Thank the gods, she caught it by the hilt and not the blade.
An instant after her fingers wrapped around it, Shulina Arya pulled up. Even with her magic holding Rysha on her back, Rysha felt the tug of the force pulling at her, and she marveled that she wasn’t hurled from the dragon’s back—or torn into dozens of pieces. She also marveled that she managed to keep hold of Dorfindral’s hilt. It hummed in her hand, and she imagined she felt reproach in that hum.
A giant splat sounded, water droplets spraying the side of Rysha’s face. The other gold dragon had struck down into the ocean, less than a dozen feet away. It wasn’t moving. Its wings and tail splayed outward, and it started to sink.
Shulina Arya issued the mental equivalent of an indignant—or smug?—sniff. That dragon will not nip at my hindquarters again.
I’m glad, Rysha thought as they flew upward again, turning north toward the city. Did you learn anything from questioning him?
Yes. It is as you feared. The dragons here are enacting two plans. First, they wish to force your king to sign a document giving them part of your country. They believe that humans put much worth in such papers and will abide by them. Second, they wish to rid your country of all the deplorable dragon-slaying swords it has recently acquired.
Rysha didn’t point out that one of those swords had just helped Shulina Arya defeat another gold dragon. She was too worried about the rest of the statement.
Some of our people are heading in to deal with those other dragons right now, Rysha said.
Yes, they are walking into a trap.
We need to go help.
I am flying that way, Storyteller, but there is another threat which we must be concerned with.
The silver dragons Bhrava Saruth and the pilots are fighting? Rysha leaned out to peer past Shulina Arya’s head as they flew toward the city and its harbor. She saw some of the fliers they had outpaced when they’d been chasing after the gold, but she couldn’t yet see the other dragons.
No, the pilots are harrying one silver, and Bhrava Saruth is dunking another one in the water repeatedly and telling him to yield, that his life is empty and meaningless because he does not know the joy of being loved and worshipped. He is a very quirky dragon.
I’ve noticed.
My parents have forbidden him to court me.
Er, has he asked them?
Not in such a polite and honorable way. He suggested to Wyleenesh that there would be room for a carving of me in his temple and that we might rule over his human worshippers together.
Dozens of questions jumped into Rysha’s mind, but she forced them down. She had more pressing concerns right now than whether or not that was how dragons attempted to establish relationships.
If not the silver dragons, what’s the new threat?
Remember how your mate and I sensed another dragon far out to sea?
Yes.
He is a very old and powerful dragon, a contemporary of your mate’s sire. Bhrava Saruth recognized him and said his name is Drysaleskar and that he was one of the elders back when dragons ruled this world before.
Rysha thought about pointing out that dragons hadn’t technically ruled the world, at least not from the human point of view, but that wasn’t important. Please don’t tell me he’s coming this way.
He is.
You better tell Trip. Do you think we can beat this new dragon in battle?
Rysha had mostly heard youthful bravado from Shulina Arya so far, so she didn’t expect the answer she got.
No.
Trip and Azarwrath, still levitating over the empty space where the floor had been, used their power to push aside the rubble that had buried the entrance to the stairwell. Trip worked as quickly as he could, knowing that brick and timbers filled most of the space inside, with Grady, Kaika, and Therrik buried underneath.
He could still sense their auras and knew they lived, but he also sensed their fear and their pain. Worse, he sensed the two bear-shaped dragons at the bottom of the stairs, clambering over the top of the rubble, trying to reach the trapped officers.
A muffled ursine roar emanated from the stairwell.
We shall bury those foul blades forever, came a telepathic cry from one of the shape-shifted dragons.
“Hurry, Trip,” Ahn whispered, right behind him.
Worried and irritated with the slowness of his progress, Trip wrestled with the rubble. He had cleared the doorway on their side, but large blocks were wedged inside and he couldn’t get them out. In a fit of frustration, he growled and envisioned the roof being torn open and tons of rubble flying up and out.
Duck cursed, and Ahn sucked in a startled breath as his vision came true. Rubble flew upward and disappeared through a gaping hole in the roof. Rain spattered down through the opening.
Without stopping to marvel at his work, Trip scrambled onto the warped landing, heavy debris still scattered on it and more piled on the stairs leading down—the stairs leading to the two silver bears.
One was already halfway up, a paw raised as it stood over a bloody arm sticking out of the rubble. The creature paused and looked at Trip.
Azarwrath hurled lightning at it, but the bear attacked them at the same time. A pulse of mental power slammed into Trip so hard he stumbled back, shoulder blades hammering into the wall. Daggers seemed to plunge into his brain, and he gasped at the pain.
Azarwrath stopped attacking and threw a shield around Trip. It did nothing to stop the mental attack, but an instant later, a wave of palpable power rolled up the stairs at him, and though the soulblade’s barrier shuddered, it held. The rock in the wall behind Trip was pulverized, and dust flooded the air.
He glimpsed Ahn in the doorway, her rifle ready, trying to get past his barrier so she could join the battle. Still fighting the mental attack from the first bear—it was the second creature that had hurled the physical attack—Trip waved for her to stay back. She and that rifle wouldn’t be of any use against the dragons.
For that matter, he couldn’t do anything against two dragons, either. He had to free the sword wielders.
Distract them, he told Azarwrath, snarling and attempting to wall off his mind as that bear stared at him, silver reptilian eyes out of place in its ursine face.
I must keep the barrier up to protect you.
As Azarwrath spoke, the bear farther down the stairs sent another blast that hammered his barrier. More rock crumbled behind Trip, and more snaps and groans came from within the building.
The closer bear, seeming to believe Trip wasn’t a threat, went back to attacking the man—Therrik?—buried in the rubble.
Just attack them for a second, Trip thought. I’m going to try something.
Trip sensed Azarwrath’s reluctance, but the barrier dropped and the soulblade hurled waves of his own power at the bears.