Princess Alastasia woke from the nap she had succumbed to. She sat up and looked around the elven camp and saw that most were still sleeping. As she sat quietly trying to wake up, she noticed that most of the missing were mages. She watched as two elven mages left the camp in the direction of the dragon’s resting place. She assumed that they were going to see if any further progress had been made. She rose and walked towards the nearest campfire to get something to eat. She noticed several other groups of mages rise and walk out of the camp. She looked for returning elves to get a progress report on the dragon, but none of the mages ever returned. Filled with curiosity, she put down her morning meal and left the camp to see for herself.
When she stepped into the large clearing, the elven princess halted in wonder. She saw Lyra kneeling next to Myka’s snout and Marak directly behind her with his hands on her shoulders. Surrounding the dragon and her two friends was a strange, mysterious glow. It was as if the three servants of Kaltara were encased in a magical, protective shield.
“This is strangely familiar,” StarWind commented.
Princess Alastasia turned and looked questioningly at the Sakovan spymaster.
“The same thing happened the day Lyra healed StormSong,” StarWind continued. “No one has ever been able to explain it to me. Much of what Lyra does is unexplainable.”
“But Marak was not there that day in the Sakova,” frowned Princess Alastasia. “What is he doing?”
“I am not sure,” responded StarWind, “but if I had to guess, I would say that he is feeding energy into Lyra. If so, he is wise indeed. After Lyra healed StormSong and the others, she was totally spent, both physically and mentally. He must know what she is doing and how it will affect her. I mean Myka is much larger than StormSong. It will take everything Lyra has to heal her.”
A look of sudden understanding came over the elven princess’s face as she nodded in agreement.
“You are wiser than you know,” chirped Princess Alastasia as she dashed away.
The Sakovan spymaster looked confused as the elven princess ran to a large group of elven mages. HawkShadow walked up behind Star Wind and hugged her.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I am just observing,” replied StarWind as she curiously watched the elven mages begin speaking excitedly. “I think MistyTrail is up to something.”
“What exactly is she up to?” asked the Sakovan assassin.
“I do not know,” admitted StarWind. “We will have to wait and see.”
They did not have long to wait. Princess Alastasia started giving orders to the elves, and the mages began gathering near the dragon’s snout. None of them touched the dragon, but hundreds of hands stretched out to touch Lyra and Marak. The Chula shamans who had also gathered to watch the strange glow must have understood what the elves were doing, because they quickly joined in, and the crowd surrounding Lyra and Marak grew until there was no more room for anyone to get near. The mages who could not personally reach the servants of Kaltara put their hands on the mages who could reach. Within moments, the strange glow spread across the whole crowd.
“They are joining in,” HawkShadow remarked. “I wonder what they are doing.”
“They are healing Lyra and Marak,” answered King Avalar as he walked up behind HawkShadow. “Those that cannot reach are healing the healers.”
“Shouldn’t you join them then?” asked StarWind.
“Not yet,” the elven king shook his head. “I do not know how long it will take for Lyra to do whatever it is she is doing, but there must be mages available to take the place of those who tire. I will form a second group to relieve the others as they grow weak.”
“So you do not know what Lyra is doing then?” asked HawkShadow.
“No,” King Avalar shook his head. “I have heard the stories of the day the Star of Sakova healed StormSong and the tent full of wounded, but I have no explanation for it. It is either a type of magic of which the elves have no comprehension, or it is something more than magic.”
“I believe it is prayer,” said a new voice.
Avalar and the Sakovans turned around and saw Rejji standing not far behind them. The Fakaran king walked forward and joined the group as they turned to stare at the mysterious glow, which was getting brighter by the minute.
“Only the power of Kaltara could account for what Lyra did in the Sakova,” the Astor continued.
“Will it work?” asked HawkShadow.
“Have you ever known Kaltara to fail?” the Astor grinned in response.
