Unfortunately, the nobleman was aware of Trip’s mental intrusion now and fought harder to block it, and his rage and fear clouded salient thoughts. Trip wished he hadn’t felt rushed and had been subtler, as that might have had a better result. Now, he could feel discomfort—almost pain—from the man, so he lessened his pressure. Reluctantly. He was worried about Rysha and the city. If General Zirkander was up in the air, the squadrons weren’t likely dealing with a simple, easily repelled attack by a single dragon.
Trip did his best to plant the image he’d already seen firmly in Lockvale’s mind, of him and the dragon talking over apples. Lockvale flashed to another image, of the silver dragon attacking people and devouring apples from trees on another estate. His neighbor’s land, Trip sensed. Men had gone out to fight the silver, but Lockvale had been clever and made an offer to it instead. He’d told the dragon that if it would work with him, together, they would acquire a great deal of land, land full of fruit and livestock that the silver could enjoy whenever it wanted. And nobody would attack it. The dragon would be allowed free rein of the land, as soon as Lockvale acquired it.
Trip grimaced, realizing it wasn’t a dissimilar offer to the one he’d made to Drysaleskar. But the Tlongan Steppes were the king’s land, and he had the right to use them in a negotiation. This land belonged to someone else, to Rysha and her family. Trip clenched a fist, angry at the man’s scheme, angry at him.
Lockvale grabbed his temples, fell to his knees, and cried out. “He’s attacking me!”
Startled, Trip drew back, removing his mental touch. But Lockvale started screaming.
“Stop him, stop him. He’s a witch! Shoot him!”
He’s feigning that pain, Azarwrath said with disgust.
Lockvale stole glances at his comrades, but none of them were moving against Trip. They were alarmed that Lockvale was being hurt, but they weren’t willing to risk themselves. Further, they were being affected by Trip’s aura, which made them want to stay on his good side, even though they had no idea who he was.
Lockvale snarled, stuck his hand under his jacket, and jumped to his feet, gripping a pistol.
Though startled, Trip raised his defenses instantly. Lockvale fired, but the bullet was deflected.
His eyes bulged in disbelief, and he ran toward Trip, firing again.
His chest bumped against the barrier, and he stumbled, falling backward. Trip used his power to tear the pistol from his grip.
“You’re scheming against the wrong family, Lord Lockvale.”
Trip lowered his barrier for long enough to float the pistol into his grip. As he held it in both hands, Azarwrath flared with red light, ensuring everyone could see. Trip channeled power into warping the metal, making it look as though he was breaking the firearm with his bare hands. He bent the barrel so it would never fire again and tossed it to the ground.
“If you or this dragon bother the Ravenwoods again, you’ll have to deal with me.” Even scarier, Trip added, switching to telepathy so the man would fully understand that he was a sorcerer, you’ll have to deal with Lieutenant Ravenwood and her dragon. And her dragon is larger than yours.
Lockvale screamed and dropped to the ground again, grabbing his head with both hands. “He’s attacking me, hurting me!”
Trip stepped back, sensing the silver dragon on the move. When he’d landed, it had been at the far eastern end of the property, with Shulina Arya chasing it. Now it was heading back toward the manor and the highway. Once again, Shulina Arya flew after it.
Lockvale staggered to his feet, backing toward his friends. “You all saw it.”
He still gripped his head, as if he were staunching some flow of blood, though there was none. He wasn’t even hurt, unless he’d bruised himself rolling around on the road. Lockvale looked around for his horse, but the creature had moved far down the road.
Fire lit up the sky behind the manor, and Trip shifted his attention, more worried about Rysha’s family than the nobleman.
He spotted the silver dragon weaving and diving as it tried to evade the flames. Shulina Arya came right behind, with Rysha on her back, but they weren’t gaining. The speedy silver dragon was pulling away, flying toward the highway. Maybe it thought it could fly out to sea and get away.
“We’ll see about that,” Trip muttered, drew Azarwrath, and ran down the long drive toward the manor—and the dragon chase.
As his legs churned, he kept his eyes on the silver. He sensed it was injured, but not enough to slow it down. He also sensed that its mental defenses were up, so neither flame nor magical attack was hurting it.
As it soared toward him, Trip planted himself in the road and lifted his hands, imagining wind channeling itself to create a wall of air in the middle of the silver’s path.
The dragon smashed into it headfirst, its body jerking and neck bending as if it had struck a brick wall. It started to fall, but then flapped its wings and recovered, shaking its head as if to shake away the stars dancing in its vision.
Shulina Arya spewed fire as she drew near. The silver glanced down at Trip, and he braced himself for an attack, but it flew off to the side of the valley, again pumping its wings so fast that it started pulling away.
Stop, you coward! Shulina Arya cried.
Trip marshaled his strength and conjured another wall in the air ahead of the silver.
This time, the dragon must have sensed it. The creature banked hard, talons grazing the magical barrier, then pushing off. It flew east again, back toward Rysha’s manor and the lake.
Shulina Arya angled, trying to cut it off. Trip created one more wall, though he struggled to make it as effective now that he stood at a greater distance.
Wishing he’d run for his flier instead of heading up the long drive on foot, he took off running again. Shulina Arya gained ground as the silver avoided Trip’s new wall. It stuttered in the air as raw energy buffeted its wings. Trip sensed Shulina Arya being subtler now, attacking with her mind instead of with fang and flames.
As he reached the lake, where tall trees grew along the shoreline, he lost sight of the combatants, the foliage blocking the sky. But he monitored with his senses as he ran. Azarwrath sent streaks of red lightning over the treetops and toward the silver. Trip tried to attack the dragon’s mind, hoping to further discombobulate it. He sensed Shulina Arya drawing close enough for strikes with fang and talon—and sword.
Shots rang out ahead of him, startling Trip.
He spotted people standing outside the manor, some with buckets and hoses, others with rifles. They fired, hopefully at the silver dragon, whenever they saw it.
Trip kept running, wanting to warn them to be careful. Dorfindral would protect Rysha from magical attacks, but a stray bullet could get through, especially if she and the sword were focused on the dragon.
As Trip raced up the last part of the driveway toward the people, the dragons came back into view. He almost jumped at how close they were. The silver plummeted toward the manor, with Shulina Arya racing behind it, breathing flames and charring its backside. Trip sensed that the silver’s defenses were down. More than that, the creature seemed barely conscious.