"Advance!" Rayan yelled, drawing her pulwar and pointing it toward the broken gates. "Kill everyone save the elf bitch."
None of them would recognize Wyn Renna, she knew, but it didn't matter. This time, protected by her new jacket, she’d be among the first in the city, allowing only a single company to go ahead of her and soak up any attacks. Rayan charged forward, safe in the knowledge that her shade would protect her from any mundane threat while the armored jacket would protect her from mages with hexed weapons.
She was invincible.
Chapter 47
Angie didn't burn. Neither did Tec, Rowan, and a handful of others who had been lucky enough to be near Angie. The Shade King shielded Angie and everyone in her proximity. Sadly, scores of defenders weren't so lucky and had died in fire. The flames continued to burn along a long swath of the southern wall. Charred bodies lay everywhere, the stench horrific.
Tec rolled off Angie and pulled her to her feet, his eyes wild with concern.
"It's okay. I'm okay," she said.
"We need to get away from the wall," he said as he maintained his grip on her upper arm. "It might come back."
The black dragon was turning, beating its wings as it readied to move against the eastern wall, where Jay and Erin had taken up a firing position. The damned dragon had killed Casey, and now it was going to kill Erin and Jay. She heard an enthusiastic roar coming from the Aztalan soldiers as they rushed for the now undefended gates in the southern wall. The city would fall. There was nothing anyone could do to stop it now.
Her helplessness and desperation battled with her building rage. She yanked her arm free of Tec's grasp.
Everyone would die.
The dragon leveled out and began to descend for its fiery attack along the eastern wall.
"We need to pull back to city hall," Tec said, seeing the first of the enemy reach the gates.
"No," she said quietly, glaring at the dragon, at the oncoming horde of Aztalan soldiers. "No more running."
YOU ARE READY, the Shade King spoke, a hint of pride in its voice.
Angie extended her arms to the sides, her palms up. She closed her eyes, casting out her life-sense ability, focusing on the first of the Aztalan soldiers now rushing inside the gate. There must have been a hundred of them, an entire company, with hundreds more waiting to get inside and begin the slaughter. A part of her felt pity for them. Maybe some didn't want to be here; some must have been forced here by the Tzitzime. But forced or not, they were here. They had made their choice, and she wasn't going to let them bloody their hands on the hearts of her friends.
This was her city.
DRINK, SOURCE MAGE. FILL YOURSELF.
From a distance, she took their lives. First those closest, and then the next dozen and then the next dozen. They fell where they ran, and their life force flowed into her, swelling her with mana. It should have been like drinking from a fire hose, but she easily took it all in. She was a vessel that couldn’t be filled. When her eyes flashed open, at least a hundred Aztalan soldiers lay dead, piled up at the gates below. Tec and Rowan stared at her in wonder ... and fear, their mouths open.
Do they see a monster?
She was what she was.
Flames erupted over her body, a sheet of fire that should have consumed her but didn't. They were her flames, the Shade King's flames. As atop Lodin’s tower, her clothing flash incinerated. Her side-sword, the leather burned away this time, clattered to the battlements. Rowan and Tec staggered back, their hands in front of their faces.
THE DRAGON ONLY THINKS IT IS A CREATURE OF FIRE. TEACH THE WYRM ITS MISTAKE. RISE NOW ON WINGS OF FIRE—RISE, SOURCE MAGE.
And she did. Her arms extended, fire swirling about her, Angie rose into the air and flew toward the dragon.
Dark storm clouds appeared, rolling in from a previously cloudless sky. Her winds buffeted the dragon, knocking it away from the eastern wall before it could breathe fire. The dragon's wings beat madly as it fought the winds, turning to face the burning Angie. She drew lightning bolts from the sky, sending them arcing into the dragon.
It screamed in rage.
And pain.
And then came at Angie.
