Asher cursed and hefted his blade before breaking into a run. He wasn’t in the habit of leaving good men to die, but there was so much more at stake than the lives of Vighon and his warriors.
Halfway across the plain, he watched the Reavers collide with Commander Rolgoth and his burly dwarves. The Centaurs reinforced them, leaping over the first line of dwarves to meet the enemy head on. The elves added a volley of their arrows into those bringing up the rear, but the fight was certainly upon them now.
Glancing skyward, the ranger quickly located Avandriell, her wings keeping the dragon far from peril. Asher could sense her irritation, desperate to join the fight but struggling to find her place in it all. Though he hadn’t told her to stay out of it, the ranger hadn’t kept his feelings to himself, expressing his apprehension through their bond.
In truth, he was just glad to see the tree’s slow death had yet to affect her. It hadn’t escaped him that Athis had not returned with Inara. He kept going over Adan’Karth’s words like a mantra, willing Avandriell to retain as much of her raw magic as possible until they could save the tree. Asher had always put a lot of stock in age and experience, but Avandriell’s youth would be the single factor that saved her life.
Closing the gap between him and the secondary battle, the ranger was almost brought to a halt by what he saw. The Reavers hardly cared about engaging their fierce enemy, using their undead horses as nothing more than battering rams to get closer to the pit. They immediately freed themselves of their mounts, turned away from the rebels, and deliberately avoiding as much conflict as possible on their way to the edge of the pit.
Then they jumped.
In droves, the Reavers leapt with abandon into the shaft as the Drakes descended the walkway around the outer wall.
Sprinting the last fifty yards, Asher took up pursuit behind the last of the Reavers. Spotting him from above, Avandriell sent waves of concern across their bond. The ranger could only ignore them and do what any other would consider madness.
He leapt in after them.
The billowing green of his cloak was added to the black of the Reavers as he left the security of Illian’s earth and plunged into darkness. The undead fiends slammed into everything from beams and walkways to bridges and pulley systems, their falling weight more than enough to splinter the wood. A handful of Drakes were caught in the downpour of bodies and taken to their deaths.
Mid-fall, Asher reached out with one hand and grasped a stray rope that flew across his path. In order to prevent any serious injury to his shoulder, the ranger immediately turned his momentum into a swing and aimed his body at the nearest bridge. He hit it hard and his knees objected to the impact, causing him to roll and, ultimately, slip between the gap in the railing supports. At the last second he succeeded in grabbing the ledge with both hands, though he was forced to let go of his broadsword in the process.
Heaving himself up, Asher quickly dived to one side, narrowly evading a Reaver who was making the leap from one of the pulley platforms onto the bridge. Since the dead required no time to recover, the Reaver advanced on Asher with a downward stroke of its sword. He heard the steel dig into the wood only a couple of inches away from his head, but the ranger already had his feet coming under him, ready to spring him back into the action.
The Reaver’s next swing was blocked when Asher snatched at its wrist, halting the blow mid-strike. A firm hand to the side of its helmet, his footing perfectly braced, the ranger launched the fiend through the railing and over the side.
Further along the bridge, two more Reavers were picking themselves up after their fall, no mind given to their broken limbs. They sighted Asher but quickly turned to meet the Drakes rushing down the spiralling walkway.
“No!” Asher growled, too far to stop them from cutting down a pair of Drakes.
He exploded into a charge only to be knocked off his feet after the second step. The Reaver that had collided with him took them both through the railing and on to a swaying platform. A good deal of pain shot up one side of the ranger’s body, but he didn’t let it stop him from raising a boot and kicking the Reaver off the edge of the platform.
Rising to his feet, he looked up to see that the two Reavers who had attempted to stem the flow of Drakes were meeting their end. Had they ever possessed any real sense, they would have known not to challenge Inara Galfrey. Firefly was a blur in her hands, its deadly edge reducing her foes to pieces in seconds. Behind her, Kassian Kantaris broke away and stood his ground on the bridge, holding back another group of Reavers.
Arriving with a style all of their own, Reyna, Nathaniel, and Faylen descended the other side of the shaft at some speed. The rope taking their platform’s weight, however, was clearly fraying, promising to release its hold on the lift altogether and drop them to their deaths. Seasoned warriors, they jumped from the platform only a moment before that eventuality and landed on another bridge just beneath Asher.
Having followed their descent, the ranger could see that all their problems were only just beginning. Reavers were picking themselves up in various places around the shaft and preparing to slaughter the passive Drakes. Asher grimaced, envisioning a lot more Drake deaths before they could reach the doorway at the bottom.
“We need to clear a path!” Inara shouted across to him.
Looking down, Reyna, Nathaniel, and Faylen had already taken up that task. The three warriors laid into the Reaver force, fighting with their
