Wayne Batson - The Final Storm

Aidan looked at Zabed, who was starved from his long imprisonment, thin and frail with age.

“Maybe there’s another way,” Aidan said, and he handed Fury to Antoinette. Then he grasped Zabed’s wrists and carefully slung him onto his back.

“Nay, lad!” Zabed protested. “Leave me be! I will slow thou down to the demise of all!”

“Zabed, I won’t leave you,” Aidan said, hefting the sage and taking a few steps. “C’mon, Antoinette!”

Aidan ran surprisingly fast, bearing Zabed’s extra weight more easily than he had thought he could. The passage curled and then sloped downward. Aidan whispered a quick Thank you to King Eliam and charged on. Antoinette, Fury in one hand, the Daughter of Light in the other, raced after him.

Heavy footfalls fell in the passage behind them. Too close! Aidan thought. They’ll catch us before we can- Then he saw it. The passage opened up at the bottom and strange gray twilight fell upon the stone beneath a wide arch. Aidan knew that arch. The balcony and the dragons were just beyond it!

“It’s just ahead!” he cried. “Hurry!” Just then an arrow swooshed over Aidan’s shoulder, struck the ceiling of the passage ahead, and clattered to the ground. Angry screams blared from the passage.

Aidan dashed down the hill. The arch was closer. Almost there. Suddenly, Zabed groaned. His arms stiffened and then went limp in Aidan’s grasp. Zabed’s gray head fell on Aidan’s shoulders.

“No!” Aidan exclaimed. “Zabed?!” But the old sage did not answer. Aidan surged beneath the arch into the ethereal gray of night in Paragory. But the moment Aidan stepped on the stone of the balcony, his feet slid out from under him. He skidded as if on ice and fell backward. His weight came down hard on Zabed.

Antoinette was right behind him. She lost her footing as well, flailed to keep her balance, but crashed to the stone. Her sword and Fury clattered across the balcony. Antoinette pushed herself up from the ground. Her hands felt wetness. She stood awkwardly and looked at her palms. Even in the shroud of gray night, she could see glistening blood. Blood! Antoinette looked around. They were in a great wide pool of blood.

Aidan struggled to his feet, turned, and saw the two white dragons he had brought from the stables below. They were slain, their long necks hewn and scored with many jagged wounds. And sprawled unnaturally near the dragons were five dead Glimpses. Paragor Knights-each of them gouged deep by dragon claws or bitten.

Then Aidan saw Zabed, facedown in the blood. A cruel black shaft protruded from his shoulder, and he lay very still. “No! Zabed!” Aidan yelled, as he staggered toward the fallen sage. A dozen Paragor Knights appeared in the shadows on the downslope of the passage, but Aidan did not see them. He knelt next to the old Glimpse and felt for a pulse. There was none.

Antoinette grabbed her sword and dove behind one of the dead dragons. “Aidan!”

But Aidan seemed lost in a fog. He held the frail hand of the old Glimpse and thought of Captain Valithor, the Glimpse twin of Grampin. Aidan had held Valithor’s hand as he died, pierced like Zabed with an arrow meant for Aidan.

Antoinette watched the enemy advance under the arch. In a moment they could hack Aidan to bits with their curved swords. “Aidan! Snap out of it!” she cried. “Aidan!”

An arrow glanced off Aidan’s shoulder, and he fell backward. Finally aware of his own peril, he scrabbled in the blood, snatched Fury, and dove behind the other fallen dragon steed. Sickening wet thuds followed as a barrage of black shafts drilled into the fallen white dragons.

“How many?” Aidan called out.

“At least a dozen,” Antoinette answered. “There may be more coming. I don’t know.”

Aidan grimaced. The balcony wall stood behind them, and beyond that, there was a hundred-foot fall to the jagged rocks of the Grimwalk below. Twelve against two and nowhere to go.

Never alone, Aidan thought as he slowly rose to look over the dragon carcass. The enemy was there, but they were not advancing. Not yet. It seemed more to their taste to try to pick off their prey from a safe distance. After all, they were in no danger from return fire.

“I see your game, Blarrak!” came a voice. “If that is who you really are!”

Aidan peered over the dragon carcass. It was Drang!

“Yes, I know your game!” Drang yelled. “But I play it better than you! Now give up Kearn’s prize, for I am several moves ahead of you!”

Another volley of arrows streamed in. Many stabbed into the dead dragons, others hit the balcony wall and fell at Aidan’s feet. “Antoinette, the dead Paragor Knights in front of the dragons-do any of them have a bow?”

Antoinette looked at Aidan strangely, then she nodded and peered around the dragon. The dead knights had only swords, no, wait! There was one bow. It lay beneath the Paragor Knight farthest from the fallen dragon in front of her. Antoinette ducked back and called to Aidan, “There is one bow. I can get it, but I’ll be exposed.”

“No you won’t!” Aidan said. “Be ready.” Aidan suddenly stood up, and ran to the right of his dragon cover. He slashed Fury as he ran, and the enemy trained their bows upon him. At that moment, staying low, Antoinette sprinted from behind her dragon.

The arrows flew at Aidan, and he dove to the ground and rolled. One shaft struck Fury’s crossguard and fell away. Several others bounced off the balcony wall. Aidan stood again and leaped for cover, but not before a black shaft struck him in the upper arm.

Aidan hit the ground, and struggled to tear off the armor on his arm. He could feel the tip of the arrow on his skin, and he knew if it penetrated, the poison from even a scratch could kill him. At last the armor came free. The tip had gone clean through the armor, but there was no blood on his arm. He was safe.

“I got it!” Antoinette called.

“Do you know how to shoot?”

“Yes, actually, I do,” Antoinette replied. But could she remember all that Nock had taught her in that short lesson at Torin’s Vale?

Aidan grabbed every fallen arrow he could find, and even plucked a few from the dragon’s body. These he tossed over at Antoinette’s feet. Antoinette fitted the first shaft to the bowstring. She sat still for a moment, rehearsing the movements. Eye on the target, draw the bowstring to your ear, pull back a little more until the string releases itself… and, oh yeah, expect to hit the target!

Then she stood suddenly. She spotted a broad warrior standing near the arch. She aimed, drew back, and the arrow was gone. She had been aiming for his chest, but the shot was a little high. The arrow plunged straight into the Glimpse’s neck. Antoinette lined up another shot. Another arrow flew, and another enemy fell. But the enemy fired back, and Antoinette dropped to the ground for cover.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the balcony, and Aidan saw a pair of knights crawling across the bloody balcony. Thunder rumbled overhead. Aidan yelled, “Get the two on the ground!”

He watched as Antoinette fired at the two prone figures. Her first shot drilled into the closest knight. His head hit the balcony with a dull thud. The other warrior got up and tried to run, but fell within a few steps as an arrow pierced his armor and plunged deep between his shoulder blades.

“Wow! Who taught you to shoot?” Aidan asked.

“Nock!” Antoinette replied with a wink.

Aidan looked up over the dragon. There were two Paragor Knights left: Drang and a big galoot of a warrior who didn’t seem to know which end of the arrow to put onto the bowstring.

“I’m out of arrows!” Antoinette said, drawing the Daughter of Light. “But I think we can take them!”

“Okay,” Aidan called back. “I’ll take the big guy, but if you can, leave the other guy alive. He may know how we can get out of here.”