the silver wings still in his hind claws and knocked the blades away. It was too late to save Vance, she knew, as she shot toward his body. But the skywall bow was caught in his limp fingers. If they were swarmed again, she would need it.
Vance's eyes were still open. He seemed to smile contentedly as she reached out, snatching the bow and jerking it away.
She slung the bow over her shoulder, which still throbbed terribly from the earlier catapult attack. If the blow had caught her on the ground instead of in the air, it would likely have broken her bones instead of merely bruising her.
She shot back toward the battle above. Poocher was being ignored by Vulpine at the moment, so the supply of arrows weren't in imminent danger. She could give her full attention to Vulpine.
Unfortunately, Jeremiah decided to give Vulpine his full attention first. He charged the slavecatcher, lashing out with his torch. Anza's battle-trained eyes could instantly see what was to come next.
Vulpine released the silver wings he carried and kicked out, knocking the torch from Jeremiah's grasp. The slavecatcher caught Jeremiah's slender throat in his left hind-talon.
With his right hind-talon, he caught the upper edge of Jeremiah's wings near the shoulder. He pulled, tearing Jeremiah free of his wings. The slavecatcher dropped the wings, which tumbled away in the wind.
Then, he let go of Jeremiah.
VULPINE SMILED AS the giant man released of the net of barrels he carried and dove to save the boy. He was now alone in the sky with the pig-an absurd figure barely worth his attention-and the girl, who he'd seen in action at Burke's Tavern.
She rose in the air on her silver wings. Steel tomahawks dropped into her hands. He could tell as he studied her that her left arm was injured. She was more graceful in the air than her companions, but Vulpine had seven decades more experience in aerial combat.
She threw the tomahawks. The one from her left hand went wide of its mark. He caught the second one in his hind-talon.
'Care to try again?' he taunted as he glided in an arc around her. She did possess one mild advantage-she could hover. Vulpine had to keep moving to maintain flight.
In his experience, humans wore their thoughts on their faces. He often knew their next actions before they did. This woman was different. As she watched him move, her face grew blank, utterly devoid of emotion.
Suddenly, she shot toward him with an impossible burst of speed. Her right hand moved toward her shoulder and came back holding a razor sharp sword.
He twisted his torso, allowing the blade to slip into the thin flesh of his wing just beyond his ribs. It stung, but there were no major nerves or arteries there. He swiveled his jaws around and clamped them down onto her wings. The metal made his tongue tingle. With his hind-talon, he grabbed her ankle and jerked.
It took no more than a tenth of second to strip her of her wings.
She fell, still with the look of utter dispassion on her features.
She reached out and caught the looped whip on his belt with her right hand. Her sudden weight tugged him down. He beat his wings to regain his balance. A knife appeared in her left hand. She thrust it over her head, sinking it into the center of his breastbone.
If this had been her good hand, Vulpine knew he would be dead. As it was, the blade caught in the bone. Pain radiated through his whole body, but the blow wasn't fatal.
'A good effort,' he said, craning his neck toward her. 'I suspect you might have won on the ground.' He snapped his jaws onto her cheeks, sinking his teeth down until they rested on her skull. She let go of both the blade and his whip, and reached for his mouth. Her hands never reached their target.
He opened his jaws and gravity claimed her. As she slipped into freefall he saw, at last, fear flash into her eyes.
It was a most satisfying sight.
'So much for the angels,' he said. 'Where's the damned pig?'
There was a grunt at his back.
He craned his neck and saw the black and white beast gliding along behind him, his snout only inches from the tip of Vulpine's tail.
'You'll do nicely for dinner,' said Vulpine.
The pig snorted. With the barest boost of speed, he shot forward the final inches.
Vulpine winced as the pig's jaws clamped down on the last vertebrae in his tail.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR:
DAWN OF A GOLDEN AGE
VULPINE'S TAIL WAS stretched straight as an arrow. He kicked, trying to reach the beast that held him, but his tail was much longer than his legs. He beat his wings harder. The bones along his spine popped. The pig simply wasn't flying as fast as he.
It finally occurred to him that if he slowed down, he would have the slack needed to reach the pig.
It occurred to the pig at the same instant to fold up the silver wings that held him aloft.
Vulpine was yanked from the sky as swiftly as if he had an anchor tied to him. His head whipped skyward as he dropped. In the space where he'd just been, several of his feather-scales floated in the air. He spread his wings, straining desperately to control their descent. They were falling toward Dragon Forge.
ON THE WALLS of Dragon Forge, Burke paid no attention to the battle overhead. He knew Anza and Vance could handle anything that was thrown at them, and would keep Jeremiah and Poocher safe. Instead, he focused his attention on the spy-owl. The catapults to the south were nothing but splinters. To the east and west, the dragons milled about in confusion, unsure of their orders.
The northern catapult didn't suffer from this lack of guidance. Here, the catapults were being loaded with barrels of pitch and oil. They were still a minute or two away from being able to fire, however. More than enough time to aim the cannon his men had just mounted on the wall.
ANZA SPREAD HER arms, turning to face the ground as she fell. The wind was like a giant invisible hand that held her in the sky. Of course, since the ground was racing nearer, the giant invisible hand wasn't doing a very good job.
The river was too far to reach. There were no convenient hay piles in sight. The sky-dragons who'd filled the sky earlier had gone into retreat.
She sighed. The world beneath her was beautiful. True, the hills around Dragon Forge were covered with decaying corpses and barren red earth cut through with deep gullies. The trees were twisted and stunted, and the whole area was so polluted it was as if giant buckets of ash had been dumped. But in her heart, she knew she would miss this world terribly.
A long, muscular arm wrapped around her waist. Her descent came to a sudden halt as Stonewall's momentum carried her parallel to the earth. She looked across at Jeremiah, who gave her a weak wave. She looked up into the gleaming eyes of her rescuer.
'I didn't mind catching Jeremiah, and I don't mind catching you, but I can't make any promises about the pig.'
She nodded.
'You're brave,' he said, as he wheeled to the north. 'You didn't scream when you fell.'
She smirked. The thought had never even crossed her mind.
IT TOOK ALL the strength left in Vulpine's wings to guide their fall toward the northern catapults. The pig still dangled from his tail, forcing his spine perfectly perpendicular to the earth. His wings were spread into twin parachutes, giving him some control, though they were still going to hit the ground hard. At least the pig would hit first.
He saw Sagen next to the loaded catapults, gawking at the odd sight of his father and the pig.
Vulpine was too winded to call out for assistance. No matter. When they hit the ground, he'd make short work
