The dragon yowled as the dwarf brought his weapon down on the beast’s hind leg. It whipped its head toward the source of its pain, affording Cedric the distraction he needed to get away.
He seized the opening, ignoring the stars blurring his vision and darted toward the spot where his sword had fallen. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt just as the dragon’s tail lashed out, sweeping Thraigg off his feet and sending him careening into Zephyr. The two of them collapsed in a heap of tangled limbs and weapons.
Then it turned to Cedric once more, chuffing in a way that sounded suspiciously like a taunt.
Cedric set his stance, lifting his sword. The beast lunged at him, claws raking the air. Ribs screaming in protest, Cedric pivoted and brought his blade up to meet the strike. Steel screeched against scale, sparks lighting up the night as he deflected the blow.
Snarling, the dragon reared up, forcing Cedric back to avoid being crushed as its legs met the earth with a thunderous shake. The moment it touched back down, Cedric rolled forward and drove his sword up into the soft flesh of its underbelly.
A bellow of pain erupted from the beast and for a single victorious moment it seemed like it might slink back, retreat.
It did not.
It swung. And before Cedric could even make sense of what was happening, he was being smashed back against the rock, the dragon’s heavy claw pinning him across his chest. He gasped as the pressure forced the air from his lungs. The edges of his vision darkened. His sword fell from his grip.
Cedric was certain someone—Thraigg? Zephyr? Both of them?—was shouting, but the sound was distant, muted. And it was all he could do to continue breathing.
Hot, pungent air blasted his skin as the dragon drew its head close enough for Cedric to see his reflection in its shining black scales. Blood ran down the side of his neck, staining the collar of his doublet crimson beneath his armor. His eyes were dark, his cheeks hollow.
The first trial. He hadn’t even been able to make it past the first trial. Some champion he was.
The dragon tipped its head back, and Cedric heard the distinct sound of something sparking in the back of its throat. He nearly laughed. He supposed that of all the ways this monster could end his life, being roasted by dragonfyre wasn’t the worst one. At least it would be quick. Better this than being eaten alive and drowning in the beast’s belly or being slowly torn apart by tooth and claw. And maybe Zephyr and Thraigg would still get to the gate while the dragon was busy with its knightly meal.
Admittedly, the thought didn’t bring him much relief.
Tossing a silent prayer to Aurelia into the ether, Cedric steeled his nerves and glared at the dragon, even as the glow of fire built in the back of its throat. He hoped Lord Church would understand that he had tried. And he hoped that the fact he was willing to meet his death head on would count for something in the Hereafter.
But before the flames could erupt from the dragon’s mouth, something swept past Cedric’s vision. Bits of stone and sediment buffeted the side of his face as a staff dug into the rock by his head. A figure vaulted from behind him. A booted foot connected with the dragon’s jaw. Its head jerked to the side.
A pained roar tore from the beast’s throat, even as flames shot from its open mouth. Heat singed the tip of Cedric’s ear as orange dragonfyre spewed past, just a few footspans from roasting him whole.
The dragon stumbled back with a yelp, releasing its hold on Cedric as its flame sputtered out, a dagger suddenly protruding from the massive beast’s snout. Cedric fell forward as his mysterious savior landed in a crouch directly in front of him.
His breath caught in his throat.
Dazzling wings that matched the aurora overhead beat once before folding against her back. Periwinkle hair blew in the wind, that faint almond scent cutting through the brimstone-laced air.
Elyria.
The Revenant had come.
16
AS YOU WERE, DRAGON
CEDRIC
She didn’t pause.Didn’t look back as she sprang forward, her staff spinning in a flash of wood and metal. With a leap, Elyria was parallel to the dragon’s snout, ripping her dagger back out as the creature howled. Fangs dripping, it snapped at her in retaliation, but she was little more than a blur as she darted out of the way.
The fae warrior’s movements were fluid, graceful. She danced around its whipping tail and avoided its slashing claws. She wielded her wings like fins—flaring them one at a time when she needed to make a sharp turn, using a quick flap to boost the height of her jumps. She struck with precision, the hard metal end of her staff finding points of weakness in the dragon’s armor-like scales as if she could see straightthrough them.
It was a miraculous and terrifying sight.
Cedric tore his eyes from the beautiful onslaught and stumbled over to his sword, though he hardly needed it anymore. Not as Elyria’s calculated barrage of blows had the beast retreating by the time he wrapped his hand around the hilt.
“Stop showboating!” called a voice, somewhat familiar. Kit stood a short distance away, her silver hair glowing in the aurora’s light, golden wings fluttering with agitation.
Elyria rolled her eyes but pulled back. With a single pump of its massive wings, the dragon was in the sky, soaring away with a forceful blast of air that pushed Cedric back down to one knee. He planted his sword in the ground to keep himself from being knocked over completely.
