Screeches of frustration soon follow, as the dictates of the summons will not allow them to alter course to intercept the oncoming Volastoque. Once again, he sends a message out that they not struggle against the summons.
His group reaches the valley first; he can see the Shaman of the blue crystals lining the northeast ridges of the valley as he loops into a gentle circle. The oncoming Volastoque are soon within range of their blue beams and Yalkin grimaces in satisfaction as they begin to blast the arriving creatures.
Many of the battered dragons within the oncoming wave flutter groundward as they arrive. He can see they have sustained injuries. He takes a deep breath and ignites his battle flames. Adrenalin rush fills him and he attacks, determined to do his part to eradicate the loathsome creatures.
Chapter 30
Maru glides close beside Aura, his heart aching at the way she struggles to maintain flight. His mind whirls, trying to understand. What is this compulsion that seized him, and Aura, to cease battle and fly along with these creatures? Ahead, the blue of the defense Shaman’s rays streak toward the leading Volastoque and they crumple groundward. An ambush!
“Aura, my love, thou must only make it a bit farther. The call comes from our Shaman allies. Look! Reinforcements are just over the next rise. We have a chance against this horde!”
Aura’s Mindspeak is barely above a whisper when she replies, “Thank the Lady. I do not think I can make it much farther.”
Together, they clear the last ridge and, as the compulsion fades, Aura flutters to the ground. Maru turns and engages with the Volastoque closest to him. The creature, still under the compulsion, is dispatched quickly. Maru sends it crashing into the crags below and turns his battle flames on another.
The battle challenges of dragons fill the air as reinforcements enter the fray from across the valley. Maru maintains a position slightly to the north and above Aura.
Rejack, his sides smeared with blood, darts in to Maru’s left. “I shall help thee keep them off Aura.”
“My thanks, Rejack.” Maru manages to engulf two of the creatures in one blast as they release from the summons. He turns his gaze upon the bronze. “My friend, thy brother’s mate fell in battle shortly before the summons.”
Rejack’s eyes shadow with sorrow, then his head jerks high and rage seethes from the bronze dragon. “She fought for her eggs’ future. Let us see that they have one, by killing as many as these foul beasts as we may, before we join Kilita on her journey to the Lady.”
Aura’s voice, weak and barely above a whisper in his mind, comes to Maru. “My love, there are so many. If we do not stop them here, I fear all is lost.”
Maru picks out his next target among the horde. His mate is correct. Though he and Rejack, along with the other dragons and the defense Shamans with their blue rays, are slaughtering the beasts by the score, the wave of creatures seems never ending. And many escape the initial assault as they are released from the summons. Behind him he can see numerous Volastoque deploy in battle.
His wings ache, exhaustion setting in to slow his efforts, when the last of the creatures arrive. Rejack turns and delves into the teeming swarm that engages over the valley. A sharp, static crackle ripples across the sky. A screech of astonishment rips from Maru’s throat when a red-tinged field arcs across the enormous battlefield. It encases them within a pulsing, translucent dome.
Close-by, a Volastoque, fleeing from Rejack, smashes into the barrier. Its wail pierces the air as it flails in agony. The sound cuts off abruptly as Rejack’s flame blasts and kills the creature. Understanding dawns on Maru. They, and the creatures, are sealed in. The barrier will contain the creatures and dragons until one or the other of the forces is annihilated.
~!~
“What do you mean? How can every transport Shaman be gone?” Geramn shakes his head, thrusting his hand toward the assembled Healers and Healer apprentices. “We have to be taken to the battle grounds, or as close as possible. Every moment wasted could cost the life of a dragon or Shaman injured in the battle.”
Headman Kiltem’s brow furrows above his brown eyes. “I only know they are no longer here. All were needed, I suppose.”
Geramn takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. “Yes, they are needed here! How can we make contact to get one or more here to transport us where we need to be?”
Kiltem’s bald head shakes. “I do not know. Perhaps a few of you can be taken by the dragons?”
Geramn practically bites his tongue to keep from screaming at the Headman. “Nor Kiltem, do you see any dragons?”
