Seersha couldn’t save them. She was already running back across the rim of the bluff, having sighted the dragon moments earlier and knowing at once what it intended. But she wasn’t fast enough. She got there just after the ships went crashing earthward, decks and light sheaths afire. The Elves who were still able to do so were sliding down or leaping over the sides before they were consumed. Without pausing to consider whether it was wise or reasonable or even sane to do so, she attacked. Sweeping aside her black robes, she extended her tattooed arms, assumed her battle stance, and sent lines of magic hammering into the huge beast. Because it wasn’t looking at her, it wasn’t prepared. Confident that the worst of its enemies had been disabled, it was hovering midair, waiting for the ships defending the flanks of the Elven army along the valley rim to turn toward it.
But Seersha got to it first, and her blows knocked it sideways with such force that the Straken Lord almost lost his seat, and for a moment it appeared that the dragon would go down. It staggered wildly in mid-flight, its wings beating frantically to keep it aloft as it swung about to track the source of this unexpected assault. It spotted the Druid, the residue of her magic rising like steam into the air, and, banking sharply to avoid another strike, it began to climb skyward to mount a counterattack. Everyone surrounding Seersha had gone to ground, leaving her alone and exposed atop the valley rim. Even Sian Aresh had dropped away, although she hadn’t seen him go. But that was the way she preferred it. No one could help her now, in any case. She would have to face what was coming alone.
She didn’t have long to wait. Screaming in fury, the dragon dropped toward her like a stone, banking sharply left and right to confuse her. She struck out at it anyway but her strikes went wide each time, and then the dragon was on her. It tore into the earth as it tried to crush her, claws extended, ripping out great gouts of earth and rock as the Straken Lord urged it on.
But Seersha was already gone. Using magic, she slipped the attack like a ghost, momentarily disappearing until she was suddenly twenty feet away. The dragon swung about, but she had its measure now and her magic slammed into it once more, singeing its scaly body, burning away whole sections of armor.
Then the Straken Lord’s scepter came down, pointed toward her, and something hard and brutal caught hold of her, picked her up, and almost threw her off the clifftop. She only just managed to save herself by clutching at clumps of scrub grass as she was tumbling over the edge.
Seersha had lost all perspective. She was in full battle mode as she leapt back to her feet, her warrior blood and training fueling her response. She lashed out at the Straken Lord, nearly unseating him a second time. But the dragon was using its fire again, and she was forced to throw herself out of the way as the bluff around her went up in flames. The dragon lifted off, still breathing fire, trying to finish her. She fought back frantically, her magic shielding her, dispersing the flames. The dragon banked away, momentarily breaking off the attack, though its fire continued to fill a sky gone dark with smoke and ash.
She waited until it came back around, crouched low to the ground to make herself as small as she could manage, and hardened herself against what she knew the Straken Lord would do to her with that scepter if she carried out her plan.
She hesitated to be certain of her target as the dragon swung toward her, then lashed out with every particle of magic she could muster and struck the beast right in its closest eye.
The dragon roared in pain and fury, whipping its head from side to side in agony, the eye gone, blood streaming down its face. In the same instant, while all of her concentration was focused on the dragon, the magic of the Straken Lord’s scepter slammed into her, caught her up, and threw her away like a rag doll. It felt as if every bone in her body had been broken. A small portion of her magic had been diverted to protect her from the expected attack, but she knew at once it had not been enough.
She thought she was dead then. She lay where she was, her strength gone, her magic exhausted, fighting to get to her feet and unable to do so. But to her astonishment, no further attack came. The dragon was bucking and thrashing through the roiling smoke, unable to do anything to ease its pain, the loss of its eye so damaging that it could not, for the moment, manage to think of anything else. Though the Straken Lord fought hard to bring the beast under control, the dragon refused to respond.
In the end, Tael Riverine was forced to let the creature fly him back out into the relative safety of the Streleheim so that it could deal with its injury.
Seersha had just enough time to watch it disappear, then Elven Hunters were gathering all around and pulling her to safety.
Thirty