Morgan Rice - Night of the Bold

It appeared as if the tides of the world were coursing by, and Aidan had no idea how his father could ever defeat them. Yet he also had a sense of relief. The final epic battle for the fate of Escalon had come. It was their ultimate chance to face Pandesia once and for all, to live or to die as free men – but no longer to cower in fear.

Aidan fidgeted, itching for action, no longer able to be still as he watched.

“I want to go out and fight them,” Aidan said to the others. “I want to be by my father’s side.”

Cassandra shook her head.

“You will only get us all killed,” she chided, grabbing his arm. “You cannot go out there and fight them now. Your father has chosen his fate. You will wait with the rest of us and help seal the gulch when the time comes. We shall be safer here, anyway, on this side.”

He frowned.

“I do not wish to be safe,” he replied.

Aidan could not stand the idea of his father out there, and he waiting here. It burned within his small warrior’s heart, a great yearning to assist his father in any way he could.

Unable to take it any longer, he finally drew his sword and took a step forward, prepared to enter the fray, as reckless as it may be.

Suddenly, he felt a strong, reassuring hand on his wrist.

“There is another way. A smarter way.”

Aidan turned to see Motley looking down at him, his expression grave.

“Deception trumps might any day,” Motley continued. “To defeat your enemy, do what he expects least.”

Aidan furrowed his brow.

“And what is that?” he asked.

“Join him.”

Aidan stared back, confused.

“Join the Pandesian army,” Motley added. “In disguise. Be the worm from within. That’s where you can do the most damage.”

Aidan pondered Motley’s words. They made sense. It was a bold plan, sneaking behind enemy lines – and he liked it.

“But how?” Aidan asked.

“The tunnels.”

Motley gestured to the shadows, and Aidan looked and saw, in the dark recesses of the caves, small passages burrowed into the cliffs.

“They lead to the other side,” Motley added. “You could emerge on the other side, steal armor from an unsuspecting soldier, and slip into their ranks. You could join them on the chase for Duncan, wait for your moment, and help him when he needs it most.”

Aidan grinned broadly, loving the idea. Here, finally, was something he could do.

Aidan wasted no time: he jumped into action, rushing forward, deeper into the shadows, heading for the tunnels. Outside, he heard the thunderous roar of the Pandesians racing by.

He heard a noise and looked over to see Motley at his side, and Aidan stared back with wonder.

“You’re coming?” Aidan asked.

Motley grinned, yet beneath it, Aidan could see him sweating.

“Can’t let you die alone, young friend.”

Aidan heard the draw of a sword, and looked over to see Cassandra standing at his other side.

“Nor I,” she added.

He heard a snarl, and looked down to see White at his feet, joining them, and he stood there, so grateful for all his friends’ loyalty.

“You first,” Motley said. “You’re smaller.”

Aidan grinned back. “Who are you calling small ?” he retorted.

Motley smiled and Aidan stepped forward, crouched low, and stepped into the black dampness of the tunnel, hoping beyond hope that it let him out on the other side – and into the thick of the Pandesian ranks.

Kyra plummeted through the air, clinging to Theon’s back, as they spun wildly out of control. She saw the ground rushing up to meet them, knew she would be dead in a few moments, and yet despite that, she wasn’t worried for herself. She could think only of one thing: that Staff of Truth. There it was, far below her, tumbling end over end, dropping through the sky as it fell toward the ground, gleaming each time it caught the light.

Kyra could scarcely believe that dragon had snatched it from her hands. She had felt so powerful, so invincible, had been certain that she and the staff would never be separated. And just like that, in one single swipe, the fate of Escalon, so fragile, was reeling; her own destiny, so precarious, was in jeopardy. How was it possible? How could a dragon’s swipe get in the way of destiny?

The more she dwelled on it, the more Kyra began to realize that destiny was fragile. Fate was fragile. True, what was meant to be was meant to be; yet she also had to intervene in her destiny if she were to shape it. As she fell, Kyra also realized something else: the staff was testing her. It was testing her strength, testing her resolve. Was she truly worthy of wielding it? It was forcing her to become bigger, stronger than herself.

Kyra closed her eyes and tuned into the energy of the staff and slowly, she realized that she and the staff were truly one. That nothing could come between them. She began to realize that the space between them was just an illusion. That there was no such thing in this world as separation.

In a moment of sudden insight, Kyra thrust out her palm and allowed that to come to her which she knew she deserved to have.

Kyra felt a tremendous wave of heat shoot through her body, her palm feeling as if it were on fire, and as she looked down, her heart leapt to see the staff suddenly reversing course. It suddenly flew upward in the air, right for her – and a moment later, it stuck to her palm.

As it did, Kyra felt alive again, felt more powerful than she’d ever been. Nothing could separate them now.

Kyra pulled up on Theon, and they leveled out just feet before hitting the ground, so close to trolls below that their swinging halberds nearly touched them. Then they ascended once again. Kyra looked up and kept the dragons in her sights, and she and Theon, equally determined, flew right for them.

As they reached the flock, Kyra swung the staff. The lead dragon dove for her, massive, with thick, red scales, and an orb of light emanated from the staff and stopped it in its tracks. It shrieked, stopped cold, and then suddenly, dead, plummeted straight down. It landed far below with a tremendous crash, crushing a hundred trolls beneath it.

Emboldened, Kyra swung the staff overhead in a wide circle, while Theon flew higher, gaining momentum, aiming for the next dragon. This one had huge, green scales, and as Kyra swung the staff, she smashed its throat, sending it rocking to her side, then tumbling end over end down to the ground below. It landed with a tremendous crash, dead.

Theon flew higher, as Kyra felt the staff urging them on. She let out a battle cry and leaned forward to face the three yellow dragons diving down for them. Theon, fearless, opened his jaws and lunged forward and clamped down on the throat of the one in the middle. The dragon screeched, wrestling with him.

The other two closed in, and Kyra swung the staff, smashing one in the head with such force that she sent it hurtling backwards, then smashing the other across its back, sending it flipping end over end, screeching as it fell down to the ground, dead.

Theon still wrestled with the much bigger dragon, clamping onto its throat despite the bigger opponent scratching and biting him. Kyra, jerked back and forth as Theon struggled, raised her staff with both hands and brought it down straight between the eyes of the dragon opposite her. White sparks flew everywhere, and the dragon screeched, released its grip, and dropped like a stone straight down to the ground below. There followed a distant boom as the dragon hit the ground, creating a massive crater and sending up huge plumes of dust.

Kyra and Theon threw themselves into the rest of the flock, and one at a time, they destroyed each and every dragon, the Staff of Truth felling them like a thing of wonder. Finally there remained but two dragons still flying. They approached, and Theon bit the tail of one of them, swinging it wide, then sending it hurtling sideways. The other dragon, though, approached too quickly, opening its mouth to breathe fire and kill them both.