pierced the abbey’s wall and entered. The smoke was thicker behind the wall, stinging his eyes and stealing the breath. He cursed it and peered through it, trying to get his bearings, trying to see the stables or what was left of them.
Only one building was on fire, but the stable yard was filled with demons. Their heinous bats darted about or perched on the roof. He saw no sign of the wyverns or Brother Barnaby. Recalling the gruesome and horrifying deaths of the nuns, Sir Ander was sick with dread. He longed to rush in and kill every demon in sight. Sir Ander was an experienced soldier and he knew better than to let hatred and vengeance guide him. He told himself not to give up hope. Brother Barnaby was quick-thinking and intelligent. Sir Ander pictured his friend hiding somewhere, waiting for help.
In that case, help needed to arrive in one piece.
Sir Ander was thinking he would circle around the cathedral, using the smoke for cover, and come up on the demons from behind. A roar caught his attention. He looked up to see a dragon soaring over the abbey walls. Droalfrig coming to his brother’s aid. The dragon was about twenty feet above the walls and the direction of his flight would bring him near Sir Ander.
He had only seconds to make a decision. A gunshot would alert the demons to his presence. He decided to risk it and fired the musket into the air-taking care not to hit the dragon-and used his best battlefield bellow to call Droalfrig’s name.
The dragon heard the gun blast and saw the flash of fire. He snaked his head around and Sir Ander saw a dragon rider seated on the dragon’s back, near the neck. Sir Ander waved his arms, threw down the musket, and broke into a run.
The dragon rider coolly looked in the direction Sir Ander was indicating and saw the demonic force surrounding the stables. The dragon rider waved his arm in return and bent forward to speak to the dragon. Sir Ander cast a glance at Hroal, who was fighting his own battle. Hroal had slain one of his foes. He had only two to contend with now and, though he had a bloody gash on his chest, he was holding his own. Droalfrig shifted the direction of his flight toward the stables, roaring a challenge as he went.
The demons could both see and hear the dragon bearing down on them. Those on the ground summoned their mounts, while the demons in the air flew to the attack, raising their handheld cannons to their shoulders. Green fire burst around Droalfrig. Sir Ander had lost sight of the rider, but assumed he was flattened against the dragon’s neck, keeping his head down.
Sir Ander wondered about this reckless rider; a man rash enough to jump on the back of a dragon. Perhaps he was a sailor from the cutter. Whoever he was, Sir Ander was grateful to him and to Droalfrig. Most of the demons and their riders had taken to the air to fight the dragon, leaving only a couple on the ground, standing near the smallest of the three stables. The thought came to Sir Ander that these demons had been left behind, perhaps to guard something. Or someone.
The smoke that he had cursed was now Sir Ander’s ally. Concealed by the smoke and the deep shadow of the stable building cast by the morning sun, he counted three demon guards near the entrance to the stable, all of them gazing into the sky, intent on the battle between the dragon and their comrades.
Sir Ander was certain these demons had been left behind to stand guard duty and he looked around. What he saw made his heart leap with hope and then constrict with fear. Two monks-Brother Barnaby and, astonishingly, Brother Paul-were on their knees on the ground. Their hands were bound behind them. They had ropes looped around their necks.
Overhead, Droalfrig was roaring and breathing out his flaming breath. A burning bat tumbled out of the sky, almost crashing down on Sir Ander, who ducked beneath an awning. The dead bat landed on its rider, who was also on fire. Sir Ander was amazed to see the rider suddenly flare with green light and then vanish. He wrenched his gaze away from this astonishing sight and looked back at the two monks in time to see a fourth demon emerge from the stables.
The demon raised a scourge, its tips crackling with fire, and brought the whip down across the back and shoulders of Brother Barnaby. The young monk sank to the ground. The demon stood over him and raised the whip again.
