Wings of Fire (The Legend of Hooper's Dragons Book 7)

by GARY DARBY

  “You all right?” Cara calls.

  “I am now,” I grin.

  “Good!” she shouts. “Now quit playing around and get back into the fight!”

  With that, Wind Song darts away, heading for the Wilder crush as Cara unleashes another arrow and a Wilder archer spirals to his death on the ground below.

  “Playing around?” I mutter. “Did that look like playing around to you, Golden Wind?”

  “No, but Cara’s right, we need to get into the fight.”

  Just then, to my left, a twisting flame of dragon breath lights up the sky. Alonya has Regal setting fire to the forest, behind the drogs. “Get over there,” I direct the golden, “I have an idea.”

  The golden dips her wings and moments later, we’re beside Regal. “Keep going!” I call to Alonya, “Let’s set a fire line and then send it toward the drogs!”

  “Right!” Alonya answers and swings Regal to the left while I take the right.

  “Light up the forest, Golden Wind,” I order.

  “Just give the word, Hooper.”

  “Dragon fire!” I shout.

  Golden Wind’s fire is a river of flame and light. She wings along searing a line through the forest. Trees explode, sending embers high into the air.

  “Great. Now, let’s push it toward the drogs!”

  Golden Wind comes to a hover and begins beating at the flames with her wings. Down the line she goes, Regal doing the same at the other end. The fire rages hotter and higher, begins to speed toward the rampaging drogs.

  “That does it,” I call over to Alonya, “let’s go help the others with the Wilders.”

  Golden Wind and Regal speed toward the cliffside where the once-hidden Uhlan archers on the cliff top announce themselves with a thunderous volley of arrows that knock dozens of Wilders from their dragon seats.

  Still, Wilder dragons fill the sky like a black thundercloud and their arrows are scarlet arrows of death that rain down on the brave Uhlan.

  As Regal and the golden speed along, I catch Alonya twisting and turning in her seat, looking every which way. “Forget him,” I call up. “The Uhlan need our help more.”

  “The cowardly cur!” Alonya calls down. “Ran like a scared rabbit with a wolf on its tail.”

  I laugh to myself. “Cur seems to be a popular name tonight.”

  Then, Alonya and I are into the Wilders, her bow singing its death song while I swing Galondraig to my own tune. Red arrows flash by, barely missing but I don’t stop swinging as I know what will happen if we don’t turn the Wilders and drogs aside.

  Pausing to catch my breath, I lean over to peer below. Bodies of dead drogs pile up at the tunnel entrance, but the drogs, incensed by the smell of blood, pull them off and heave them to one side as wave upon wave of drogs push toward the entryway.

  My eyes catch three flaming balls that bounce from one Wilder to the next and where they touch, the Wilder dragon rider screams in pain and terror. The sprites’ movement is so random, so dizzying that though the Wilders try to bring them down with their deadly arrows, none come close.

  A flash, like red-hot lightning lights up the sky as Pim brings her lance to bear on a line of Wilders. Both riders and dragons are caught in the sizzling bolt. Wings are shredded sending dragons spiraling to the ground. Seared bodies are flung outward to slam into the ground.

  Marce and Borm on Wind Walker are a deadly double as their arrows find Wilder archer after archer. Helmar’s, Snag’s, and Cara’s bows thrum constantly, while Tavin and Amil fight dragon to dragon with sword and ax. Talia’s sea-dragon is a blue-green blur in the air and the bolts from her Wave Master take a heavy toll on the Wilders.

  But it’s not enough. Slowly, but inexorably the Wilders are pushing us back. First, just past the cliff top where the Uhlan are still giving a good account of themselves and then into the valley.

  I glance around, trying to spot Phigby but neither he nor Bold Wind is in sight. “Golden Wind, where are Phigby and Bold Wind?”

  “Preparing for their fight.”

  “Their fight?” I glance around again. “And just where is their fight?”

  “It’s coming.”

  “It’s coming? I don’t under—” I never finish my sentence as several Wilder arrows zip by so close that I can feel their wind against my face.

  “I suggest we move, get back in the fight.”

