Vranesh gave it no time to prepare — she hurtled straight at it, preceding her attack with a wall of crimson flame. The dragons collided in a blaze of mingled energy, lighting up the peaks in vivid, crimson-edged relief.
Vranesh powered through the inferno, raking out with her foreclaws, but the other dragon twisted away, doubling back on itself to escape the rush of talons. Liandra caught a fleeting glimpse of her opponent — an ivory-skinned druchii in torn robes. The sorceress looked emaciated, her staring eyes hollow with fatigue and deprivation.
They tumbled apart, each creature already coiling for the return. Vranesh was quicker, and managed to loose another gout of magma-hot flame before the abomination could bring its jaws around.
The blast hurt it — Liandra heard its screaming even over Vranesh’s frenzied roars — but the black dragon somehow pushed through the intense heat and loosed a barrage of its own. Vranesh plummeted, letting dragonfire shoot over her arching spine before thrusting back up for a bite at the enemy’s trailing tail. By then the abomination had powered away again, swinging about in mid-air and drawing in breath for a third fire-blast.
The speed of it, the intensity of it, the noise of it — was incredible. At first Liandra could do little more than hang on as Vranesh wheeled, bellowed and dived. Her counterpart seemed even more unsteady. Perhaps she was still new to the dragon; if so, that gave Liandra an edge.
In close, great one, she urged, regaining her balance and angling her staff for attack. The rider is the weakness.
Vranesh hardly needed telling. The dragon shot forwards, tail flicking out and her wings slamming back. As the enemy raced in close, Liandra unleashed her art.
‘Malamayna elitha terayas!’ she cried, feeling her staff shudder as lightning crackled out from its tip.
Golden aethyr-fire shattered across the abomination’s mottled hide, showering both creatures in clouds of stinking black blood. The beast screamed again, this time with genuine excruciation, and launched itself directly at Liandra, evading Vranesh’s jaws and aiming to pluck her clean from her mount.
Vranesh was equal to the move, plunging down again and rolling away, but only just — Liandra had to throw herself to one side to evade the talons before Vranesh pulled them both out of danger.
Again, Liandra commanded, pushing singed hair from her face and righting herself for a second pass. Her heart was thumping, her eyes shining. The mountains wheeled and swung below them, lit by the angry glow of the dawn sun. Vranesh swooped, angling her attack to scrape across the abomination’s wings.
Then Liandra felt it: a sudden plunge of pain in her spine, as if a metal bolt had been hammered in. Vranesh sensed it and tried to pull out at the last moment, but it was too late. As if forewarned, the black dragon pounced, ripping its foreclaws across Vranesh’s extended neck.
Liandra reeled, feeling herself go dizzy. The abomination made the most of the confusion, tearing and clawing, trying to bring its ragged maw to bear.
Her vision swimming, it was all Liandra could do to summon a fresh brace of lightning-bolts and hurl them into the monster’s face. That knocked it back, giving Vranesh the chance to pull out of the attack.
The witch, sang the dragon.
No, gasped Liandra, tottering in her seat and peering down at the mountains below. From the earth.
Vranesh immediately plunged towards the horizon, blood trailing behind her in a long stream. Liandra could feel the depth of the wound in the dragon’s neck as clearly as she felt the pain in her own body.
Forcing herself to concentrate, she scoured the landscape below. Rocky crags sped by beneath them, snow-crowned and empty. She could hear the wheezing breath of the dragon racing after them and ignored it.
She is not alone, Liandra sang, gaspingly. She drew us here.
We must withdraw.
No! The vehemence of her denial surprised even her. This is the chance — I will not lose it.
Even as she sang the words she saw them — two robed figures standing on the very lip of a high crag below them, each one chanting, their staffs running with black-purple illumination.
Vranesh thrust towards them immediately, corkscrewing and undulating to avoid the abomination’s pursuing fire. Liandra felt fresh stabs of pure pain explode within her and fought to maintain consciousness. Her staff felt impossibly heavy in her hand, and an almost overwhelming urge came over her to let it fall away.
Fight it! sang Vranesh, bucking hard to her left to evade a spitting column of dragonfire.
Liandra gritted her teeth, feeling sweat sluice down the nape of her neck. Her hands shook as she summoned aethyr-fire back to her.
You are a daughter of Isha, she recited to herself as the edge of the crag raced towards her. You are a daughter of Isha.
She could see their faces now — two druchii sorcerers, one male, one female, each bedecked in tongues of dark fire. At the last minute, faced with the crimson hurricane of fire and flesh barrelling towards them, they broke, sprinting back along the crag-top and seeking shelter.
The sudden cessation of their pain-magic revived Liandra. Her staff sprang back to life, shimmering with pent-up golden fire.
‘Asuryan!’ she cried aloud, swinging her staff around her head before hurling its tip in the direction of the fleeing sorcerers.
The air shook as the fire blazed free, streaking after the druchii and detonating around them in a hard crack. The entire crag-top exploded in a roar of shattering stone.
Vranesh pulled up at the last moment, claws scrabbling through the breaking summit. With an echoing boom the crag began to collapse, dragging whole chunks of slush and granite down the far side. Liandra swayed in her seat as Vranesh’s momentum carried them both over. The pain had gone, but the abomination was still hurtling after them, snarling close on Vranesh’s tail.
Did we get them? she asked, twisting her head to catch sight of the sorceress — she could smell and hear the dragon but no longer see it.
Vranesh didn’t reply. Her huge breaths were strained. A hot aroma of burned copper rose from her torn neck-scales as she thrust up skywards, more laboured than before.
Then Liandra caught sight of the enemy, still close but hovering forty feet clear, strangely indecisive, as if the loss of the sorcerers had given its rider doubtful pause.
Liandra’s eyes narrowed. She crouched low across Vranesh’s straining shoulders, her staff still rippling with power.
Now we take her, she snarled.
Chapter Sixteen
‘You have given us nothing!’ accused Grondil, flecks of spittle flying. ‘You say you do not think of us as fools. Well, you have a strange way of showing it.’
Caradryel watched the dwarf lord rage. The display was impressive, full of the red-cheeked, fist-slamming bravado the dwarfs employed when they wished to get a point across. Grondil had stood up to speak, though the difference in height, as far as Caradryel could see, was slight.
Caradryel glanced over at Imladrik, sitting calmly waiting for the tirade to finish.
‘What would you have me do?’ Imladrik replied. ‘Summon the druchii before you?’
Grondil glowered. ‘It would be a start.’
‘Enough,’ muttered Morgrim irritably. ‘You have made your point.’
Grondil glared at Morgrim for a moment. Then, grudgingly, he sat down again.