Sir Ander’s experience and training went up in flames of rage. Never mind that he was outnumbered four to one, not counting the bats. Holding one of the nonmagical pistols in his left hand and his dragon gun in the right, he broke cover and ran to save Brother Barnaby.
Stephano, riding on Droalfrig’s back, flew directly over the black yacht adorned with the symbol of the Arcanum. He saw the damage done to the yacht, as well as the smoldering remains of bat carcasses. A person on the roof manning a swivel gun looked amazed to see a dragon rider. Stephano waved at him and the man waved somewhat hesitantly back.
Stephano was not surprised to find the Arcanum had come to investigate the attack on the abbey, nor was he surprised the Arcanum’s representatives had come under attack. The Arcanum was a force to be reckoned with. Even the Fallen One must hold them in respect. Stephano knew his mother certainly did. He was curious to know what the priest had discovered about these demons.
As Droalfrig flew over the abbey walls, Stephano saw a large group of demons and bats gathered in what appeared to be a stable yard. He wandered what they were doing. Droalfrig was not interested. He was flying straight to his brother, when he and Stephano both heard the report of a musket and saw the flash of fire. They looked down to see a man on the ground obviously trying to attract their attention.
The man wearing armor was pointing at the demons. As Stephano watched, the man broke into a run, heading for the demons. Stephano understood. He shouted at Droalfrig.
“Demons! By the stables! They’ve taken prisoners!”
Droalfrig turned his head. Sighting the demons, he glanced at his brother, saw that Hroal was holding his own in his battle and could manage. Droalfrig gave a rumbling growl and switched the direction of his flight.
Demons flew to meet them. Stephano raised his dragon pistol, but he did not fire. Droalfrig could do far more damage with his breath. The demons fired their hellish cannons, but they were disorganized and unprepared, and their aim was off. Green fireballs soared far above the dragon’s head.
Droalfrig’s breath was right on target. He spewed out a great gust of flame that engulfed the lead bats and their riders. Seeing their comrades go down in flames, the other demons hastily flew out of the dragon’s range.
If the demons are smart, Stephano reflected, they’ll attempt to flank us, come at us from the rear.
Droalfrig soared over the stable roof and made a banking turn. Stephano had been keeping an eye on the man on the ground, saw him take cover beneath an awning. Stephano noted the demons standing guard, and he guessed immediately that the man, who had the bearing of a soldier, was attempting to rescue the captives.
“Set me down!” Stephano yelled to Droalfrig.
The dragon would be far more effective battling demons in the air without having to worry about dumping his rider. Stephano would be of more use on the ground.
Beyond the stables was pastureland where the horses and other occupants would have been turned out to graze. Droalfrig swooped down low, slowing his flight as much as possible. Stephano slid off the dragon’s back and landed with a bone-jarring thud on all fours in the grass. Droalfrig soared into the sky. Two more demons had joined in the battle against Hroal, who was clearly starting to tire.
“Go help your brother!” Stephano yelled, jumping to his feet.
Droalfrig dipped his head in acknowledgment and flew off. Stephano drew his dragon gun. He had reloaded after killing the demon on the Cloud Hopper. He had one shot and then it would be saber work.
The demons and their captives were at the north end of the stables. He entered the stables from the south, gun drawn, searching the stalls as he ran for more demons who might be lurking there. Through the gate at the end, Stephano saw two monks on the ground and a demon standing over them with a whip in his hands.
A pistol report and the demon with the whip went down. The man with the soldierly bearing came into view. The three demons standing guard had been watching the dragon. They now turned at the sound of the gunshot. Before they could react, the man raised a second pistol and fired at point-blank range, hitting one demon in the face. As this demon fell, the man reached into his belt to grab another pistol.
He did not have time for a shot. The demons had been caught by surprise, but they swiftly recovered. Two of them leaped on the man and pummeled him with their fists. The man fell to the ground. Stephano leveled his pistol, but did not have a clean shot. A demon seized an ax and was about to swing. Stephano aimed his dragon gun and