Rayan was close enough behind the lead company to see them fall but far enough away to avoid whatever foul magic had killed them. The soldiers with her, hundreds still, slowed their advance, staring in confusion at the corpses. Fear twisted Rayan's gut as she moved among the dead men. There wasn't a mark on any of them… Angela Ritter, she thought in horror. She did this. I don't know how but—
When she saw a small human form encased in flames, arms outstretched, rise into the air and fly toward the black dragon, Rayan's blood ran cold. Impossibly, dark storm clouds roiled in the sky, with lightning flashing down. The dragon roared as lightning struck it, outlining its massive bulk in arcane fury. The dragon and burning figure—Angela Ritter, she somehow knew—joined in battle, a battle the likes of which no one had ever seen.
But Rayan had her own battle to wage. She inhaled deeply, faced the gates, and prepared herself, her pulwar in hand. "Forward," she yelled. "Take the city."
Her soldiers remained fixed in place, staring up at the supernatural battle in the sky. It was like watching gods fight.
Rage surged in Rayan's heart. She had to capture Wyn Renna, or she'd die for sure. Her mistress was on her own. Rayan screamed in fury, lashing out at the closest soldiers with both pulwar and blood-whip spell. Her pulwar cut the head from one of the soldiers, and her red whip of arcane energy sliced through a man's arm just above the elbow. Blood sprayed in Rayan's face, all over her beautiful dragon-scale jacket.
But she had their attention. They stared at her in fear.
"I said, take the city!"
They hesitated only a moment. When Rayan raised her bloody pulwar again, they ran past her, screaming as they charged into the city. No matter what happened in the sky, this centuries-long secret war ended today.
Atop the wall, Tec watched in stunned silence as Angie, wreathed in flames, unleashed a firestorm against the dragon, battling it with fire, wind, and lightning. And the dragon lashed out at her with wing, claw, and flames, but each time the dragon struck, a brilliant golden sphere of energy flared around Angie, protecting her. It was the single most amazing thing he had ever seen in all his long life—and he had served a great dragon for much of it.
Rowan, standing beside him, turned and looked wide-eyed at Tec. "How ... did you...?"
"No," Tec whispered, transfixed by the battle. Chain lightning flashed down from the dark clouds, striking the dragon and sending tendrils of electrical energy coursing around one of its wings. "I didn't, and I don't know how. I knew she was special. That's why Lodin wanted her, but..."
Rowan gripped Tec's arm and pulled it hard. Tec turned and followed the other man's gaze as hundreds of Aztalan soldiers surged into the city. They fanned out and began shooting indiscriminately. Others broke through doors and charged inside homes. Screams of panic rose from the buildings they burst into.
And among the soldiers, leading a small group of them, was Rayan Zar Davi. She wore a blue-green leather jacket of some kind and carried her hexed pulwar. She ignored the carnage and led her soldiers in the direction of Veteran's Square and the City Hall.
Where Wyn Renna guarded the egg.
"We have to stop her," Tec said.
"Let's go."
Both men took off at a run, heading for the stairs down from the wall.
Chapter 48
The pain in Casey's skull woke him.
His eyes flashed open. He was sitting in his cockpit, still strapped to his pilot's seat, but the windshield was shattered, a web of cracks running through it. The air was acrid, filled with smoke and toxic fumes. Something dripped down the side of his face. He raised a hand to touch his face, and the fingertips came away bloody.
He had crashed.
The sudden realization surged through him, filled him with purpose. The Blackhawk was burning. I
f he didn't get out—right this god damned moment—he’d burn with it, werewolf or not. Now through the webbed windshield, he saw figures advancing—Aztalan soldiers! Of course Aztalan soldiers were coming to finish him off. It made perfect sense. Bullets ricocheted from the armored side panels that protected the cockpit.
"Fuck my life," he said as he hit the harness release and freed himself from his armored seat.
He scrambled over to the copilot's seat, the side of the aircraft facing the city wall, and used both feet to kick out the emergency pop-out window in the cockpit door. He hesitated only long enough to snatch the bug-out bag behind the copilot's seat and then scrambled out of his downed aircraft through the window, pulling the small backpack with him.