  “I suggest you’re right,” I growl as Golden Wind dips first to the right and then to the left to throw the archers off. A Wilder dragon appears right in front of us, its rider taking dead aim at Amil, who’s busy fighting sword to ax with another Wilder.

  “Ready, Hooper?”

  “Ready. Hold on, Scamp.”

  The golden picks up speed and at my, “Now!” flips over and tucks her wings. Galondraig flashes in the night and is met by a scream as the Wilder topples from his dragon.

  However, the golden doesn’t flip us upright, instead, she arches her back and we speed downward at an angle past one Wilder and then another, and then another. Three headless Wilder archers sit atop their dragons for a moment, unaware that they’re dead before they slowly topple over.

  We plunge downward but just before we hit the ground, the golden thrusts her wings out, flips us around and we zoom by so close to the trees that her talons snap off their tops.

  “Golden Wind, take us higher. I want to see what’s happening to the battle.”

  The golden points us upward and with sure, powerful wing thrusts takes us to where I can look down on the fight. At the tunnel’s entrance, the firestorm is edging closer to the horde of drogs and causing panic. Those in the back push forward, trying to get away from the flames while those in the front are barely making any headway into the passageway.

  “We’ve got the drogs bottled up,” I exult, to which Scamper twitches his little rump and chitters his agreement.

  Over the valley, it’s another story. The Wilders are getting closer to the Wind Catcher. The Uhlan archers and the company are in a desperate fight to hold them off, but the fact is, we’re losing. It won’t be long before the Wilders are close enough to unleash their dragon fire upon the Whisperer and the surrounding forest.

  Just then, from below, comes a triumphant bellowing and a roar from the drogs. “Oh no,” I say, “they’ve broken through.”

  Glancing around, I see Pim swing up from her attack, Wind Sparkle arcing high into the air, readying them for their next assault. “Golden Wind, get me to Pim!”

  The golden’s wings flash into action and we speed toward Pim and her sapphire. Pim must have seen us coming for she holds Sparkle in a hover awaiting our arrival.

  Golden Wind slams us to a stop and I point down. “The tunnel. The drogs are pouring into the tunnel! The Uhlan need help!”

  Pim doesn’t hesitate and sends Sparkle in a slashing dive downward. Golden Wind matches the sapphire wingbeat for wingbeat. The two dragons land with a hard thump! Pim and I slide off our dragons and hurry toward the tunnel. We reach the entrance just as a number of Uhlan appear out of the darkness, turn, kneel, and unleash a volley of arrows.

  Their bolts are met with screams and shrieks. The Uhlan notch more arrows and let loose. I spot Liam unleashing a shaft and hurry over to him. “Can you hold them?”

  “No!” he answers. “We’re too few, they’re too many.”

  I think for a moment and then order, “Get your men out. Go to the village, make your stand there.”

  “But—”

  “We’ll take care of the tunnel. Don’t worry, the drogs won't get into the valley.”

  Liam hesitates and then begins to shout orders to his remaining men. They let loose one last arrow and then bolt from the tunnel.

  “Pim,” I call, “one blast and then back to our dragons.”

  She nods, steps forward, levels the Lance of Gae deBuide and unleashes a savaging storm of lightning. Howls and shrieks meet its flames and then die to nothingness.

  We dash toward our dragons and as we scramb
le up to their neck saddles, I call, “How much do you have left in your lance?”

  She shakes her head at me. “I don’t know. I’ve never used it this much before.”

  “One last time,” I answer and point to the dark entryway. “Do you think you can bring down a mountain and seal that tunnel?”

  Pim turns, studies the cliff for a moment and then brings her lance to point upward just a bit. An instant later, there’s a stream of light so powerful and blinding that both Golden Wind and I have to turn our eyes away at first.

  The lance’s power blast is answered by a deep rumbling and by shielding my eyes, I watch as cracks appear in the dark cliff. They grow, spread, ripple upward and then, there’s a thunderous groaning as if the rock were splitting apart and then the whole cliff starts to crumble downward.

  “Let’s get out of here!” I yell. Pim’s lance goes silent as both the golden and Sparkle leap into the air. Giant blocks of rock begin to cascade down until with a loud groan, the whole cliffside caves in. Dark dust boils high into the air, covering us in a choking haze and I lose sight of Pim and Sparkle.

