It was all the magic Maria could spare. The top of the water tower was in sight. Despite the rain, once she got a footing up there, she would be able to better defend herself. She just had to keep going.
Her hands closed around the edge of the tower's top, and she pulled herself upward, now running on the reserve bit of energy she had left. There was no time to rest, because the Orc, possibly spurred on by the removal of his partner, had sped up. He was right behind her.
Maria scrabbled up the slightly raised top of the water tower and drew her sword. The Orc didn’t pull himself up slowly; no, he jumped, pulling himself into the air by the edge, defying all the basic laws of physics.
He landed with a crash. The wood split and cracked beneath his massive boots. The rain washed over Maria’s features, dampening her vision—but it was not hard to see the malice and evil present on the Orc’s face.
“Witch,” he grumbled, pulling his sword free.
“Orc,” Maria replied, her voice slightly humorous. “Listen, buddy, I’ve slain a few Orcs in my time. I really don’t want to waste any more precious seconds slaying you. So let’s make this quick.” She turned her back toward the Orc, focusing her senses on the situation—the wood straining as he lurched forward, the rain pattering all around them, his raised breathing, the smell of adrenaline and fear.
Maria whirled around just as he’d almost reached her and feigned a hit. It caught the Orc by surprise. He didn’t raise his sword to deflect it—didn’t need to—but he did stumble backward, his feet slipping on the surface of the sloped tower. He dropped his sword, pinwheeling his arms for balance. Maria reached out to try to grab him. As much as the beast wanted to kill her, she really did not want more blood weighing on her conscious.
It all happened so fast. Maria couldn’t help the Orc without risking falling herself. She watched as the Orc was there…and then he wasn’t.
The sickening crunch of his bones as he fell the three stories from the water tower filled her ears. The other Orcs cried out in disgust, in disbelief, Maria wasn’t sure, but she was sure of what they said next.
“Chop it down, boys! Make her come to us!”
Well, fuck.
Maria looked out toward the beach. The dragon had landed once more, and Hunter was in front of it, reading from his book, chanting words that carried over the storm. The ring of fire still protected him, the rain not affecting it.
Hunter’s eyes settled on Maria standing atop of the water tower. His voice boomed. “Hued fielder ujik!” he shouted and pointed.
The dragon’s massive head followed Hunter’s finger. Those blazing red eyes settled onto Maria. Her heart plummeted off of the water tower, leaving her body up there , empty.
But her bravery hadn’t wavered. She couldn’t let it. Looking out over the town, seeing all of the destruction and injured bodies lining the streets—undoubtedly townspeople and enemy alike—wouldn’t let her. Maria had to be brave for them, for the ones still standing and fighting, for her family, and for the villagers trapped in the world in between.
She raised her sword and shouted, “Yeah, lizard breath, come and get me!”
The dragon roared.
“Reis! Reis!” Hunter shouted. The dragon bent down and bit onto the back of Hunter’s cloak, bringing him upward. With a jerk of its head, Hunter flipped over and landed on the dragon’s neck. “Onreda! Onreda!”
The dragon flew straight up, the great blast of wind from its wings causing the rain to come at Maria like daggers. Maria was forced to stab her sword into the wood to prevent herself from being blown backward.
The dragon roared. Smoke and low flame flared from its nostrils. The sword-like teeth protruded from its great maw. It took everything Maria had inside of her to not cower.
She couldn’t. The stakes were too high.
Now the dragon was eye-level with her, carrying Hunter on its back, his own sword held high.
“I’m afraid your luck has run out, Maria!” he shouted. His voice took on an echo that carried across worlds. He was mad with the dragon’s power.
But Maria had the sword, the sword of Anwyn.
Suddenly, the blade thrummed with power. It caught Maria by surprise. What the fuck? Then, as if Anwyn’s sword had been possessed by his spirit—the blade spoke to her.
Attack, Maria, you must attack. The Dragon Tongue controls Odarth with false strings. Only you have the power to truly control it, to cut them.
“Sherlock?” Maria whispered. But no, that wasn’t Sherlock. Not his voice. Who?
I am Anwyn, Maria, a long distant relative. Now, attack! Attack for the sake of your family.
A lightning bolt came down from the heavens and met the tip of Hunter’s dark sword. It momentarily illuminated as bright as any sun. Hunter’s head tilted back, and insanity took his features.
This was Maria’s chance. If she didn’t take it now, she would die by fire or by fall, and dying was not in the cards today. Letting out a great battle cry, Maria took off across the slanted surface of the water tower. Before the wood ran out, she planted her feet and launched herself into the air. For a split second, it felt like Maria was floating. Then she hit the hard scales of Odarth with a jolt, almost falling from the great beast.
“No!” Hunter shouted.
Maria gripped one of the dragon’s great spikes to steady herself. “Yes!” Maria yelled back.
Inside of her head, that ancient voice from her sword was saying, Fight, Maria!
She swept her blade at Hunter, catching him off-guard, but not off-guard enough. The steel sparked and rang out as the swords kissed. He blocked her blow, but lost his footing. Maria saw this as plainly as she saw the dragon’s glittering scales beneath her feet. Her window of opportunity had just gotten wider, and she took it.
One hit. Two hits. Three hits.
Somehow each one