He had loaded the bug-out bag himself from Tec's supplies: a 9mm sub-gun and a half dozen magazines of ammunition, two hand grenades—because fuck it, when weren’t grenades fun?—as well as a handheld tac-radio. Bullets continued to crack overhead as the Aztalan soldiers shot at the downed aircraft. The aircraft smoldered but wasn't yet on fire as he had first feared, but there was no other cover anywhere nearby, so he put the wrecked tail assembly between himself and the approaching enemy and pulled out the sub-gun.
It had gotten dark somehow, with storm clouds roiling above. He looked up. "What the fuck?"
When lightning flared, illuminating the dragon battling some fiery … thing, he almost forgot where he was and what he was doing—until a hail of gunfire from the Aztalans struck around him, reminding him to focus on his own problems.
There should have been a hundred or more defenders on the eastern wall firing into the attackers, but he guessed they had fled before the dragon could come back ... which, while unfortunate for him, was entirely understandable. He inserted a magazine into the sub-gun just as an Aztalan soldier, a heavyset bearded man, ran through the smoke, coming right at him with an assault rifle raised to fire. Casey drew back the bolt on his sub-gun, but before the Aztalan could fire, his entire upper body exploded into red mist. Casey heard the boom of a heavy-caliber weapon—Erin. It had to be Erin. She and Jay had been on the eastern wall behind him. His brother and sister were still there, still covering him. "Thank you, sis," he said.
As the next two soldiers ran forward, Casey put them both down with bursts of 9 mm fire. But a lot more were coming. Another soldier exploded into mist, and the man beside him fell back, his head shattered by a smaller but no less lethal assault rifle bullet—Jay, he imagined.
Casey snatched at the tac radio and turned it on. It came to life with a beep and a hiss. "Erin, that you?" he asked, using the preset channel they had chosen for their communications. He held the walkie-talkie-type radio against his face with one hand while he fired his sub-gun with the other, dropping two more enemy soldiers.
The radio beeped in his ear. "Get the hell out of there. We'll cover," Erin ordered, her voice tinged with fear.
He didn't like hearing the fear in her voice. She deserved better than worrying about old soldiers like him. He fired again, dropping another soldier and sending others scurrying for cover. His weapon was empty, so he calmly inserted another mag and then keyed his radio. "No can do, kiddo. Nowhere to go."
"Can you climb the wall?"
The wall was only about fifty meters behind him, but it might as well have been five hundred. Besides, a quick glance at the corrugated iron plates confirmed there was no way he'd find any purchase for climbing. "Not going to happen," he told her.
The radio was silent for several seconds, and he could only imagine Erin's anguish. The Aztalans were screaming at one another from cover, readying themselves to surge forward, so he rooted about in the bug-out bag and found the two hand grenades. He pulled the pin on one grenade and tossed it overhead, easily throwing it behind the rocks where the Aztalans were readying themselves. When it detonated a few seconds later with a puff of thick black smoke, it was followed by howls of pain. Casey grinned.
The radio beeped. "Stay alive," Erin said. "Jay's gone to look for a rope. We'll pull you up."
He sighed as he looked over his shoulder at the wall. It was too high; he'd be too exposed. The moment he tried to climb that wall, even with a rope, the enemy would shoot him to pieces. Maybe he could make it as a werewolf—he was almost indestructible as a werewolf—but that wasn't an option. Unlike Tec, his family only changed with the full moon.
He saw dozens of other forms through the smoke, heard the yells as the enemy noncoms took control of their troops. There had to be at least a platoon of soldiers preparing to assault, maybe even a company. They'd rush forward in fire teams, each covering the other, and he wouldn't even slow them down.
The radio chirped. "I said, can you hold?"
He sighed and keyed his radio. "Sure, kiddo, sure. I can hold all day."
Casey set the radio down and shot an Aztalan soldier who had chosen that moment to peer over the rock he was hiding behind. Erin would forgive the lie. She was a good person, the best in the family.
He hoped she and the others made it out of the city.
Rayan surged into the city hall with her soldiers, leaving behind the corpses of a dozen city defenders in their wake. They had the enemy on the run now, trying to save their own lives or the sad, miserable lives of their loved ones, but no one would escape the city. Those that weren't slaughtered outright would end up as sacrifices, their hearts cut out. By now, her mistress must have killed that Ritter woman. Rayan had no idea how she had gained so much power, but no mage, no matter how powerful, could fight a dragon, and certainly not Rayan's mistress Itzpapalotl, the feared Obsidian Butterfly, the last of the great dragons.