  The golden wings higher until we break free of the grit and powder. Moments later, Pim and Sparkle join us and I nod to her. “Good job, I think you did it.”

  Pim doesn’t answer, doesn’t look at me. Instead, she’s holding her lance with both hands, staring, her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide and in pain. “Pim!” I call. “What’s wrong?”

  She holds her lance up, appears ready to burst into tears. “It went dead on me,” she blurts out. “I think—I think I may have used up all its power.”

  I take in a deep breath and my shoulders slump. We need Pim’s lance and its power, especially now. I look down through the clearing dust. The tunnel entrance is buried under an enormous, jumbled pile of boulders. A few smaller rocks still tumble down, bouncing off the larger rocks until they hit bottom and roll to a stop.

  “Well,” I reply, my own voice heavy to match her despair, “for what it’s worth, I don’t think many drogs are going to walk out of there alive.”

  Pim still doesn’t answer, just stares at her lance. “Pim,” I call, “with or without your lance we need you back in the fight. Are you with me?”

  She lifts her head and nods slowly as she slips her lance into its leather carrier. “Still have a bow,” she replies.

  “Right,” I answer, “let’s go.”

  With that, we swing our dragons around and speed off toward the battle around the Whisperer. One look is all I need. “Golden Wind, we’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, Hooper, we’re in deep trouble. Look up, above the tree.”

  I raise my head and at what I see, my heart feels like it crashes to my toes. “So that’s why he disappeared, he went to get reinforcements.”

  Lowering itself out of some thin night clouds is an enormous scarlet dragon, several times the size of Regal Wind, and riding upon it is Talonda Kur, an evil leer splitting his face because he knows we have nothing with which to counter his monster.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The giant dragon is dropping straight toward the Wind Catcher and in an instant I know Talonda’s plan. He’s going to bring his beast’s raging dragon fire down upon the Whisperer. One blast from the behemoth and the wondrous tree will erupt in searing, mammoth flames.

  “Golden Wind, he’s going for the tree!”

  My first words are barely out of my mouth when Golden Wind springs forward in a burst of incredible speed. But it’s not enough and we’re too far away. I can see the behemoth start to open its mouth to unleash its torrent of dragon breath.

  Suddenly, from the far side of the enormous tree streaks Bold Wind and spurts straight up at the monstrous dragon. Phigby is holding up some sort of glowing shield to his front. “Phigby’s lost his mind!” I shout. “He’s going to try and stop that beast’s fire with that puny shield!”

  “Don’t be deceived by appearances, Hooper. Remember, even one tiny petal of dragon bane can kill a dragon.”

  A wave of Wilders breaks away from the main body and heads toward Phigby and Bold Wind. “Uh oh. Looks like some of the Wilders must have heard you. C’mon, we need to head them off and let Phigby do whatever Phigby is going to do.”

  Golden Wind wheels to the right and begins to climb, heading straight for the Wilder band. Two streaks of blue announce the arrival of Cara on Wind Song and Talia on Wave Rider. Though the wind is pushing at me, I point and yell out, “We’ve got to stop those Wilders before they get to Phigby!”

  The two give me a wave and hunker down as their sapphires push themselves to keep up with Golden Wind. The Wilders are closing on the unsuspecting Phigby but just as they draw a bead on him with their bows, we burst into their midst.

  Golden Wind knocks the lead Wilder out of the saddle with her rear talons, rolls over to one side and Galondraig slices through another Wilder, sending him screaming toward the ground.

  I can hear Talia’s Wave Master spit out a bolt that catches a Wilder archer just as Cara’s bow thrums from first one arrow and then a second. We’re in a whirling, swirling sky dance with the Wilders and scarlet darts zip to the right and left of me as the Wilders open fire.

  Golden Wind rams a big scarlet, sending it heeling over to one side as if the dragon were a ship broadsided by a massive wave. The Wilder archer can’t maintain his hold on his dragon and falls screaming to the ground.

