They drew my attention, guiding my eyes like beacons toward the dragon sitting across the field.
Far smaller than the beast attacking Reese, this dragon had two pairs of shadow-webbed wings. Though it had no eyes, its head snapped in my direction.
The scáde lifted its neck, displaying its warbling throat. Rising from its bed of flowers, it trotted toward me.
This was the same beast that had nuzzled me in Galasvar.
My adrenaline and conviction died as the dragon reached my side and lowered its head to caress me again.
I gasped as its cool scales ran across my neck, my face.
Worse still was the fire that ignited in my gut—like the fond affection I felt when a stray cat rubbed against my legs.
Stepping back, the dragon regarded me. Its throat trembled, singing the war song.
I had not noticed in Galasvar the stunning butterfly patterns painting the underside of its wings.
Why? Why could I walk among them, unharmed?
Welcomed?
A giant bird landed on the floating rocks above and peered down at us. Glassy, frightening eyes crowned the end of a long, pale neck. It spread its black wings, preparing to take off.
Paragon Killian had cut one of those in half with Cierthine. But this one could fly right past Reese, toward the villagers.
Toward Liam.
Rock crumbled from the floating island as the vulture soared north. Snapped from my trance, I drew Cierthine and pointed it toward the scáde.
Would it turn on me if I harmed it?
Noticing the blade, the scáde took a step back.
If I gave it the chance to attack, I was dead. And so was everyone else.
My hands trembled on the hilt. Though it must have known my intent, the scáde did not flee, did not attack.
I took a breath to steady myself for what must be done. But the intake of it pained me.
Lunging forward, I followed the steps I knew by heart. Three quick movements, a spin, then lifting the blade overhead to bring down on the beast's neck.
Magic surged within me and coursed through Cierthine as my catalyst ignited.
But it was not lightning. The violet light Cierthine exuded vanished beneath a layer of impenetrable black.
Shadows roiled around my blade, like living flame, like those cast by dancers in a theatre.
Cierthine slammed down on the scáde's neck, breaking its scales and cutting deep. The shadows flew from the blade to wrap around the wound, tearing it open.
Shrieking, I staggered back.
The scáde screamed in pain, and the song in its throat changed. A haunting wail pierced the night.
Something in the distance answered, with a mournful cry.
The shadows cut through the rest of the scáde's neck, spilling blood onto the ground. It slumped forward, crashing into the grass, lifeless.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, a new song began far, in the distance.