Several hours passed before the first mages began to falter from exhaustion. King Avalar immediately gathered replacement mages and began to make substitutions. It was shortly after the new mages had begun their healing that Myka’s eye sprang open. A communal gasp rose from the crowd as the dragon’s eye flicked back and forth, as if trying to determine where she was. Myka’s eye landed on Lyra and Marak, and a giant tear rolled down the dragon’s face and splattered on the two Kaltara servants when it struck the ground. Lyra and Marak opened their eyes and rose to their feet. The other mages backed slowly away, and the golden aura winked out of sight.
“How do you feel?” asked the Star of Sakova.
Smoke billowed out of the dragon’s nostrils, and her mouth opened wide to show long rows of sharp, giant teeth. Her tongue flicked out and gently pushed the Torak on the chest.
“Why did you jump?” Myka asked.
“I thought you would fight better without me,” admitted Marak. “I am sorry for leaving you. I will never cause you tears again. I promise.”
“What?” quipped the dragon. “Do not presume that tear was for the two of you saving my life. I just have a problem with my eye. In fact,” she grinned, “I think I may have human fingerprints on my eyelid. That must have been the problem.”
“It is good to have you back again,” grinned Marak. “How do you feel? Is everything working as it should?”
“She needs time,” interrupted Lyra.
The winged warrior looked around carefully before rising to her feet. The mages quickly moved back further as the giant dragon flexed her muscles.
“I have never felt better,” Myka declared. “I guess it helps having hundreds of personal healers. I owe all of you a debt of gratitude.”
“You owe us nothing,” smiled Lyra. “You are Kaltara’s gift to us. It is our duty to do what we can to keep you safe. Are you sure that everything is working well?”
Myka turned around in the clearing and belched long fingers of flame along the path of destruction.
“If everyone will give me some room,” answered Myka, “I will go aloft and find out.”
The mages scattered, taking shelter well away from the trail of broken trees. Lyra frowned and started to object, but Marak smiled and placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Let her do what she was born to do,” he said softly. “We must be sure that she is fit for battle.”
The dragon leaped into the air and soared into the sky. Marak raced for the edge of the forest as he kept his eyes skyward to observe the dragon in flight. He lost sight of her for a short time, but when he reached the plain he saw the dragon doing aerobatics above him. Myka noticed the lone figure below and swooped down on him. Flames preceded her arrival, and Marak felt their warmth. He knew that Myka wanted him to feel threatened, but he held his ground. He knew that Myka would never hurt him. The dragon landed gently in front of him.
“You did not even flinch,” Myka said with disappointment.
“I know you too well,” smiled the Torak.
“Not as well as you think you do,” retorted the dragon. “There is no need for you to feel as though you have failed me. Your jumping probably saved both of our lives, but I will not let you ride me again until the other three demons are defeated. I was wrong to endanger the Torak. I should have refused to take you up in the first place.”
“That is where you are wrong,” countered the Torak. “I am meant to use what Kaltara has offered me, and that includes you. You are my winged warrior.”
“Not while demons live and breath,” the dragon shook her massive head. “There are three of them left, and I will defeat them all.”
“We will defeat them all,” grinned the Torak. “We are a team.”
“We have been through this already,” replied Myka. “Your magic is useless against them.”
“That may be,” countered Marak, “but the Sword of Torak is not. You see,” he added, “I should have used it instead of jumping clear. Together we could have killed them without both of us nearly dying.”
“Your sword?” questioned the dragon. “You presume a great deal.”
“I presume nothing,” asserted Marak, “and it is not my sword. It is Kaltara’s sword. I tested it on the carcass of the last demon you killed. Lyra’s rapier works as well. Both sliced through the flesh of the carcass.”
“Amazing,” the stunned dragon said. “And together we failed to realize this?”
“Kaltara never said we were smart,” grinned the Torak.
The dragon bellowed with laughter and people gathered at the edge of the forest to see what was happening. Myka looked past Marak and saw the hundreds of faces watching with curiosity.
“How long have I postponed the battle?” she asked.