The elder’s bald head swivels on his long neck as he peers around. “No, that is strange. I do not. Where have our sentry dragons gotten off to?”
“By the Lady! I have been trying to tell you for over an hour that the dragons and the Shaman are all gone.” Geramn presses a finger and his thumb upon his eyelids. He takes a deep breath, then counts to ten, slowly exhaling. “Fine. Which way did the Shaman and dragons go? Which way to the battle field?”
Kiltem points a gnarled hand across the valley, well past the lake, indicating a pass. “They are in that general direction. I know not exactly where.”
“You have horses we can use?”
“Of course, I will see some are sent.” Kiltem turns and moves slowly across the cobblestone courtyard to the Burick Lake Cavern entrance.
Geramn tries to release his frustration and hurries to the other Healers. “Healer Derness.”
Derness looks up from a table she arranges with medical supplies. “Yes, Nor Geramn?”
“I shall take three Healers and six apprentices. We are going to see if we can locate the battlegrounds.” He waves a hand across the lake. “Headman Kiltem was not much help, but he did say the dragons left in that direction.”
Derness straightens and, pressing her hand to the small of her back, she grimaces. She stretches, and then pushes her long black hair back from her eyes. “How will you find them?”
Geramn gives her a sad smile. “By the cries of pain and the clamor of battle.”
Her brown eyes widen and she covers her mouth with one hand.
Geramn shakes his head. “My apologies. I speak too bluntly to one who has not experienced battlefields before.”
“No, no it is fine.” Derness drops her hand to lay it upon a pile of supplies. “What do you want me to do?”
“Just as you have been. Prepare for incoming causalities. We will triage them in the field and have them transported to you.” Geramn turns at a clatter of feet behind him.
“Healer Geramn.” Elish runs up, slightly out of breath. “There is an injured transport Shaman in the Healer’s chamber in the cavern. Perhaps he can help?”
Geramn smiles at the lad. “Good thinking, Elish.” He turns back to Derness. “When the horses arrive, see supplies are loaded and get the Healers and apprentices that will accompany me ready.”
She nods and Geramn moves rapidly toward the cavern entrance, Elish jogging along beside him.
“Nor Geramn, you will take me with you, will you not?”
Geramn glances at the earnest expression on Elish’s face and curbs his quick denial. “Lad, it is no place for a youngster.”
Elish frowns, his eyes taking on a hard cast. “I am a Healer apprentice; you said you shall take six apprentices.”
“Yes, but the older men.”
“Nor Geramn. You yourself have stated my ability is stronger than most of apprentices.”
Geramn pauses in the corridor and turns to face the boy. “Yes, your talent is not in question; do not think that, Elish.”
“Then I humbly request you treat me as any other apprentice. You need the more talented at the triage site, take me along.”
“It is not something I would wish on a young man.”
“You did not; it is I who approached you, I who sought to become a Healer.”
Geramn turns and continues down the passageway. “You can remain here and work with Healer Derness, she will
need all the help she can get to work with the incoming injured. I would not place you in a position of greater risk.”
Elish hurries along beside him. “You have said a Healer must accept risk in these trying times.”
“I know—”
“Healer Geramn, I risk less than you do. I have no mate, no children, and no parents to mourn my passing.”
“Nonsense, you have become like a son to me and Sheina.”
“All the more reason I should be with you.”
Geramn slows at the arch entrance to the Healers’ chamber. “Sheina would never forgive me should you come to harm.”
“As if she would be pleased if something happens to you? We can keep an eye on each other, for her.”
“Alright, Elish, you may accompany me. May the Lady keep us both from harm.” He glances in the chamber. “Where is this injured transport Shaman?”
Elish gestures to the right side of the chamber. “I am told his injury is severe, he may not survive.”
Geramn reaches the Shaman’s bedside to see the man is barely alive. Undoubtedly a transport error, the lower legs of the man are simply gone, sheared off just above his knees. Geramn kneels beside the bed and takes the man’s hand. “Nor, I am sorry to trouble you. However, can you tell me where the dragons go to battle?”
