Alliance (29 page)

Fimor sighed.
“I don’t think they would be very effective. That last attack used a lot of energy, Nykin, and though the injuries sustained aren’t life-threatening, they are draining. When we go in next time, we will be relatively unprotected.”

“Is that the same for Eldin’s team?”

“Yes.”

Nykin had an idea.
“Tell Vashek we’re coming to join them.”
He quickly detailed the rest of his plan and waited for Fimor to relay it to Vashek.

“He says Eldin is ready when you are.”

“Let’s go, then.”

Fimor led the others out to meet Eldin above the center of the camp. Nykin didn’t relish the idea of killing the men below, but this was war. Vashek drew alongside them, facing south as Nykin faced north.

“
On your orders, Fimor.”

Fimor didn’t even pause. He shot down toward the ground, fire erupting from his mouth as Vashek did the same. They led their groups in opposite directions, burning through the camp and effectively protecting each other as best they could with the flames. Most of the soldiers were too stunned to react. Those in the dragons’ path scrambled frantically to get out of the way. But clearly some held their ground, and Nykin cried out as he felt an arrow hit the top of his right thigh just as Fimor began to climb.

“Nykin?”

Nykin glanced down to assess the damage. The arrow hadn’t lodged in his leg but had cut about a four-inch gash, which bled steadily. Nykin clamped his hand down on top of it to stem the flow and winced.
“I don’t think it’s too bad. Just hurts.”

“Listen to me. I believe there is a small wound low on my neck.”

Nykin leaned down to check and quickly discovered a cut about two inches or so wide, where it looked as though an arrow had hit but not sunk in.
“I see it.”

“If you can reach it, get some of the blood and rub it into your wound. Hurry, Nykin. The barrier is failing.”

Nykin stretched out as far as he could, ignoring the way it pulled at his wound. He managed to slide two fingers through the trickle of blood coming from Fimor’s wound and rushed to smear them over his leg. The change was instantaneous. The moment Fimor’s blood touched his open cut, it sealed it. Nykin wiped his hand on his pants, but before he had a chance to tell Fimor it had worked, he felt a sudden flare of magic in his left side, and then it was gone.

Oh no.

Nykin felt his stomach drop.
“The barrier!”

“Eldin has ordered all riders to the walls.”

“
Tell the others to split up. With no shield it’s too dangerous to stick together if the witch still has magic. If they sustain an injury that threatens their ability to fly, they must return to the Eyrie at once and treat the wound. We can’t leave any behind if it comes to it.”

“Done.”

The others began to peel away, each turning and approaching the wall from a slightly different direction. They would not make it easy for the witch. Despite their earlier attack on the ladders, Seran’s soldiers somehow still managed to have some remaining intact, and were now in the process of pushing them up against Torsere’s outer walls.

“There. About fifty feet in front of the main gates. Do you see it?”

“Yes, I see it.”

Nykin gripped the harness and leaned in as low as he could to Fimor’s back.
“Let’s go burn it, then.”

R
YNEQ
HAD
just fastened the last of his armor when Nysad burst into the war room.

“Sire. It’s started.”

Ryneq took a deep breath, feeling the years of training kick in as he centered himself and prepared for battle. “Is everyone in position?”

“Yes, Your Highness. The elves are already at the barrier, and the Guard is assembling as we speak.” Nysad looked as determined as Ryneq had ever seen him, showing no sign of panic or nerves. This was why he was captain of the guard, and Ryneq thanked the Gods he had Nysad by his side.

Ryneq reached for his sword, still imbued with elf magic, and slid it into its sheath at his side. He had two more knives crossed over on his back and a dagger strapped to his thigh. Nysad didn’t bat an eye, since he sported a similar array of weapons. “Elf magic,” Ryneq said when Nysad raised an eyebrow at the slight purple glow surrounding his sword. “Might come in handy if we have to face the witch.” He really hoped they never got that close, though.

Ryneq stepped forward to clap Nysad on the shoulder. “I don’t want a new captain of the guard, Nysad. Make sure you stay alive.”

“I’ll do my best, Sire.” He stepped back and opened the door. “Ready?”

Ryneq nodded, and Nysad turned to lead the way out to the wall. He glanced up at the sky as soon as they stepped outside, in time to see the two teams of riders flying in formation as they dipped low, readying for attack. His heart leaped to his throat. One of those was Nykin, and Ryneq clenched his fists in an effort to rein in his emotions. As much as he wanted to watch, he had a duty to his people. He had to let Nykin do his job and pray that he came back safely.

They walked through the palace courtyard, Peros and Talis flanking Ryneq as they left the safety of the palace. Soldiers rushed to get into position, waiting for the inevitable failure of the elven barrier. The lower town sat between the inner and outer walls, rows of houses built next to each other as the road wound its way down the mountain. At this time of day, the street would normally be filled with market stalls as villagers traded their wares, but as Ryneq climbed the steps up to the top of the inner wall, all he could see were Torserian Guards.

The houses were hopefully all empty by now, all the people safely moved to the largest tunnels beneath the palace. They no longer ran all the way under the mountain—sealed off by his father after a particularly bad cave-in—but they went back far enough. The conditions would be cramped and unforgiving, but better than the alternative. Either way, they wouldn’t be down there for long.

Nysad gave the order and the archers fired. Arrow after arrow arced into the sky, hopefully finding their targets. The air began to shimmer above the north wall, colors firing in random patterns, and had it meant something different, the sight would have been beautiful.

“It’s failing.” Nysad glanced back at Ryneq for confirmation, and Ryneq nodded.

“I think so.”

Every now and again, a flare of purple filled the space, wiping out the rainbow effect, but it lessened each time. They didn’t have long.

