Page 16 of Wings of Destruction

The dragon flicks his tail and cuts through the now smoky air as unicorns dart past them.

“There’s no sense in looking, child.”

Lanai sounds fearful now, and my stomach takes a deep dive. The warrior in black meets two of my people and cuts through them, their bodies dropping. Dead. He leaves a trail of blood behind him as he leaps down from his dragon and runs into the fray.

“They’re all going to die.”

Lanai sucks in a breath at my whisper. But when she speaks, her voice is louder than before.

“No. No, they’re not.” The lie slithers out of her mouth.

We can’t win without a miracle, and the knowledge settles in my bones as Lanai gives another plaintive tug on my hand. She forces my attention to her, and it costs me more than I want to admit to break my focus on the field.

“What?”

She widens her eyes at the needle sharpness of that word.

“If the rest of us are suffering through this cavern, then it’s only right for you to join us.” She’s sour on purpose.

I realize it even as my frustration grows.

“It may be cramped but it’s the best I can do,” I reply with a sniff.

“Seems to me like there should have been a better plan in place. If your mother wanted to have you accomplish this task for her⁠—”

“We’re safe, aren’t we?”

Lanai has gotten my nose out of joint, and I scrub it now like the motion will actually help the pounding in my head.

She tugs on the back of my tunic now with her opposite hand. “And what about supplies? Eh? How do you intend to keep the thirsty hydrated and the hungry sated?”

“I’m hopeful we won’t remain here long enough to need any supplies.” The words hiss through gritted teeth. “This is temporary.”

“How long?”

Her senses are keen even with the dulling of age. She wants me distracted, focusing on the children crying and the people shifting restlessly with their questions.

“I don’t have an answer for you.” Our eyes catch, and I gently pry her fingers free, stifling the desire to strangle her. “I’m sorry. Why don’t you sit? Rest?”

“I’ll rest when I’m dead,” Lanai maintains, resolutely.

I watch her, wiping the expression from my face, then wince when a whiny cry breaks into a high-pitched squeal. The sound pierces my eardrum and effortlessly cuts through the low chatter of complaints.

A toddler rocks forwards on his heels, his arms wide, eyes glassy when he pushes away from the wall. Crawling closer to me. Crying for his mother.

Ah, Ether take me.

My mind has been pulled in too many directions. I should be watching the children whose parents are out there fighting, not going head-to-head in a verbal sparring match with Fallkirk’s most ornery old woman.

Chastised by the reminder, I bend to take the child in my arms. The toddler would rather be anywhere but here and reacts with a kick to my kidney.

“You’re terrible at this,” Lanai says.

But my anger at her is spent. Not in general, not even diminished by a drop. But it’s useless to focus it on Lanai.

I dare a glance down at the curve-backed crone to find her watching me. “Please, join the others. They’ll listen to you. Tell them… anything.”

The toddler hiccups in my arms, squirming, but Lanai turns on her foot and shuffles back to the waiting presence of the two men who helped her up the mountainside.