The man opens his eyes and takes a moment to focus on Geramn. “Two valleys past the lake. They have set up the defensive shield Shaman and those with the blue rays there. The Shaman of the yellow crystal should have completed the summons by now.”
“Summons?” Geramn gives the hand he holds a gentle squeeze as the injured Shaman begins to drift.
The Shaman’s dark eyes jerk open and meet Geramn’s gaze. “The summons to bring them all, dragons and beasts.” He moans and his eyes flutter closed.
“Why would they do that?” Geramn waits a moment, but it is obvious the man has fallen unconscious. He places the hand gently down on the sleeping platform and takes a moment to pray to the Lady on this Shaman’s behalf.
Geramn rises and rushes Elish along and they soon return to the courtyard, where Healer Derness has the horses packed and ready, the Shaman and apprentices who will accompany them standing ready beside the horses.
They mount and, in a clatter of hooves, they are off. The terrain passes in a blur to Geramn, his only focus to arrive in time to be able to save those in need. They clear the ridge of the first valley and rush toward the second. His hands chill on the reins and he takes one hand at a time to cup and blow his breath upon it to warm his fingers. Around him the Healers and apprentices hunch down upon their mounts, their faces stoic in the frosty wind.
As they near the end of the second valley, a red glow fills the late-evening sky. Geramn glances to his left, where the sun sits low on the horizon. By the Lady, what causes that glow? He draws rein and his horse slows to a trot.
He turns in his saddle to address the others, “Steady and slow. We need to approach with caution.”
“What is that?” Elish calls from a short distance behind him.
“I know not, so best we keep to some cover as we approach.” Geramn surveys the landscape before him. He spots a formation of rock jutting from the ridge upon which they ride. “There, let us take the horses there and approach on foot.”
A low crackle fills the air as they approach the rocks. Geramn dismounts and motions for the others to do the same. They secure the horses and step with trepidation around the formation.
~!~
A Volastoque slams to the ground fifty strides away and Shaman Hern staggers when the ground heaves. The enclosed valley reeks of burning flesh while the air reverberates with screeches of the injured and dying, human, dragon, and the beasts alike. He draws a sharp breath through his teeth, air foul from smoke and ripe with noxious odors.
Coughing, Hern peers above where four Volastoque swirl like moths around an orange dragon. They harry the exhausted dragon who rips at them with claws and teeth. Hern flinches as a large, unidentifiable mass of flesh splatters on the ground close by.
The grey-eyed, thin Shaman hides her face in her hands and wails. He moves beside her and places a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she jerks away, her eyes wild. “Get us out of here. By the Lady, we are doomed, where are the transport Shaman?”
“Calm thyself. It will all be over soon,” Hern chokes out as he searches the sky enclosed by the defensive field. His body trembles with fatigue, drained from the summoning, yet he forces his leaden legs to climb a small rise adjacent to where the Shaman of the yellow crystal gather.
When he reaches the top of the small hill, he collapses to lean against a large rock and once again peers upward to see how the dragons fare. His shoulders slump and his trembling hands clench against the rough surface of the stone. The numbers of Volastoque are diminished, yet the dragons dwindle to less than a score still in the air doing battle. Fewer and fewer of the defensive Shaman’s blue rays cut across the sky, as they too are killed by the creatures. This tide will not turn. He takes a deep, quivering breath and utters his last prayer to the Lady that they have understood Her guidance in the prophecies.
Motioning to a transport Shaman who stands off to one side of the hill, he calls him over. “Go, tell them to send the signal.”
The young man’s eyes fly wide and he swallows hard, then tugs on his forelock. “Yes, Nor.” His face is pale as he transports away.
Hern stumbles down the hill and settles beside the fire. His old bones ache as he extends his hands over the flames. He calms his mind and tries to bring forth memories, but he cannot. Instead he focuses on his hope for the future. A future where Volastoque will plague the Palmir People no more. A soft smile forms on his lips as a sharp buzz fills the air and the dome arching above them brightens, casting crimson light across the entire valley floor.