“I need to get down to the outer wall.” Nysad raised his hand to salute. “It’s been an honor, Sire.”

Ryneq clasped his forearm and gripped it hard, remembering Eldin’s words from the day before. “The honor is mine.” Nysad bowed his head and turned to leave. He would lead the guard and meet the first wave of Seran’s soldiers. Ryneq wished he could join him on the front lines. He longed to take the fight to Seran and get his hands dirty protecting his people. But as Nysad had so rightly pointed out, he would be no good to them dead.

So standing on the inner wall with the remaining guard was the compromise. If Seran breached this, they were all doomed anyway. “Peros.” Ryneq turned to face him. “With Nysad gone, you are now the commanding officer on the wall.”

“Yes, Sire.” Peros saluted and stepped forward, seamlessly slipping into the position Nysad had just left.

The archers continued their assault, aiming their arrows high into the air to avoid the fires started by the dragons. Ryneq paced along the wide expanse atop the wall. He needed to know how much damage the dragons had done to Seran’s army, and what they would face if the wall fell. Only the riders had a view of everything.

“Peros, send one of your men to bring Lerran back here quickly, I need to talk to him.”

“Sire.” Peros saluted and immediately ordered one of the guards down to the where the elves were. Ryneq watched him run to mount his horse and clatter down the street toward the outer wall.

It seemed to take forever until they saw the guard return with Lerran behind him. The elf dismounted first and rushed up the steps to join Ryneq.

“Your Highness! The barrier is down.”

“Gods have mercy.” The wall still seemed to be intact, and Ryneq felt a little relief at that. “Where are the others?” He’d given strict orders for the elves to retreat behind the inner wall as soon as the barrier failed.

“On their way, Sire.”

Ryneq gestured to the cuff on Lerran’s wrist. “Can you contact Nykin through that?”

“I can try. I’m not sure if he’ll recognize what it is, though, and it will most certainly distract him.” Lerran looked uncertain, and with good reason. The dragons were circling high above Seran’s camp, obviously poised for another attack run, and the last thing Nykin needed was a distraction. But Ryneq had to be as prepared as possible.

“Do it.” The dragon riders peeled off in different directions, all headed for some part of the wall, and Ryneq bit back the urge to stop Lerran. He had to trust that the risk was worth it.

Lerran closed his eyes as the first signs of fighting erupted down below them. “They have ladders, but not many.” Lerran’s eyes snapped open as he spoke, the words tumbling out in a way so reminiscent of Nykin it made Ryneq’s heart clench. “They’ve got a battering ram headed for the main gates. Fimor and Nykin are headed for it now.”

“Peros, send fifty of your men to help fortify the gates. Nysad will have men there already, but he’ll need them on the walls if they still have ladders.”

“Yes, Sire.”

“What about the witch?” Ryneq turned to face Lerran again as Peros ran down the steps to carry out his orders.

“Her power is depleted, but to what extent I can’t tell.” Lerran glanced over at the gate just as Faelon and the others clattered through on horseback. “They might know more, but she isn’t dry, by any means.”

Ryneq cast one more glance at the dragon riders as they made sweeping passes along the wall before following Lerran down the steps to meet the others.

Lerran rushed forward to help Avelor pull a very pale-looking Faelon from his horse. He slumped against Avelor’s chest, and would have fallen if Lerran wasn’t holding his arm. Avelor wrapped one hand around Faelon’s waist, and between him and Lerran, they managed to keep him upright.

“What happened?” Ryneq frowned as some of the elven soldiers helped Glaevahl from his saddle. He didn’t look much better than Faelon.

“We’re not sure exactly.” Avelor grunted as he shifted Faelon to a more comfortable position. “When the barrier fell, Faelon and Glaevahl were still connected. The witch’s magic latched on to their energy and began to absorb it, as though she was using it to replenish hers. I managed to break the spell, but not before she took a lot out of them.” He shot a worried glance at Faelon, where his head lolled against Avelor’s shoulder. Faelon’s skin had lost the healthy sheen he’d picked up since being in Torsere and now looked almost as bad as the last time he’d tangled with the witch. “Faelon took the worst of it.”

“Can you do anything?” Ryneq had been counting on them to help counter the witch’s magic if she got through to the palace. They were in no state to fight at the moment, though, and probably no state to fly, either. “They need to be able to ride a dragon at the very least.”

Glaevahl cleared his throat, and everyone turned to look at him. “I have something back at the palace that will help.” His voice sounded weak, but he was standing on his own at least. He gestured at Faelon. “Bring him.”

Lerran ordered one of the elven soldiers to take his place and carefully handed Faelon over to them. “Avelor, escort them back to the palace. I’ll remain here with the king.”

Avelor nodded. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

With the elves gone and the fifty soldiers already making their way down to help with the gate, Ryneq had little to do but watch and wait. He and Lerran climbed the steps back up to the top of the inner wall. They didn’t have that much room to maneuver
—
the outer wall was much thicker
—
but it was still a good five feet across at the top, and it gave them a great vantage point from which to watch the battle unfold.

The dragon riders were all split up now, darting down from the sky and attacking the lowland soldiers as they attempted to scale the walls. They heard the sounds of fighting as some of the ladders made it up against the wall, the clash of swords echoing loudly as Seran’s men scrambled over the top. The dragons were quick to set them alight, but even Ryneq could see them falter when they got too close—no doubt the enemy archers were finding their targets.

“Where is the witch?” Ryneq scanned across the length of Torsere’s walls. He’d been expecting her to blast through the walls, or attack the dragons, especially if she’d drawn more energy from the elves. It made no sense for her not to use it, but there’d been no sign of her since the barrier came down.