‘Get on with it,’ boomed Deathfang.
‘Of course. Right. It’s true; I can block the powers of the gods. Not all powers; I can’t prevent them using earthquakes or fireballs, but death powers – those I can stop. And, I can shield any dragon that stays within a hundred yards of me; if we stick close together, then no death powers will affect you. That’s the key – a hundred yards. Within that circle, no gods will be able to harm us.’
Deathfang stared at her. ‘You will accompany us.’
Kelsey gulped.
‘We are taking an enormous risk,’ said Burntskull. ‘Can we trust what the insect says?’
‘I am a witch, like Sable,’ said Kelsey. ‘I am a Holdfast.’
‘And I am a living witness that she speaks the truth,’ said Frostback. ‘Were it not for Kelsey, the Ascendant would have killed me in the forests of Kinell. I will carry Kelsey upon my back during the attack.’
‘Then you agree with my plan, my daughter?’ said Deathfang.
‘I will follow your lead, father.’
Aila stepped forward, her eyes darting from dragon to dragon. ‘I also want to come.’
‘Why?’ said Burntskull. ‘What use will you be?’
‘None, but the father of my child is in Alea Tanton. His name is Corthie Holdfast, Kelsey’s brother, and he is the greatest mortal warrior alive. He is fighting the Ascendants, as you intend to do. We could join forces with him.’
Deathfang pondered for a moment. ‘Will you carry her also, my daughter?’
‘I will, father.’
‘Then, it is agreed. The children will remain here in this valley, along with those assigned to protect them, and I will lead the attack, with Frostback by my right shoulder, and every other dragon capable of making the journey. Darksky, I appoint you to lead those who remain.’
Darksky tilted her head. ‘I shall do as you command, my lord.’
‘And I?’ said Burntskull. ‘Perhaps I should remain too, in order to help with the children.’
Deathfang laughed. ‘No, my old friend. You shall be on my left when we descend to Old Alea, to deliver flame and death to our enemies.’ He scanned the crowd. ‘Dragons, my beloved kin, prepare yourselves, for we will leave shortly. It shall be a red dawn, a bloody dawn of screams and terror; one that shall never be forgotten.’
Chapter 27
The Broken City
A lea Tanton, Tordue, Western Khatanax – 4th Kolinch 5252
Corthie and Van stole down the farm track, passing a burning barn on their left, the flames rising up into the night sky. The gelding was frightened of the flames, but Corthie urged him on with soft words and a firm hand on the reins. They were on foot again, after having ridden the gelding on and off for most of the journey south. The remains of the city of Alea Tanton were on their right, a mile or two away over the fields, which were crowded with the survivors of the waves and earthquakes. Beyond, huge flames were coming from an area of the city that Van had told him was the Shinstran district, and many injured civilians were lying out in the open, screaming and wailing from burns they had received in the inferno.
Van stumbled, and Corthie shot out his free hand to grab him before he could fall.
‘Do you need to go back on the horse again?’ he said.
‘No, I’m fine,’ said Van; ‘just keep going.’
Corthie frowned at the former mercenary. He looked far from fine. They had travelled over twenty miles since the last wave had struck the city, and Corthie had kept up a fast pace, hurrying towards the high promontory of Old Alea. He could see it clearly in the distance, the light sandstone cliffs reflecting the glow from the fires raging through the slums at its base.
He squinted. ‘Are there faces carved into the side of Old Alea?’
Van blinked, exhaustion etched into his features, along with the dried blood from the cut across his cheek.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘the faces of the gods who ruled Alea Tanton. I think a few of them might be dead.’
‘They carved their own faces into the rock?’
‘You may not have realised this,’ said Van, ‘but some of the gods have a high opinion of themselves.’
Corthie gave a wry smile.
‘Can we stop for a moment?’ Van said. ‘Just long enough for me to have a cigarette? It might be my last.’
They came to a halt once they had cleared the barn. Corthie looped the horse’s reins round a gate post as Van sat on the ground and lit a cigarette.
‘I can’t believe you handed over a gold sovereign to buy those things.’
Van shrugged. ‘The world is ending; what else am I going to spend my money on?’
The ground shook, and the horse whinnied in fear.
‘It’s alright,’ said Corthie, stroking its flank as the tremors settled.
‘But it’s not, though, is it?’ said Van. ‘The earthquakes are coming every few minutes. We passed the location of the Southern Pits a little while ago. You used to be able to see them from here, they were so tall, but they’ve gone, completely gone. Who knows what will be left by dawn?’
‘Old Alea will be left,’ said Corthie.
‘And how are we going to get in? I reckon that, by now, thousands of refugees will have tried to escape to the heights of Old Alea, but none of them will have made it through the gates. I’ve seen them; they’re as well protected as the fortifications in the Falls of Iron.’
‘We’ll think of something.’
Van nodded, but his eyes were disconsolate.
Four men emerged from the shadows of the burning barn, each armed with homemade weapons.
‘Your horse,’ cried one, brandishing a long, curved knife; ‘hand it over.’
Corthie eyed them. ‘Or what?’
‘We need that beast,’ the man shouted; ‘our families are starving.’
‘You’ll have to look elsewhere for food, lads,’ said Corthie. ‘The horse is mine.’
‘I don’t want to have to kill you; just give us the horse.’
‘He can’t be reasoned with,’ snapped another, wielding a blacksmith’s hammer; ‘he’s made his decision. Get him!’
Corthie decided not to
