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"For Catrin!" Chase roared, and those around him rallied, many smoking and limping as they pulled themselves from the ground. The darkness was undeterred, and a flood of demons clogged the valley, the dragons protecting their flanks. More people streamed down the stairs with Catrin among them, warding off attacks from the air. She could not guard the people and Kyrien at the same time, which left Chase and his men vulnerable. The sight of Morif leaning on Kyrien with a spear in his hand did much to bolster Chase's morale; at least his old friend was not dead.

Thunder rolled through the valley, though no rain fell, and the skies were now clear. Webs of light arced overhead, and Chase could not look up for fear of losing what night vision he possessed. If he had looked up, he would have seen the massive black dragon bearing down on him. Instead, he was caught completely by surprise when what looked like a tree trunk slammed into him. The air rushed from his chest in a whoosh, and he flew backward. For a time he watched the battle rush away from him, but then his feet struck something.

The world spun wildly.

Darkness.

Catrin watched a dragon tuck its wings and dive, aiming for Chase, and she screamed, lashing out with more energy than she could control. Lightning struck the dragon and caused it to veer and land only a glancing blow on Chase. Still, her cousin's body tumbled through the air. The out-of-control blast also struck people around her, and just as Catrin hastily released the energy, it recoiled. The concussion sent those around her sprawling, and she fell to her knees, no longer in full control of her limbs. Before her was the most frightening thing she'd ever seen: the eyes of a feral dragon rising over a ledge. The beast clung to the rock and seemed to sense an opportunity. Gathering herself and trying to stand, Catrin prepared for the strike. One snap of its massive jaws, and she would be dead. At least it would be fast, she thought.

A high-pitched battle cry echoed sharply, and Khenna leaped across the gap. The fighter landed between the beast's eyes and sent a kick at one eye. The dragon blinked just in time, and its thick skin rendered the attack ineffectual, but then Khenna did something that stole Catrin's breath. Before the dragon could spring into the air, the woman took a coil of leather from her belt, held one end in each hand, and looped it over the dragon's snout. Had it made it under the lower jaw, Khenna might have been saved, but instead the leather strap only cleared the top jaw. The dragon bit down hard and leaped into the air. It turned and dived toward the valley floor. For a moment, Khenna stood tall, the wind whipping her hair and clothes. Catrin thought she might be able to stay upright, but then the dragon bit down again, and the strap snapped, one side breaking free and the other wedged between massive incisors. Khenna tried to catch her balance atop the head of a flying dragon, and for a moment she did, but in the next breath, she was tossed in the wind, still tethered to the dragon by the strap that was now twisted around her ankle. As Catrin watched in horror, they disappeared into the darkness.

There was no time to mourn Khenna as more dragons entered the fray. Far too many landed blows on Kyrien's still form. Catrin reached out to him, lending him energy she did not possess. Guilt washed over her as she pulled energy from those around her, making her nothing more than a leech. Disgusted, she nearly vomited, but then Kyrien flooded her mind.

They give their energy freely. They try in vain to aid me. You are simply focusing what they are unable to give. Do not run them dry, and you will have done no harm. Do what you must; just do not do too much. This is more important than you know.

At that moment she could not imagine anything more important than saving Kyrien and her people, but his thoughts left her weighted with responsibility. Though she knew not exactly what hung in the balance, she knew that it was partly hers to protect. Breathing deeply, she drew the energy and lashed out. Demon and dragon alike felt the fury of her wrath, and the darkness receded like twilight chased by the dawn. Slowly, gradually, they faded until only the cries of the dying filled the air.

When Catrin finally made it to the bottom of the stair, she fell to one side, unable to stand on her own without the aid of the railing. A man she didn't recognize caught her.

His eyes went wide, and she thought he might faint, but he stammered, "Are you. . I mean. . are you all right, Lady Catrin?"

"Almost," she said as another wave of dizziness overwhelmed her.

The man tightened his grip and kept her upright. "I need some help here! Need help for the Herald," he called out, and even in the chaos, people rushed to her aid.

From above came Millie's voice. "You're not going to die on me today, no you're not! Get some blankets around her before she freezes t'death."

Men scrambled to find something, and finally a man wrapped Catrin in a warm coat. In truth the cool air felt refreshing, but Catrin could not seem to find her voice. Her body trembled and her legs refused to support her. She continued to lean on the man whose name she did not know.

"You there," Millie instructed, "get some men and prepare a litter for Lady Catrin."

"That won't be necessary, Millie," Catrin said. "I'll be staying here with Kyrien."

Millie looked as if she would balk. A moment later she sighed. "Get up there and bring back blankets, tents, cots, everything we'll need for an infirmary. Tell Mirta we need all the bandages, stitching thread, and needles."

Wobbling, Catrin was grateful for Millie's efforts. She needed a place to sit down, but there were far more important tasks at hand, not the least of which was tending to the wounded. From the southern part of the valley, the silhouette of a man shambled toward them. A shout arose from men closer to that area, and Catrin felt an incredible sense of relief when someone said it was Chase. It was clear that he was injured, but she knew he was strong.

As the sun rose, the carnage became apparent, and guards were assigned the grisly duty of burying the dead and burning the bodies of the demons. When Catrin looked upon the demons, she found herself reminded of the Gholgi, yet these creatures were very different from what she remembered. Instead of lumbering brutes, these demons possessed delicate fingers and crude armor. The beasts she had encountered years before had seemed much more like wild animals. Bile rose in her throat as the wind shifted and the smell of death drifted around her.

Though her body screamed out for rest, she made herself stay awake. "Take me closer to Kyrien," she said.

"Are you certain that's wise, m'lady?"

"Wise or not, please do as I say," Catrin said, driven by need; everything she loved was at stake.

"Yes, m'lady."

"What's your name?"

"I'm Zander, m'lady."

"You may call me Catrin, Zander, and I'm sorry I didn't recognize you."

"Yes, m- uh, Catrin."

"You make toys, do you not?"

"I do."

"Sinjin loves your puzzles. Thank you, Zander," she said, laying her hand on his shoulder.

The man looked thunderstruck and did not respond. Catrin urged him toward Kyrien. With the exception of his breathing, which was short and shallow, the dragon appeared to be dead, and Catrin worried about him and Prios. When she placed her hands on him, she was transported to the astral plane, assisted by some natural ability inherent in regent dragons. She rode a dragon of flame and lightning, gouts of fire ready to be hurled at their enemies. While the battle in the physical plane had ended, there was still fighting on the astral plane, and it was worse than what Catrin had left behind.