Darcy managed to get to his hands and knees, wincing at what were going to be ugly bruises. Then a rush of air knocked him back down, before he was seized by something and lifted up.
Dragon talons, pulling him out of the hole he had created.
Quickthorn dumped them on the blackened grass. “Next time I warn you away, listen to me!” she scolded.
Darcy had no patience for this, not when she was burning Pemberley land. “Why are you doing this?” he demanded.
She huffed at him. “Are you blind? There is a troop of High Fae over there. They will not cross dragonfire. Until Rowan can repair the wards, it is the only way to keep them out. Now get out of my way.” She turned her head and sent out an enormous blast of flame towards the edge of the property. “See, they can tell I am distracted. Go!”
Roderick shouted over the noise. “I will need Darcy to help reset the wards. Can you keep the space where they broke safe?”
“Let me flame it first.” The sea-green dragon produced an amulet from nowhere and tossed it at Darcy. “This will help protect you. Companion Roderick, you are already immune from dragonfire.”
Darcy caught it and looped the chain around his neck. Odd, that he was not immune, when his brother Jack had been. Then again, Jack had passed through a dragon Gate on his own, whereas Darcy had needed special help.
The sea-green dragon took off with a mighty leap, the wind from her wings forcing the men down to a crouch.
“Why did you not listen to her warnings? If I had not proven to be immune, we could both have died!” The Welshman was clearly furious with him, and understandably so. He had risked his life to save Darcy.
“I did not understand. I could hear nothing but the land calling for me.” He should have thought, though. The land could not have understood a danger to him, only that it was under attack.
“You could not hear Quickthorn’s sending? Even your horse understood the order to flee!”
Was that what had set Hercules off? “Nothing. A sense of dread, but that was all, until I heard her voice.”
As Quickthorn flew overhead, flames erupted a short distance ahead of them. Smoke poured from the burning vegetation, making Darcy’s eyes sting.
“Can you help with the wards?” Roderick asked. “We need someone with land Talent to make the earth accept them. Mrs. Darcy did it last time, but in her current situation that is impossible.”
“Yes, of course.” Darcy said firmly. No one was going to drag poor exhausted Elizabeth out here, no matter how urgent it might be. “Just tell me what to do.”
“First we must get there. As soon as the fire dies down, prepare to run. And hold onto that amulet!”
He only hoped it would work. Especially since Roderick raced off when the ground was still smoldering. Smoke filled his lungs as he followed. At least their boots should provide some protection.
Finally they crossed over the invisible line of the wards. Not that he could tell with his usual senses whether they were still on Pemberley land; there was no marking on the moors beyond occasional boundary stones. But Roderick clearly knew where they needed to be. “What now?” Darcy gasped.
And then sucked in a breath again when Quickthorn let loose another burst of flame, not two dozen feet away. Were the attacking fae so close?
“Rowan is on his way, and he will explain. Can you feel where the wards end?”
Darcy's feet tingled as he sank his power into the land once more, past the charred heather, down into the tangle of peat. Down, down, all the way to bedrock, but there was nothing unusual there. Unless – there it was, off to the right, a frayed line of dragon magic that had been split off. And yes, there was the same thing to his left.
“The line is broken,” he said grimly. “I can sense it on both sides. It is as if something tore it apart.”
Roderick cursed under his breath. “What in heaven and hell could do that? Or perhaps the question should be what in Faerie has that power. Ah, here comes Rowan.”
Darcy rubbed his hands over his damp arms, cold despite the dragonfire burning on both sides of him. A small piece of silver was all that was protecting him. He had wondered what it had been like for those soldiers on the battlefield, whose last sight had been dragonfire.
Now he knew.
War had come to Pemberley. Not the war with the French he had expected, but a different one. Even if these dragons were determined to spare everyone's lives, this was a battle. And the prize was Georgiana.
Rowan's voice appeared inside his head.For the sake of time, pray permit me to show you what is necessary. A torrent of images followed. Darcy forced himself to focus despite his pounding heart, the dragonfire and attacking fae.
It was easy to connect to the land this time, to do as Rowan had told him and instruct the soil to accept this magic being gifted by the dragon, to help him protect Pemberley and all within. The peat shifted underfoot in its eagerness to help him and its hatred for the invaders who threatened it.
He nodded to Rowan that he was ready. At the last moment, he reached out his Talent like invisible underground arms to reach both frayed ends of the wards, letting his own magic connect them. Whether it would workwas beyond him, but it felt right to enclose Pemberley, to protect his family and his people.