At the wide stairs, more soldiers tried to stop her. Their bullets ricocheted from her shade's shield in a shower of sparks. Rayan didn't even bother killing them. Her soldiers shot them down in a hail of assault rifle fire. Several of their bodies rolled down the stairs, trailing blood, and Rayan stepped over them as she continued. She knew where she'd find Wyn Renna. Her spies had kept a constant watchful eye on the elven changeling. Despite all the setbacks, all the difficulties, Rayan was about to achieve everything she had ever wanted.
Her pulse throbbed with excitement. Atop the second floor, a pair of soldiers, Nortenos, she thought, tried to stop her. She hit them with Shockwave, sending both slamming back against the wall. One slid down the wall, trailing blood from her broken skull, like a slug, but the second, little more than a teenage boy, tried to rise and fight, even though he was clearly hurt. A brave boy, she thought as she thrust her pulwar through his eye socket.
"Keep your brave heart," she told the boy’s corpse.
With a platoon of Aztalan soldiers behind her, she stormed toward the chamber that held the city's command post. Sandbagged barriers in front of the double doors protected the soldiers guarding it, and those men fired at her now, but once again, her shade protected her. She cast Shockwave again, knocking down the sandbag barriers and the soldiers hiding behind them. Her surviving soldiers shot the exposed soldiers, killing them. Some her men bayoneted where they lay, stabbing them repeatedly, as if to punish them. Rayan had no time for such nonsense, not now.
She cast Shockwave, blowing the doors off the wall before striding forward, victorious.
There, standing before her, a hexed saber in her hand, was the changeling Wyn Renna. A handful of soldiers were with her, as well as those old fools Marshal and Carter, and another mage, a young woman with a saber in her hand and her head wrapped in bandages who looked as though she could barely stand.
Rayan smiled, her victory finally at hand.
Tec surged up the blood-soaked stairs to the city hall, taking them three at a time, leaping over the corpses of dead soldiers. Rowan had been with him, but he had left the older man far behind.
Angie had her battle. He had his. He had to stop Rayan, but she had gotten too far ahead of him. He was running out of time.
He needed to move faster.
He shifted.
Chapter 49
&nbs
p; Angie was shocked that she was still alive.
She fought a great dragon, alone but for the Shade King—and not only was she still alive, she was winning! As with the battle against the demon, the Shade King's mental bond with Angie instantly transmitted the knowledge to cast powerful spells, to bring forth lightning from the sky to batter the dragon, to scour it with gale-force winds. And when the dragon fought back, the Shade King protected her with a spherical shield that surrounded her. With the mana from a hundred Aztalan soldiers coursing through her, she felt as if she could do anything, withstand all attacks.
The dragon fought ferociously with fang and claw, but nothing penetrated the shield. Then the Shade King showed her how to link her attacks, to follow up bolts of lightning with fireballs that battered the dragon mercilessly. Angie sent magical attack after magical attack against this creature that had caused so much misery and suffering. Now she was no longer shocked, no longer afraid. She finally understood the power within her, the same power coveted by the other source mages: Al-Adin, Babi Yagha, and Lodin. There was no limit to the life forces she could consume, the power she could take.
She felt glorious, indestructible… a goddess.
She'd destroy the dragon.
Then she'd take its place.
Itzpapalotl's anger was a white-hot star. She struck at her foe—a human woman wreathed in flames. Not only had this pathetic creature dared to challenge her, but she had also injured the dragon, burning her with bolts of lightning. Itzpapalotl's left wing flared with pain where a bolt had burned all the way through, leaving a gaping black hole that would take years to heal. The wound galled the dragon the most. It was beyond insulting that one as beautiful as she could be injured by one of these short-lived insects. The dragon clawed at the small human again but, as with all her other attacks, a glowing golden sphere of energy protected the woman, and Itzpapalotl was unable to break through. This was impossible!
The Awakened World Boxed Set Page 92