“Only a day,” answered Marak. “The good part about that is that Vand will think you are dead.”
“Not for long,” snarled Myka. “I still have work to do.”
“You do indeed,” nodded the Torak, “but not just yet. As soon as you show up, those three demons will come straight for you. Why not wait until Vand tries to use them for another task and take them by surprise?”
“I like surprises,” murmured the dragon, “but what difference will it make how we meet them? Why not circle the temple and dare them to come out and play?”
“Two demons nearly killed you,” answered Marak. “Why face three at once unless you have to?”
“Maybe they will come out one at a time,” posed the dragon.
“Possibly,” admitted Marak, “but that did not happen yesterday. I think Vand might have observed what happened to Barrok and made the other two join against you. If he finds out that you are alive, he will surely send all three at once. He will not allow their pride to interfere.”
“Alright,” conceded Myka. “How do you plan to separate them?”
“By giving him another reason to use the creatures,” answered the Khadoran Emperor. “You should rest here the remainder of the day while I send everyone else to their places. After they are gone, I will explain the plan to you.”
“That will give me time to find something to eat,” agreed the dragon. “I am famished.”
* * *
After the sun went down that night Rejji ordered the Fakaran horsemen to new locations. They were ordered not to light any new campfires, but they were not told the reason why. The free tribes were split in two with a large gap between their forces. The Jiadin were moved further to the south leaving another large gap in the eastern lines. Unseen by the Fakaran horsemen, or their horses, were four long columns of dark creatures moving slowly towards the Motangan defensive lines. Two columns of tyriks moved around the ends of the Fakarans. When they had crossed the desolate no man’s land, the tyriks began spinning their webs.
While the giant spiders were creating their fence around the skeletons, two more columns of tyriks passed through the two new gaps in the Fakaran lines. The new columns were meant to separate the skeleton creatures from the hellsoul warriors and the temple, leaving the entire skeleton army divided into two totally enclosed areas from which they could not escape.
While the outermost columns of tyriks proceeded unnoticed by anyone, the inner columns had to carve a path through the skeletons. The dead creatures swarmed to interdict the giant spiders, but their swords were useless. The tyriks batted the skeletons aside and spun webs to contain them. The skeletons could not cry out in alarm, but the tyriks eventually ran into Tzargo’s hellsouls. At first only the Motangan sentries noticed the large black shapes moving between them and the skeleton army. The tyriks quickly immobilized the sentries by injecting them with poison and then wrapping them in small webs and leaving them behind, but their stealth could not be maintained forever.
Shortly before dawn, someone noticed the immobilized sentries. Shouts rippled through the encampment and soon the entire Motangan camp was awake. Torches flared to life, and the shouts increased to a frenzied pitch as the tyriks were sighted. Most of the Motangan soldiers retreated towards the temple, but some of them attacked the tyriks believing that their multiple lives made them invincible. The attacking hellsouls slashed out with their swords, but the tyriks were hard to wound. The giant spiders turned on the attackers, spinning strands of web to encase the Motangans or injecting them with fast-acting, paralyzing poison. While the battle raged, the tyriks that had spun the outer webs turned inward to complete the task abandoned by the two inner columns.
Far above the battlefield, on the roof of the temple, Vand scowled into the predawn light with anger. Bolts of lightning streaked downward from his raised hands and burst into the clumps of tyriks. Some of the giant spiders suddenly exploded, the smoke from their burning carcasses curling up into the sky. As Vand screamed obscenities and continued casting murderous lightning bolts upon the spiders, Pakar and his twelve appeared on the roof.
“Join me in destroying the spiders,” shouted Emperor Vand, “but send one of your men to summon Zarapeto and the others. I want these beasts destroyed.”