  Golden Wind spins around and I jerk my head up to find Bold Wind and Phigby. They’re stopped, hovering midair as the giant crimson dragon descends on them, its eyes hungry as if it anticipates feasting on Phigby and Bold Wind.

  Phigby raises his shield a bit higher and on the wind, I hear,

  Shield of might, shield of right

  Join in the fight and stand aright

  Turn aside this evil blight with radiant light

  Ever so bright! Ever so bright!

  His voice strengthens until it fills the night as he bellows, Ljos Skjold Av Ljos!

  An explosion of light rips through the ebony gloom, turning the night into unexpected day and lighting up the whole valley from one end to the other. Phigby’s shield grows huge until it dwarfs Phigby, a ring of radiance brighter than the noonday sun.

  From the giant beast’s mouth issues an eruption of fire, a column of searing flames that shoot downward until it strikes Phigby’s enormous light shield. The blast of fire pushes Bold Wind and Phigby backward. Phigby struggles to stand against the enormous force that beats at him and slowly the roaring, lashing inferno drives them back toward the Whisperer.

  “Golden Wind, we’ve got to help him, he can’t hold.”

  The golden shoots forward until she’s just behind the radiant shield. She lowers her head and wings slowly up until her head is pressing against the massive disc. She beats her wings harder and harder but it’s not enough.

  “We’re still going backward!” I yell.

  Then, off to my right and left, two dragons, Wind Song, and Wave Rider, join Golden Wind and push back but it’s still not enough. Then Regal unites with us, and then Wind Glory and Sparkle, even the sprites press their little heads against the shield.

  Soon, it’s the whole company joined together to push against the monster’s seemingly inexhaustible supply of dragon fire. Wingbeat by wingbeat we slow the beast’s attack until finally it stops. It’s a stalemate. The question is—will the behemoth ever run out of fire?

  At a sudden thought, I jerk around and peer behind. The Wilders, who had withdrawn to some distance away at the appearance of Talonda and his enormous red, now stream back, and their intent is crystal clear.

  If Talonda’s beast can’t set the Whisperer on fire, they’ll accomplish the task.

  I whip my head back around, thinking feverishly of how we can counter them. A flash of silver off to my right catches my eye and a wild idea forms in my head.

  Leaning toward Talia, I yell and gesture toward the Wilders. “They’re going to set the tree on fire!” I
then point toward the towering waterfall and explain my idea.

  Talia’s eyes grow wider the more she listens to my notion. “Can you hold here long enough?” she asks.

  “No choice,” I answer, “we have to!”

  At that, Talia rolls Wave Rider away, passing just underneath the golden. “Golden Wind,” I call, “I’m sorry but can you take up the slack?”

  The golden doesn’t answer but immediately, I can feel her wingbeats grow more powerful, more forceful, stopping our backward slide. Her breaths become short, raspy. Her whole body heaves as she tries to suck in enough air to meet her needs. I know she can’t keep up this effort much longer.

  I peer to my left and just past Wind Glory is Phigby. In the shield’s light, I can see the strain on his face. “He can’t keep the shield up for much longer, he’s tiring quickly.”

  Off to my right, in the distance, I can see that Talia hasn’t quite reached the pounding flume of water. The golden is growing weaker, she’s close to complete exhaustion. “I’ve got to do something, now or we’ll lose everything.”

  A thought, a dire one, worms itself into my mind. It’s a gamble, a huge one, especially after my last encounter with Talonda. But one quick glance at Phigby, his gray face, his closed eyes, straining with every bit of will that he has convinces me that it must be done.

  “Golden Wind! Pull back, now!”

  “Can’t!” she rasps. “The others won’t be able to hold.”

  “They will long enough for the idea I have. Trust me.”

  At that, the golden snaps her wings against her body and we fall. “Get me to Talonda,” I growl. “If we can’t beat his dragon, we’ll beat him.”

  “You have a short memory, Hooper. Have you forgotten what happened last time?”

  “Haven’t forgotten,” I reply. “I just wasn’t mad enough, then. I am now.”

  We fall for a space until just before we hit the ground, the golden cups her wings, arcs to the right, and we slip under Phigby’s shield. “Good thinking,” I commend the golden, “Talonda won’t be looking this far down. Now get me up there.”