her boot and the grasses around it. The pain in her body dissipated. Moving its head back and forth, the dragon captured Catrin in its gaze once again.
Nodding, Catrin could formulate no thought beyond the need to save Kyrien, his wails once again punctuating the silence.
Catrin turned and walked to the northern end of the valley with a determined stride, her purpose clear; all that was left was to find him. If his wailing continued, that would not be difficult. Only when she left the soft grasses and climbed onto the uneven granite did she realize she was alone. The rest of the crew of the
Climbing with a mixture of sadness and grim satisfaction, Catrin moved toward Kyrien. The ascent was not difficult, and for much of the way, she followed a natural ridgeline that cut through two peaks. It wasn't long until Catrin saw things she recognized, and soon the hollow mountain emerged from the fog, its zigzagging stairs clinging to it like mighty serpents, crawling out of the archways that decorated the massive rock face. It had been in one of those halls that Catrin had faced Archmaster Belegra and only barely won. Now that mountain seemed entirely abandoned, only spirits roaming the dark halls.
Kyrien's wails echoed from the valley walls, and Catrin could not pinpoint the direction from which they came. Just past the hollow mountain, she turned north, hoping she was right. She listened, straining, and in the distance, she thought she heard someone calling her name. It was faint but persistent, and as she listened closely for Kyrien, she couldn't help but hear them calling for her. The voice was Kenward's, she was almost certain. And he sounded no more calm than the last time she'd heard him. She'd hoped the dragons would keep them in the valley and guard them while she went off to help Kyrien, but it seemed fate had other plans.
Torn and wanting to go back for them, Catrin forced herself to continue, though she cried at having to choose. If she was abandoning them, it was only for their own good. She doubted any of them would see it that way, but she persevered nonetheless.
Cold wind drifted to her, and beyond the valley lay the sea. Rising out of the surf, a megalithic beast climbed into the skies. Dark shapes filled the air around it, and its surface seethed like a kicked anthill. Demons scaled the rock face in unbelievable numbers, making it look as if the mountain were breathing. Ships crowded the shoreline, and formations patrolled the waters beyond. This was a well-organized, massive, lethal attack.
Diving and attacking anything that reached the higher parts of the mountain, Kyrien fought as if he wished to die. Her heart breaking, Catrin cried out to him, but all she got back was a wash of panicked energy filled with despair.
Catrin wanted to stop it for him, and she vowed to try, but she knew her power would be insignificant before such massive forces. The demons and giants outnumbered her by tens of thousands to one. How could she possibly hope to make any difference? She was worthless and small. Nothing she could do would stave off the inevitable. It would be far better to die in as quick a fashion as possible; that at least would end the pain, end the suffering.
The thoughts themselves were the only warning she had, but Catrin knew the thoughts were not hers, and she turned to find a small feral dragon stalking her. Low to the ground, it remained still for an instant, as if hoping Catrin wouldn't see it, but as soon as Catrin raised her hands, it lunged. Lightning crackled between them just before they collided, and both were sent sprawling. Catrin wasn't exactly certain she had attacked, and she wondered if the dragon had struck her with lightning. It seemed unlikely, since the dragon could just as easily have snapped her up in its jaws. Deep down, Catrin was relieved; feral dragons with the ability to wield Istra's power would be truly terrifying things.
Even without power, the beast hunting Catrin seemed made of fear. A single look from it caused Catrin to tremble, and its every movement forced Catrin to envision her own death. None could stand before such a dark and menacing visage and not quail. Catrin did the only thing she could think of, foolish or not: she ran.
The dragon moved in slow pursuit, seemingly unworried by Catrin's sudden flight. What looked like a tree branch swung out into the air before her, but it was no branch, and it moved to intercept her neck.
The pole arm cut the air with a sound that promised death. Only narrowly avoiding the strike, Catrin ducked low and let her momentum carry her forward, which proved to be a mistake. She'd have had a better chance facing the dragon. At least a dozen demons were clawing their way toward her, and behind them came the giants. Each one was a walking exaggeration; everything frightening about the demons only made larger. And now Catrin was tumbling into their midst. Without much thought, she compressed the air around her and released it all at once. The blast sent demons tumbling, and even the giants took a step back. The smell of ozone assaulted Catrin's nostrils, and a quickly evaporating mist hung in the air around her. The air was cool and moist, and for some reason, that meant something to Catrin, though she didn't know exactly what.
Lumbering past their fallen and disorganized comrades, the giants continued forward, single file, unable to move two abreast in the narrow valley. Taking two steps back, Catrin turned and froze. The feral dragon rose up to its full height. Even if it was a small feral dragon, it still managed to be terrifying, and Catrin considered trying her luck against the giants. When they saw the dragon, the hulking brutes stopped, seemingly ready to assault her if she tried to pass but nothing more.
Cocking its head to the side, the dragon approached, low to the ground, its head now level and weaving in a hypnotic motion. It took one more step forward then stopped, looking up. A moment later, it was backing up the ravine as quickly as it could before turning and launching back into the sky. Catrin did not want to raise her head to see, but instinct made her look, and she nearly fell down in fear. Staring back was the face of the largest feral she'd seen, one she recognized from when it chased the
Unleashing all the energy she could muster, Catrin sent fire and lightning at the feral's eyes. It arched back and released Kyrien from its deadly grasp, and Kyrien rolled away. Sensing movement behind her, Catrin lashed out at the giants, again going for the eyes. One managed to block the attack with a massive wrist guard, but another was struck full in the face and went down, leaving the third stuck behind its corpse.
Raising her arms for another attack, Catrin felt the air leave her lungs as Kyrien snatched her from the ground in his powerful claws.
Catrin could almost feel the tears in his words, and she wept for her friend and for the fact that she was somehow the cause of his anguish.
Moving through the darkened halls within Dragonhold, Halmsa of the Wind clan was determined to learn as much as he could from Catrin, even if he could not learn it in person. Nothing in the prophecies ever said that she had to be there to teach them how to fly dragons. It seemed strange that something that had seemed so far away when he was a child was now here before him. There had always been a silent disbelief in the back of his mind that the things foretold would come to be, and now he was humbled. He had ridden a dragon, and now he was ready to try flying one.
Feeling like a thief within the hold, Halmsa searched for a room that he knew existed, yet he had few clues to its whereabouts. He knew that holes in its walls faced open air and that it must be along the outer walls of the keep, but still it eluded him.
A deep growl sounded nearby, and even its echo challenged Halmsa's courage. He reminded himself that brave men felt fear, but they did not let it make their decisions. Keeping to the shadows, he waited until the demon passed, this one sniffing the air as it went. Halmsa moved back toward the God's Eye, a thing he would not believe
