“We are coming for you,” Inara promised threateningly, though her biting response was more reflex than anything. “There’s nowhere you can hide, be it sky, earth, or sea.”
The Reaver continued to stare at the Guardian through the narrow slit in its helmet. “Who is we exactly? Are you referring to the poor souls freezing to death on The Moonlit Plains? Perhaps you speak of the dwarves and their broken clans, bereft of kings and leadership. Or the elves? Without their magic they will fall to dragon fire by the hundreds!” The Reaver laughed again. “What will you do, dearest Sister? March thousands of men through winter with naught but the dying flames of Vighon’s sword to keep them warm?”
Inara could feel her heart pounding in her chest as her grip tightened around Firefly , the blade itching to be freed from its scabbard. “Before the last vestiges of magic ebb away, Athis and I will descend upon you with wrath and ruin. This I promise you, Brother.”
“You are welcome to try,” Alijah goaded. “I’m not hiding. I’m waiting. Unlike The Rebellion, I don’t rush into everything with a war cry. I’m a dragon,” he boasted. “I observe my prey and wait for the opportune moment to strike. Though I would urge you to find me soon, before Athis loses his place in the sky.”
Inara felt the sting of his words but she used the time to reach out to her companion again. Nothing. She cursed the sound of her own voice as she longed to hear that of her dragon’s.
“How can you do this to your own kind?” Inara demanded. “Are you that broken and twisted?”
The Reaver’s head tilted, suggesting a degree of curiosity on Alijah’s behalf. “What are you talking about? I’m not doing—”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Inara snapped. “I’m talking to your master, the one holding your strings.”
The Reaver’s head whipped back into an upright position. “You sound ridiculous, Inara. I am the one who told you about the true bond between dragon and Rider. You just can’t accept me for who I am because you’ve always underestimated me,” he fumed.
“I saw the truth with my own eyes,” Inara told him, relishing every word. “I saw your wounds, wounds inflicted upon Malliath by Athis and Ilargo. I know who I’m talking to. So hear me, Malliath the voiceless. I know your weakness now. And I will kill him to destroy you.”
The Reaver housing Alijah’s consciousness twitched. Her brother’s voice came out but his words were fractured. Then the Reaver staggered backwards as one of its hands reached up to touch its helmet in distress. The warrior in Inara had enough sense to know a fight before it broke out. Firefly was freed of its scabbard with a satisfying sound and a flash of steel, just in time to parry the first attack from one of the other Reavers.
The Guardian spun on her heel, bringing her into the heart of them. For most warriors, such a move would assure their doom but, to a master of the Mag’dereth, the Reavers were right where she wanted them. Firefly’s steel edge lashed out in a sweeping arc, pushing four of her enemies back before she brought a two-handed strike into the neck of the fifth, relieving it of its head.
At the same time, Governor Harlan dashed for cover behind his desk. Inara tried to keep herself between him and the knights of Erador but the remaining four pressed towards her. Between their approaching helmets, she glimpsed Alijah’s Reaver standing to the side as if struck by a daze. There was no time to ponder on its condition for she needed to move every limb to deflect and counter all at once.
These undead fiends, however, were no match for one who had spent the better part of two years cutting them down. One by one they fell at her feet absent the body parts that identified them as humans. When there were four more heads added to the floor, rolling around her feet, a familiar voice resounded inside her mind.
Inara! Athis called with alarm.
With no time for words, Inara transferred her recent memory across their bond, informing the dragon of her situation in less than a second.
I’m coming! he replied with a growl in his tone.
Alijah’s Reaver snapped back to life with a wild swing of its sword. Inara easily avoided it with footwork alone and responded with a flick of Firefly’s sharp edge across its leg. The force of it dropped the Reaver to one knee before the Guardian. Its eyes flashed from within its shadowy helmet and, for just a moment, Inara was sure they had been the purple reptilian eyes of Malliath looking back at her.
It was incapable of looking at anything after she thrust the tip of her scimitar through its visor and head.
No sooner did she pull her blade free than yet more Reavers poured into the room. Given the limited space of the study and the swelling number of enemies, Inara concluded that the odds were quickly stacking against her. Out of the corner of her eye, Inara could see Governor Harlan sinking further under his desk and disappearing into the shadows. Since he was as safe as he could be, the Guardian of the Realm decided to take control of the environment.
“Come and get me.” Her words were the only warning they were going to get before she turned on her heel and dived through the nearest window.
Alijah pushed off from the ancient throne of Atilan and stumbled across The Bastion’s main hall. Beads of sweat ran down his face and dripped onto the cold floor as he fought back the urge to be sick. Inara’s voice reverberated through the passages of his mind, her every syllable creating destruction
