“Almost there,” he said, trying to keep them calm. “Me first, again.”
He crept to the edge of the downed building, looked left and right, and then crossed the next street.
Halfway through it, the firebolt slashed down from somewhere behind and to his right, narrowly missing him. It exploded against the street and the shockwave flung Altair off to the side, peppering him with stone shards.
He responded instantly, lightning shooting forth, seeking its target, but the Infected had ducked behind cover.
Spreading his legs and steadying himself, Altair beckoned to the children with one hand. “Come on, run!” he said, lightning sparking in his free hand, ready to strike if the deadly creature showed itself.
The children streamed out into the street.
As if on cue, the Infected showed itself, fire blazing. Altair struck first, and harder, blasting it right in the face with a powerful lightning bolt. The Infected flew backward and out of sight.
Damn whoever set off the diversion ahead of time, he cursed. They had been fine until someone stirred up the city early. Now after this fight, attention would be coming down on them as well.
The next few minutes was a blurred rush of rubble and running as he tried to get his charges closer to the edge of the city, where backup awaited, ready to ferry the young to safety.
He emerged from the far side of a building. The city’s edge was in sight now. Almost there.
“Altair!” one of the children shouted from behind him as he darted across the street.
Whirling, he watched in horror as two Infected appeared behind his charges, black blades slicing downward with deadly precision.
Fury erupted in Altair and he lashed out with both hands. Lightning struck both Infected at once, deflecting their blows as the former Onyx Clan members stumbled backward.
“Run for it!” he shouted, air shrieking as it spun around his hands like a chainsaw, the sheer speed of it slicing apart anything it came across. The noise was loud, and would bring plenty of attention down on them, but if he couldn’t stop the two Infected, then it was all for naught anyway.
Putting himself between the retreating children and the deadliest enemies his kind had ever faced, Altair prepared to die. He didn’t foresee himself emerging victorious from this fight. The Onyx clan, earth shifters, were among the most powerful dragons. And he was facing two of them.
Blades whipping around, he went on the attack, driving them both back with the ferocity of his onslaught, but they quickly rallied and came on hard. Altair retreated three steps at a time, doing everything he could to buy the children some time.
They were so close. So close.
If only we’d had another five minutes. We would have made it!
Wind swirled under his feet and he leapt back up and over a ruined building, landing on the street beyond with a slightly bent knee.
The Infected were carried over on streams of onyx metal, a crystalline-like bridge that extended in front of them, depositing them in front of him.
Altair fought with everything he had. Not for his life, but for the children. They were still running for the edge. For safety. If he could just delay the Infected a little longer...
Suddenly, fire whipped between them. He turned to see another dragon coming on. For a second, he moaned at the unfair odds, until he realized the attacker was one of his allies.
“The children!” he roared. “Save the children!”
But Kirren didn’t heed his call. The fire dragon wanted a piece of the Infected, and he came on hard, twin swords of fire blazing as he took them on.
Angry at his comrade but grateful for the respite, Altair turned to rush after the children, leaving the other dragon to continue the fight.
He bulled his way through a downed house, trying to catch up, timber and stone exploding as he used his full strength.
They were just ahead, the frost dragon youth chivvying them on, running for it. The gates were in sight.
“No!” Altair screamed in horror as a dragon as black as the earth itself exploded from the ground nearby. Its tail caught him in the chest, sending him flying across the street to slam into a stone wall and fall to the ground.
He watched in stunned terror as the glittering sable creature ended any hope of Altair’s mission being a success, tearing the lives from the helpless young.
There was a roar from where he’d left Kirren, and a second later, the fire dragon’s headless body landed in the opening between Altair and the onyx dragon, whose yellow-orange eyes were swiftly turning toward the storm dragon.
“No,” he said weakly, his mind refusing to accept what had just happened. “No!”
He lashed out wildly, angrily, pain gnawing at his stomach, at his entire being from what he’d just witnessed. From what he’d been unable to stop.
“We were so close!” he howled. “We should have had more time!”
His lightning blasts were striking at random, falling from the sky and from his hands as he attacked anything that moved, stuck in a nightmare he couldn’t escape.
Something moved behind him. He tried to turn, but a blow to the back of his head sent him tumbling forward.
Suddenly, Altair was face down on cool stone. The skies were gone. The rubble was gone. The dead bodies were gone.
He blinked as something grabbed his shoulder and rolled him over. Altair found himself looking up at Rane, the other storm dragon’s face filled with concern, even as his fist was pulled back, poised to strike Altair if needed.
“It happened again, didn’t it?” he whispered, sagging weakly into the floor.
“Yes.” Damien appeared above him. His hand was extended outward, toward Altair.
Together, Rane and Damien helped him