Chapter 31
Estrola falters in her flight as the compulsion abruptly shuts off. “By the Lady, we are late.”
Beneath her Belnarth shouts, “Not a bad thing, was that not the call to this final battle your dragon elders agreed to?”
Estrola peers down at the Shaman she clutches in her fore-talons. “Thou does not understand, to not fulfill this part of the prophecy may very well lead to the loss of the second part. The part that shows the Volastoque vanquished.”
Her flight clears a ridge and in front of them an immense, pulsing red dome encloses a valley. Bright blue rays and flashes of dragon fire can be seen through the semi-opaque shield. Muffled shrieks and dragons bugling challenges emit from the dome, causing puffs of smoke to furl from her nostrils as Estrola’s battle fires ignite.
“Estrola, to your right!” Belnarth yells.
She jerks her head around to see three Volastoque darting toward her. So they are not the only ones late. Two barbs streak across the sky from her attackers; she twists, and manages to evade the barbs. She frantically searches below for a place to drop off Belnarth.
The crags below offer no opportunity to do so; he will have to remain with her through this battle. “Hold on, if thou can, Belnarth, I shall do what I can to keep thee safe.”
She brings him snug against her chest and swings to face the oncoming beasts. Her battle flames arc across the encroaching distance and set the nearest beast’s wings aflame. Killer Frost blasts across her back from the second beast as the third closes, his claws reaching for her wings.
She writhes in the air, desperate to evade the Volastoque reaching for her wings. Pain slashes across her right wing as the beast rakes his claws across the tips. Her breath hisses through her teeth as she forces the damaged wing downward in a hard thrust to roll away from the creature.
The beast screams in rage, its claws scrambling along her scales as it tries to grasp her wing. It manages to snag a tenuous grip on her hind leg, its serrated teeth shredding flesh. Estrola jerks the limb tight against her body and her long neck swings around. She manages to bite the beast, her teeth puncturing through its neck. She shakes her head, r
ipping the creature free from her leg.
Belnarth shrieks as the Volastoque slams against him when she tears it free.
No sooner has she flung the creature from her, than the last remaining beast darts in. It bites her at the base of her skull, gnashing its serrated teeth to penetrate deeply. Blood pours down her neck and smears across her eyes as she thrashes, trying to break free.
A resounding pop and searing pain, and she is free.
Estrola labors to remain airborne as she draws in a deep breath. She searches the sky around them. There, the beast is below her to the left. Her battle flames surge with a harsh exhale and she pours the flames across the Volastoque.
The beast’s death wail reverberates in her ears, and still she does not stop the flames. Only when it has crashed to the ground, a smoldering, shapeless mass, does she allow her battle flames to extinguish.
Dizzy, barely able to see for the blood in her eyes, she peers around to make sure there are no more Volastoque. The skies around the shimmering dome are empty, except for a few sparse clouds.
“Belnarth.” Estrola pants and slowly lifts the Shaman to eye level. “Belnarth, can thou hear me?”
Belnarth dangles, apparently lifeless in her left fore-talon. A sob wretches from her throat. She reaches with her right talon and eases his head into a more upright position. “Belnarth. Oh, by the Lady, please… Please, Belnarth.”
“Stop, Estrola, for I cannot bear to hear you cry.” Belnarth’s right eye opens and he weakly lifts a hand to pat her talon. “How bad are you hurt?”
“I cannot fly much farther, and I am afraid to land here. I am not sure more of those creatures will yet show up.”
“Land,” Belnarth forces out between moans of pain. “I shall transport us to the Healers.”
“Thou should indeed transport us. But to the cavern where we left the eggs.”
“No, Estrola, we will not survive if we do not get in front of a Healer soon.”
Estrola’s heart melts as she gazes into his eyes. “We are not supposed to.”
“I will not listen to this foolish plan to sacrifice all for a potential future.”
“My dear friend. We took a vow and thy leaders and mine have chosen this course. Please. Please take us where we can place those last eggs in stasis. Our lives are already forfeit. Those eggs need not be.”
Dragon Nemesis Page 25