Are you okay? the wizard’s fingers asked.
Yeah. Good enough.
As Perndara retreated from the knight, her long barbed tail struck the Dragon Gate’s shimmering surface and momentarily turned to smoke like anything about to pass through it would. She glanced back at it as Korrin called out to her.
“Back through the gate, dragon,” Ryan hollered, “or you will die here today!”
Her head whipped back around to him, furious eyes flashing. “Never! Never again!” Her giant jaws thrust at him, snapping, but he kept the lance between them. She retreated and Ryan lunged with the lance, stabbing her deeply in the neck. Perndara yanked backwards off of it and roared while blood spurted out.
The main doors behind Anna and Matt flew outward with a loud bang as two cult members arrived with a dozen mercenaries. Matt turned and a wall of crackling flames erupted from the floor between them, stretching to each wall. A tapestry caught fire on one end and quickly spread to the second floor, igniting another.
“How long can you do that?” Anna asked.
“I don’t know. I’m surprised I did it at all.”
Another commotion broke out to one side. “Focus on the fire,” Anna advised Matt, who didn’t follow her advice, looking over to see the next threat. The flame wall began to lower, then vanished altogether as men leapt over it with swords at the ready. Fortunately, the new commotion was the elves, Rognir, Nola, Cirion, and Cirion’s remaining henchman arriving to take on the mercenaries. Rognir and Morven stopped beside them.
“You all right, lass?” the dwarf asked, seeming relieved to see them.
“Yeah we’re okay.”
“Soliander,” Rognir started, giving Matt a pat, “assist Korrin while I show these elves how to fight.” He charged away with a clatter.
Morven had already let an arrow fly at the dragon’s head, but it bounced harmlessly off the golden scales as Perndara moved. A second arrow flew true but also ricocheted. The elf turned to the archers and began picking them off one by one.
As an arrow killed their lone henchman, Cirion and Nola ducked into a stairway to take in the scene. He spied Raith standing by the Dragon Gate, eyeing it hungrily, unmolested and apparently trusted by the dragon, but as Cirion watched, the wizard ascended the gate’s steps and cast a final look at the suddenly chaotic hall, making brief eye contact with the rogue. A flash of recognition preceded a condescending smirk before the wizard stepped onto the gleaming surface of the Dragon Gate. At once he turned to smoke, which retained his shape an instant before slowly dissipating across the portal, twisting around and down until it vanished. He was gone.
Nola cursed and fired her crossbow at the archers, picking off one before seeing movement from another balcony. She trained her bow on the lone figure but didn’t fire. Lorian had finally made it to the hall, his leg healed with a potion, his position on the balcony letting him assess the situation.
“Ryan,” he called, “it is Lorian. Do not take your eyes from the dragon. You have done well, but you must pierce her heart with the lance.”
“I don’t want to kill her,” Ryan replied.
“You have no choice. She will never let you near the gate alive.”
“I’m already closer to it,” the knight disagreed, advancing again, but then he stopped as a hail of arrows suddenly rained down on him. They bounced off harmlessly, but they distracted him enough that Perndara’s jaws snapped toward him and clamped down on the lance, yanking it from his grasp. She tossed it behind her where it clattered to the floor behind the Dragon Gate, with a triumphant glare returning to the knight.
“Shit!” Ryan cursed.
Eric saw this and began creeping along the wall. The archers didn’t react to his motion, but Perndara had sucked in a breath to roast him when a crackling bolt of lightning filled the room. A charred black wound, oozing dark blood, appeared in the dragon’s chest. Roaring in pain, the dragon changed her target and sent flames at the source of the lightning. Lorian saw the retaliation coming and ran back through the balcony door, diving to the floor and around a corner as scorching heat washed over him. The door and benches burst into flames as the former flew off its hinges and crashed against the wall nearby. He quickly patted his cloak to make sure he wasn’t on fire, too, then got to his feet to find another view point. This one stood blocked with flaming benches.
Ryan ran forward and swung hard at her good front leg before she could get her weight off it. The blade sliced into it easily, flinging blood out the other side as the sword passed through. She reared up on her hind legs to get away from the blade, spewing more fire over him instinctively, like a cat hissing at a threat.
“The charred spot on her chest,” Lorian yelled, “is where you must strike.”
Ryan couldn’t reach it without the lance, even if the dragon came down from her reared-up position,
