But that isn’t what’s important right now. I take stock of the flare and see that many dragons and riders are already in the skies.
Zenevieve and I do the same. I carry her up onto Nilak, and we check on all the castle and city gates. Several of them are in danger of being overrun by undead, but a dragon of Nilak’s size can do nothing against the undead at the inner gates without setting fire to more of the city and putting people in danger. We leave the castle gates to the soldiers and wingrunners and defend the northern city gate from the hundreds of skeletal figures clawing and ripping at the wood and stone. Undead are stacked upon undead, clambering over each other in their frenzy to get inside the city.
The undead do burn, but it takes dozens of torrents of dragonfire before a good quantity of the enemy are crumbling to cinders. Nilak picks up large rocks and fallen trees to fling at the undead to give her soul core a rest, and then she goes back to breathing fire. Just within the sealed gate, soldiers and civilians are battling the enemies that manage to climb over the walls. If the gate is breached, they’ll all die in a flood of undead.
As Nilak pulls up out of a low, fiery swoop over the undead, Zenevieve and I assess the flames and smoke over the city.
“I thought Kane was exaggerating when he said we must make sure that Queen Isavelle has a home to return to. What if the whole castle burns, just like my—” Zenevieve’s voice hitches and she covers her mouth, pressing hard to smother the sob that’s trying to leave her throat.
What if the whole castle burns, just like her home, with her parents still inside. I hold Zenevieve tightly. If we don’t win this battle, we’re going to lose everything. “We won’t let it be destroyed,” I tell her fiercely.
There’s a silver blur in the sky, and a flash of red hair as the rider hails us. Ravenna, riding the wyvern Keilar. She lands sixty feet from the gate in the road. The undead by the gate are scattered. We can spare a moment to speak with her.
We alight several feet away, and she calls up to us, “Dragonmaster, Zenevieve, are you both well? Have you been injured?”
“We are well,” I call to her. “But the undead keep coming.”
“And they will keep coming until the lich is finally destroyed,” she tells us. “Without a host, it’s got nothing to lose.”
There’s a roar, and Auryn swoops overhead. Kane is guarding his mate from the skies.
“I’m surprised that Kane has come to aid the city.”
“If Lenhale falls, the Shadow King will take his dragons from him. We can’t go back to living under the persecution that we endured for so long,” Ravenna explains. “Dragonmaster, please tell me where I am needed. I offer my offensive spells and my healing magic.”
“The wingrunners are our frontline, and they take the first injuries,” I tell her. “Seek out Captain Ashton at one of the city gates and follow his orders.”
She nods decisively. “I shall, thank you, dragonmaster. Be well, both of you.”
I look up into the skies, and shout at Kane, “And if the eastern flare wishes to aid Lenhale, they will concentrate on keeping the undead from overrunning the city.”
“Follow your own advice,” Kane calls down to me, and he and Ravenna head back toward the city.
Zenevieve’s fingers tighten on my sleeve. “Will the gates hold?”
I follow the direction of her gaze. The undead have regrouped and are scraping deeper and deeper holes into the wood. “If theydo not, then I will defend it from the ground while you and Nilak do your best from the air.”
We launch into the skies and head back to the gate, and Nilak parts her jaws and sets the undead aflame once more. The battle goes on for many hours, and without a commander coordinating messages between the different battle points, we have no idea of how the rest of the city fares. Perhaps it has already fallen.
Sometime later, I can feel how much Nilak has weakened. Her throat is raw, and her soul core is depleted. Her wings ache, and her legs are covered in bleeding scratches. She refuses to give up, but I can’t allow her to continue like this.
Meanwhile, the undead by the gates are as thick as ever.
“I’m going to the ground,” I tell Zenevieve.
She grips my arm, fear widening her eyes. “Stesha, you can’t. You’ll be overrun. They’ll tear you apart.”
“I would rather die fighting than lose you again. For I will lose you if that thing wins.”
“Stesha, I won’t watch you die, and if you go down there—”
I kiss her hard, and when I feel that Nilak is low to the ground, I swing my leg over the saddle and surrender to gravity. I feel Zenevieve gasp as my lips leave hers, and I plummet to the ground. Nilak’s raking talons have cleared a spot for me.
The rotting corpses with their tarnished weapons hiss in surprise, and they stink like nothing I’ve ever known before.
I unsheathe my sword. “Down here, you lot are even uglier.”
I plant my foot against what was once a Brethren Guard’s chest and send it toppling backward, taking half a dozen undead.