Pakar directed one of his men to find the demons and return with them. He then directed the rest of his mages to attack the spiders. With thirteen mages attacking from above, the tyriks scurried to the east and to the west. While the tyriks could move quickly for short periods of time, they eventually had to slow down. That was the reason that Rejji had been moving his troops only a half day at a time. The tyriks could move no faster over long distances. The quick scurrying carried many of the tyriks beyond the range of the mages, but many more had died before they could get clear. Scores of burning hulks littered the ground and columns of rising smoke filled the sky obscuring the view from the roof.
“Our master calls?” Zarapeto’s deep voice boomed.
Vand spun around to face the three remaining demons.
“I want every one of those spiders killed,” ordered Emperor Vand as he pointed aimlessly at the battlefield and the retreating tyriks. “Do not let a single one of them escape. When the three of you have killed them all, join us in the throne room. I want the rest of our opponents destroyed today. I will determine what part each of us gets to enjoy.”
The Emperor did not wait for a response, as none was necessary. He marched across the roof and entered the temple. Pakar and his mages quickly followed, leaving the demons alone on the roof.
Zarapeto looked down from the roof at the fleeing tyriks. He grinned maliciously and pointed to a large group heading to the southeast.
“Xero,” he bellowed, “those are yours. Yunga, you get the ones going northeast. I will take the ones going to the west.”
“You are getting more than us,” accused Xero. “Trade with me.”
“I was summoned,” spat Zarapeto, “and I received the order. Do as you are told.”
Without giving the other demons a chance to argue, Zarapeto leaped into the air and sped westward. Yunga grunted with distaste and also took to the air to complete his task. Xero growled and spat at the retreating Zarapeto, but the other demon was already too far away. The acidic spittle fell to the ground and landed on a Motangan soldier who promptly screamed as the acid ate into his flesh. Xero grinned in appreciation and leaped into the air and headed to the southeast.
Far to the southeast, Emperor Marak sat on the dragon’s back. The slit in Myka’s scale that the Torak had used to house his knife no longer existed. It had been healed with the rest of the dragon, but that no longer mattered. The Torak had created a harness that would hold him in place on the dragon’s back. As he saw the three demons split up and begin attacking the retreating tyriks, he tested the harness and ordered Myka into the air.
“Place your sword along my body,” instructed the dragon. “Do not let Xero see it before we make our move.”
Myka flew low over the plain southeast of Vandegar. She kept an eye on the demon that was heading towards them, but Xero had not noticed the approaching threat yet. The demon was intent on killing the tyriks, and it felt quite invincible. As the dragon started to pass over the fleeing tyriks, Xero noticed her. The demon’s wings faltered for a heartbeat and its eyes blinked as if not believing what they were seeing.
“The demon has seen you,” announced Emperor Marak.
Myka did not need to respond as she had already begun to soar skyward. The dragon did not fly towards the approaching demon, but rather shot almost straight up as if she were trying to get above the creature without being seen. The demon hissed, its wings flapping furiously as it strove to cut off the dragon.
“You must act swiftly,” Myka warned softly. “You will recognize the moment.”
When the collision appeared imminent, the demon’s talons stretched outward towards the dragon. Myka tilted forward so that her body was parallel to the ground and then pulled her wings in tightly to her body. For barely a second the dragon seemed to hang in the air motionless. It was during that precise second that the demon screeched overhead. Marak swiftly raised the Sword of Torak and rent the creature’s underside.
Myka dropped like a rock, the ground hurrying upward at a dizzying rate. The dragon’s wings flared out to break the decent, and Marak’s body slammed against the dragon’s scales. Before Marak could even bounce back, Myka had banked sharply to reverse direction, her eyes scanning the sky in search of Xero. Black, acidic blood flowed out of the demon’s gashed body, but it had also turned around and was diving towards the dragon.
“My turn,” Myka declared. “Hold your sword high, and let Xero see what has caused its wound. That will be the distraction I need.”
