and Gabriel. “Thanks for the help.”
Her face pale and gaunt, Acacia gave him a nod. “It was the least I could do.”
Gabriel nodded. “Same here. That guy was so scared of my wings, I think he was having a heart attack.”
“We have to get you guys out of here,” Billy said. “That was our last trap. There are so many of them, more are bound to break through.”
“And the fire’s spreading into the forest,” Shiloh said. “What are you going to do about Flint?”
Billy looked at the pitiful man, still leaning against the tree. “Nothing. Elam’s orders. I wish I could take him, but I can’t disobey.”
Gabriel wrapped his arms around Shiloh from behind. “I can carry one. Just tell me where to go.”
A gust blew back Acacia’s snowy hair. Thigocia landed with a thump, breathing heavily. Atop her back, Ashley shouted, “Our dragons are faltering! Someone must have a candlestone!”
Billy pointed toward the fire. “I saw someone dressed in black behind the lines, probably Sir Devin. It looked like he was waiting for something.”
“Likely to see if I was anywhere in sight,” Thigocia said. “I am immune to the candlestone, and if I had seen him, I would have cooked him on the spot.”
“Then let me ride with you.” Billy stepped toward Thigocia. “I’ll show you which one he is.”
Ashley shook her head. “You’re not immune, but I am. I know what the creep looks like.”
“We have to hurry,” Thigocia said. “I stopped here to let you know that Goliath is trying to lead a wave of invaders to the birthing garden by a different route. Clefspeare is opposing him, and they are doing battle, but they are getting closer to the garden by the second. If Elam and Valiant are still alive, I will warn them. Otherwise, as queen of the dragons, I will order our survivors to break off this attack and hurry to the garden. We must protect
Heaven’s Gate.”
Billy nodded. “Have you seen Bonnie?”
A streak of pain crossed Ashley’s face. “We saw Hartanna from a distance. She was still flying, but she had no rider. That’s all we know.”
As Thigocia beat her wings to take off, Ashley kept her gaze on Billy. She mouthed the words, “I’m sorry,” and then rose into the air.
His legs now trembling, Billy turned to the others. “We have to get to the garden and warn Yereq.”
“You bet.” Gabriel flapped his wings, but Billy pulled him back.
“I think you’d better take Acacia,” Billy said. “She probably can’t run as fast as Shiloh.”
Gabriel shifted his arms from Shiloh to Acacia. Looking at Shiloh, he whispered, “I’ll see you soon.” Then, taking a deep breath, he flapped his wings again and took off.
Billy slid Excalibur away and grasped Shiloh’s hand. “Come on!”
As they ran toward the village, Billy glanced at her every few seconds. Her lovely profile and blond-streaked hair shot pain through his heart. If only Bonnie could be running at his side. Would it be all right just to imagine her presence for a moment? Would it ease the pain of not knowing where she was and cast away the images of her lying dead on the battlefield while those demons from Hell did whatever they wished to her body?
As she began to pant under the strain of their sprint, Shiloh pulled her hand away, a hand with a missing finger. The stump shattered his daydream. Her lack of wings ripped his heart. This wasn’t Bonnie. She was still in danger … somewhere.
After running into the village at the northeast side, they skirted the tree-lined border to the north and rushed into the garden’s field. Gabriel had already arrived and stood with Acacia in front of Yereq.
Billy and Shiloh joined them. While Billy caught his breath, he scanned the sky. As expected, two red dragons battled overhead, maybe a quarter mile away. If Goliath was leading part of the army this way, the invaders would be here in moments.