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CHAPTER30
THE CENTICORE AND THE SWORD
Hywel and the others will join him, Laszlo assured me as we neared the plateau.See, the Wyrm is slithering up the mountain now.
"And if he turns on Conall?" I murmured.
Laszlo turned restlessly in the air.Aim at him for now. We will watch.
Rolant wasn't the only one ascending the mountain. Asterion was climbing, the faintest flicker of his gold-tipped horns catching my eye for a moment.
"Where's Hywel?" I hissed, frowning.
Respecting Conall's right to the challenge, Laszlo answered.See that breeze there, stirring the weed that clings to the wall around the cliff?I hummed in assent when I saw it. That's a troll. They'll attack at the worst possible moment. Hywel is watching them.
I sighed, slipping my sweaty fingers through Laszlo's fur, soothing myself and taking a grip on the body of the crossbow once more.
Don't worry, dear one. There are unknowns still, but our odds are easy.
It was at that moment that a cluster of the werewolves, smaller beasts than Conall's broad body, streaked with white down their brown backs, all lunged together. I swallowed my cry, trying to watch Rolant and Conall at the same time, wanting to fire the bolt at the attacking werewolves.
Make them count, Laszlo warned, as if sensing my eagerness.
I nodded, stare bouncing between the tangle of snarling bodies and the slow glide of the dragon crawling closer.
The Red Wolf's strength was quickly obvious. Conall swiped his claws in one motion, and yelps of pain went up. He dove, catching one werewolf by the scruff of his neck in huge red jaws, tossing the creature effortlessly aside. With four against him, he still easily outmatched them all.
It was a test.
A sharp cry rose from my throat as the swarm of werewolves all charged at Conall in unison. They leapt onto him from all sides until I couldn't see the brilliant fire of his fur under the mass of the attackers. Laszlo twisted us in the air, agitated.
"Take me lower!" I called.
Look!Laszlo answered.
Rolant was moving like a whip into the fray, and I held my breath, crossbow raised but knowing any shot I took would risk hitting Conall. And then Rolant's silver jaws snapped around one of the enemy werewolves, fastening to his back leg and tearing him off the churning mound. The werewolf was tossed over the side of the mountain with a broken yelp, and I winced but released a sigh.
The last red slice of sunset snagged on a crescent of steel crawling over the craggy edge. Asterion leapt onto the plateau and stood for a moment, assessing the scene. He'd peeled away his gentlemen's layers and stood bare chested, twin axes strapped to his back. Rolant was tearing werewolves away from Conall, who was starting to emerge bloody and fighting from the pack. Asterion reached back, bronze muscles rippling, and drew out the axes, hefting them in his grip.
"I feel useless!" I said, frowning down at the scene.
Better useless than sending Asterion into a panic,Laszlo warned me.
It was true. If I were on the ground, all of the men except Rolant would be fixated on not letting me get so much as a scratch or a bruise. With me safely in the air, they could focus and I could—
I gasped as a werewolf abandoned its savage grip on Conall, leaping over Rolant's back while he was busy with another and sneaking up behind Asterion.
"Lower!" I cried to Laszlo, bracing and holding myself on his back with the squeeze of my thighs as he dove. I lifted the crossbow to take aim, and Laszlo's flight was a steady shot toward the ground. When the dark streak of the werewolf was safely out of range of Rolant and before he could reach Asterion, I fired.
Laszlo's wings beat, and I pressed myself to his back as we jerked suddenly upward.
"Did I—" I twisted, almost falling off my gryphon in my effort to see.
You got him, Laszlo told me.You did well, dear one.
We settled in the air, and I stared down at the collapsed figure of the werewolf, a white line of fur splayed over the ground behind Asterion as he engaged himself with two who had turned from Conall.
"Find me another," I said, my voice grim.