As the two huge flying beasts approached one another at a frantic pace, Emperor Marak held the Sword of Torak high above him. The rising sun glinted off the sword, and Xero howled with vengeance. The demon set its eyes on the Torak and flapped it wings even faster. Just as Xero stretched its talons to shred the Torak, Myka increased her angle of ascent and snapped her jaws shut on the demon’s neck. The two behemoths collided roughly and began to fall as they struggled. For a short period, Marak was actually upside down, praying to Kaltara that the harness would hold, but the struggle ended quickly. Myka opened her mouth and let the body of the demon fall from the sky. The dragon swiftly righted herself and headed northward to engage Yunga.
“Are you alright?” asked Marak. “Do you need healing or a rest before the next demon?”
“I have never felt better,” grinned the dragon. “Yunga has seen us already, but Zarapeto has not. Let’s engage while the odds favor us. Hide your sword again.”
Yunga had already destroyed all of the tyriks in the northeast and had turned southward to help Xero. That is when the second demon had seen Xero fall from the jaws of the dragon. Yunga screeched loudly in alarm, but Zarapeto was too far to the west to hear it. Yunga had the choice of fleeing from the dragon or fighting it alone. The demon hissed menacingly and decided to fight.
“Same plan?” asked the Torak.
“No,” answered Myka. “Yunga knows that I have seen him. He will not fall for that ruse.”
“What is the plan then?” asked Marak.
“We improvise,” replied the dragon.
“You mean we have no plan?” Marak asked accusingly.
“That too,” Myka said defensively. “I will think of something. Have you never made up plans in the middle of a battle? Do you not fight on instincts alone sometimes?”
“I do,” admitted Marak, “but I try not to. It is always better to have a plan.”
“Stop whining,” chuckled Myka. “One of us will kill Yunga.”
Marak gripped his sword as the two giants raced head on towards each other. The demon came in fast and level, and once again it appeared as if they would collide. The Torak wondered which of them would turn away from the collision first. After a few more seconds, he believed that neither one of them would give up until they crashed into each other.
“Raise your sword,” Myka shouted urgently as her body suddenly rolled over.
At the last minute the dragon rolled upside down, just above the level of the charging demon. Marak hung upside down and shoved his sword downward at the demon. The impact of the demon’s head upon the blade nearly tore the Sword of Torak from his hands, but Marak maintained control of the weapon as it sliced the demon’s body open. Myka flipped in a loop to attack the demon from behind, but there was no need. Yunga’s body toppled downward and splattered on the ground.
“Incredible,” remarked Marak. “That was too easy. The Sword of Torak is indeed deadly against the demons.”
“Easy?” retorted the dragon. “Do you know what strength it takes to make that maneuver, not to mention the superb timing required to escape a deadly collision? Easy! What do you know?”
“I know that we make a great team,” the Torak grinned.
“We do, don’t we?” chuckled the dragon as she turned westward to engage the final demon in mortal combat.
Myka’s eyes scanned the sky looking for Zarapeto, but the demon was nowhere to be found. Unexpectedly, a bolt of lightning flashed in the clear sky and streaked towards the dragon. Myka immediately took evasive action by dropping and banking. The bolt of lightning flashed perilously close by and the dragon continued to fly erratically. More flashes lit the sky, and it appeared that several bolts were sizzling nearby instead of only one.
“Head south,” ordered the Torak. “There are mages on top of the temple. They are aiming for us.”
“I did not think it was a thunderstorm,” quipped the dragon as she dropped low to the ground and continued to zigzag in a southerly direction.
Myka intentionally flew over the skeleton army that was entrapped by the tyrik webs. She cackled with delight every time one of the bolts aimed at her smashed into the skeletons.
“Enjoying yourself?” quipped Marak. “If one of those lightning bolts hits us, we won’t find it humorous.”
“No human can forecast the path of a dragon,” retorted Myka. “Let them try.”
Suddenly, thirteen bolts rained down out of the sky directly in front of the dragon. Hundreds of skeletons flew into the air, and pieces of bone bounced off the dragon.
“And if they get lucky?” Marak asked nervously.
The dragon had no reply. She was too busy flapping her wings as fast as she could as she continued to zigzag towards the south.