Vighon ran to the jagged hole in the wall with Reyna and Nathaniel in tow. Outside, amidst a raging storm, Malliath whipped his head up and clamped his jaws, tearing the Golem in half at the waist. Before his legs could fall to the ground, the black dragon opened his wicked maw again. With the entirety of the Golem now in his mouth, Malliath chewed vigorously, turning Sir Borin into pulp before gulping him down.
Then, rain bouncing off his glistening scales, Malliath turned his purple eyes on the three sovereigns of Verda.
“Run,” Vighon uttered. “Run!” he yelled.
Before he had even taken his first step, the northman knew this was the end - they weren’t faster than a dragon, especially this dragon. In that briefest of moments, Reyna had come to the same conclusion as Vighon and didn’t even try to escape. Instead, she aimed an arrow at the ancient beast, intent on doing as much damage as possible before death took her.
The fate of all three, however, was altered at the last possible second. To Vighon’s eyes, Avandriell came from nowhere as she rammed into the side of Malliath’s head, forcing him away from the hole in the wall. The smaller dragon grappled with the much larger horned head, her claws scraping and her jaws gnashing. Malliath roared and moved back from The Bastion so that he might swat her away but, by then, Avandriell had succeeded in dragging her claws down and over his left eye.
Vighon recoiled from Malliath’s next roar, a sound so loud and fierce it could have cracked the sky. Avandriell pushed off from his face and beat her wings with all haste. Malliath did not require so much effort to take off in pursuit of her, his enormous wings buffeting the wind and rain towards the fortress.
Only seconds later, Athis cut through the sky behind him. Vighon leaned out of the hole to follow the red dragon, looking to see if Inara was with him, but the storm battering the mountain side concealed everything.
A strong hand gripped the king’s arm, turning him back to the passage. Nathaniel let go of him to return both hands to his sword and face the six Reavers striding towards them. Reyna adjusted her aim, sighting the fiends down the length of her arrow. Vighon looked back at her when she failed to release the devastating missile. The elven queen’s attention had been snatched away, her head tilted to one side and a look of concern growing on her face.
The northman stole a glance at the approaching Reavers, checking the time they had left. “What’s wrong?” he asked her urgently.
Following her gaze to the hole in the wall, Vighon moved back to the threshold where the wind attempted to steal his cloak. Besides the raging storm, there was another sound carried in the wind, a terrible cacophony of shrieks and screams. Daring to poke his head through the gap, Vighon looked upon the black stone above the hole.
“Darklings!” he warned, stepping back and raising his fiery blade.
Nathaniel bent his knees, bracing himself into a defensive stance. “We sure could do with a Golem right about now,” he remarked.
Vighon never thought he would miss Sir Borin and he certainly didn’t have time to miss him now. A violent clash turned the northman to the head of the passage, from where the Reavers were still advancing. He had to look twice when he realised that it had been caused by a familiar ranger. Asher had charged out of a side passage swinging his broadsword.
Reyna didn’t hesitate to burst into a charge of her own, lending her bow and scimitar to the fight. Vighon was close behind her, his flaming sword held high. By the time they reached the Reavers, Asher had cut down three of them and savagely maimed two others. Reyna challenged a one-armed Reaver, easily besting the disadvantaged fiend with a clean swipe across its neck. Vighon met the remaining two, one of which took searing silvyr through the visor, leaving the last to be kicked back and decapitated in a wide swing with the sword of the north.
Asher straightened up, his breath ragged. “Where’s Galanör and Aenwyn?” he questioned, no doubt wondering where their secret weapon was.
“We lost them,” Reyna told him, half-turning to face the hole Malliath had opened in the fortress wall. “Because of them,” she said with disdain as thirty or more Darklings poured into the passage.
“Where’s Inara and Gideon?” Vighon asked quickly.
“We got separated,” Asher said, making for the side-passage from which he had emerged.
“Wait!” Reyna blurted, looking back at the Darklings. “Where’s Nathaniel?” she asked with panic in her voice.
Asher and Vighon scanned the passage but only a glance was required to determine Nathaniel’s absence. “He was with you?” Asher checked.
“Only a moment ago,” Vighon confirmed.
“We need to find him!” Reyna was taking a step towards the Darklings when Asher grabbed her by the arm.
“We need to keep moving,” he told her to the sound of terrible shrieks and growls. Reyna protested but allowed the ranger to drag her away. “This way!” he commanded. “Quickly!”
Vighon was right behind the ranger. “He was just with us!”
Asher paused at a junction before dashing to the left. “Nathaniel can take care of himself.”
The northman’s frustration wasn’t going anywhere, just as Reyna’s concern wasn’t. “Where are the others?” he asked, hoping to piece together something good from this mess.
“Gideon went after Vilyra and Godrad, down into the valley.” The ranger stopped in the new hallway to take in the various doors that lined the walls. “In here!” he instructed, opening the second door on the right. After everyone filed in, he gently closed the door, bade them to be silent, and braced himself with his sword pointed at the wood.
The Darklings were soon scurrying down the passage, their bony fingers and limbs clattering against the stone. They
