“Inara!” Galanör sounded relieved. “Are you hurt?”
“Nothing that can keep me down,” Inara replied firmly. “You two look to be on top of things,” she added with a glance at the armour-clad bodies around them.
“We were separated from the others,” Aenwyn informed her, ridding Inara of her next question. “There are Darklings everywhere.”
Inara flicked her head over her shoulder. “I’ve already had the pleasure.”
“Are Gideon and Asher with you?” Galanör asked, looking up to the floor she had come from.
Inara shook her head. “We too were separated.”
Galanör looked despondent. “I fear this was his plan all along; lure us in to the mountains and then divide us.”
“We wouldn’t be the first to be devoured by The Bastion,” Inara remarked darkly.
“So dramatic, Sister!” Alijah’s voice came from every corner of the chamber, setting off the warrior instincts in the trio.
Backs together, they held up their blades and bow and frantically searched the shadows. There was no sign of Alijah, only the slight rattle of a chain from the upper levels.
“The Bastion is where power is forged!” Alijah continued from everywhere. “If you don’t have what it takes to survive, then these walls will become your tomb!”
“Show yourself!” Galanör commanded.
“I’m right here.” Alijah’s whisper turned all three of them around, but then an amused bout of laughter turned them back to the upper levels. “Would showing myself make a difference, Galanör?” The question preceded his appearance on the highest floor.
Aenwyn released her arrow without any hesitation. It sailed through the air with such speed and accuracy that no man could rightly stand against it. But Alijah was no ordinary man, if he could be called a man at all. He casually waved his hand and disintegrated the arrow in a cloud of fiery ash.
“Clearly not,” Alijah said, answering his own question. “Shall we move on to the part where you all die?” he asked smugly.
“You’re acting as if you’ve already won!” Inara called up to him. “We saved the tree, Alijah! Magic thrives in us! You can’t stand up to us all!”
Alijah tensed his jaw before pursing his lips. “Did that victory make you feel mighty, Sister? Destroying that tree was going to be a mercy!” he hissed. “In the absence of magic, every elf and Drake would have had eternity ahead of them! But now you and your rebellion have forced my hand! Now, I will have to eradicate them all! That blood will be on your hands!” the half-elf accused.
“The only blood on my hands will be yours, Brother,” Inara assured.
Alijah took a breath, taking the measure of her, perhaps. “We shall see,” he finally replied.
Athis’s mind suddenly came alive inside Inara’s and it was full of warning. He’s coming! the dragon blurted desperately.
Inara’s eyes flitted to the large doors on the other side of the chamber. “Shields!” she yelled, raising one hand.
Her warning was punctuated by a deafening crash. Both doors were blown inwards, the force of which tore them clean from their hinges. Behind them came Malliath’s gargantuan head and neck. With his jaws already ajar, the Dragon’s fiery breath was quick to create an inferno. The first to be alerted, Inara was the fastest to enact her shield spell, its fringes just wide enough to protect Galanör and Aenwyn until they erected shields of their own.
The fire washed over their magic and tried to creep in at the sides, but the elves extended their shields and kept it at bay. Facing Malliath, Inara’s efforts took the brunt of it. Ancient and massive as he was, the force of Malliath’s fiery breath was considerable; more than enough to test Inara’s magic, having used so much of it already. To her left, Galanör began to falter - the least schooled in the way of magic.
“Hold it!” she growled through gritted teeth.
As the heat inside their collective shield began to intensify, Malliath’s jaws clamped shut, leaving a cloud of dark smoke in the air. Unfortunately, Inara realised, he was just taking a breath. Her hand tightened around Firefly’s hilt as she started to draw on the magic stored in the crystal pommel.
But the next attack never came.
Claws as big as a man bit into Malliath’s sides and dragged him from the chamber. The black dragon roared in pain and writhed about, his bulk smashing through the stone archway. Athis the ironheart had him now. The red dragon sank his fangs into the back of Malliath’s neck and forced the behemoth away from The Bastion. Returning to the storm, their battle was renewed.
Inara lowered her hand and her shield with it. Through the smoke, she turned her head up to the highest tier of the chamber in search of Alijah. He appeared in a haze as he staggered away and disappeared through a door.
Galanör stepped forward, crossing the line from untouched stone to a charred and rough surface. The waves of heat rising from the floor were blown away in the mountain wind forcing its way into the chamber. “We have to go after him,” the elven ranger declared, tossing Aenwyn’s scimitar back to her.
Inara raised her hand to halt him. “We must tread carefully. He is likely baiting us into the next trap.”
“Of course he is,” Galanör replied. “But what choice do we have?” He placed a hand over the satchel clipped to his belt. “Our plan only works if we can get the—”
“Don’t say it!” Inara snapped, before the word Crissalith left his lips. “Assume the walls have eyes and ears in this place.”
Galanör gestured his understanding. “We still need to pursue him, regardless of the risk.”
“We’ve come too far to do anything else,” Aenwyn added.
Inara nodded her agreement before releasing
