Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Caindra screeches and banks right, avoiding a bolt as it sails past us.
I was so distracted by the entire devastating scene, I didn’t notice the ballistae set up within the trees below. They knew we would come, and they’re waiting for us.
“Romeria! Shield!” Jarek yells as another bolt flies.
I manage to throw one up at the last moment, sending the arrow ricocheting dangerously close to Valk.
“Spread out!” Zander roars.
“I can’t shield everyone when we’re apart!” My words are lost as the dragons separate.
Below, the enemy is scrambling to reload and aim. Several more of these projectiles sail toward the dragons, one nearly catching Valk’s neck. We’re quickly losing our advantage.
My heartbeat is in my throat as I unleash all four affinities at the defense line below. A white light explodes as it hits, charring everything in its path—the enemies, their weapons, the trees—and leaving a deep gouge in the earth.
Caindra picks up where my path of destruction ends, dragon’s fire bursting from her giant maw like a flamethrower.
Valk and Xiaric attack with fire from other angles, aided by Zander and the Shadows.
Saur’goths scream as they die.
But when we climb back out of reach to regroup, it’s clear that as destructive as our efforts are, haphazard attacks won’t be nearly enough to stop this. More defense lines wait, more bolts are aimed. Eventually, one of them will meet their target.
There are just too many. It’s an endless army, built by a god.
I meet Zander’s gaze. His dour expression tells me he has come to the same grim conclusion: that we are here to gain information, not to die. He points east, and I nod.
Staying out of range of the weapons below, we travel toward Cirilea, searching for the end of the horde.
I could be wrong—I don’t know Islor all that well, but … they don’t seem to be moving toward the capital city at all.
The line curves north.
I think toward Lyndel and the rift.
I search for Zander in the sky to see if I’m misreading this.
The hard look on his face tells me I haven’t.
With a shout and a gesture, Valk dives and the other dragons follow.
We aim for the bridge.
52
Zander
The mood in the command tent is morose as everyone listens to Romeria and I recount what approaches us.
“We’ve destroyed the Bellcross Bridge.” The only clear passage across the river. It was as old as the city itself, existing for thousands of years, long before the rift split our lands in two and Islor became a realm. A grand testament to the history and alliance between Cirilea and Bellcross.
I made the decision in half a second, and Romeria shattered it in three. What remained, the dragons destroyed with their fire and their claws after dropping us off safely on the other side.
“That will slow them down, but it will not stop them.” Though the river is wide, the waters are shallow and calm.
“How many?” Theon’s voice is gruff. Telling him Bellcross was all but lost may have been the hardest news I’ve ever had to deliver.
“I could not even hazard a guess, but I have never seen anything like it. Not Queen Neilina’s force that waited to invade us, not the battle we fought a hundred years ago. It was …” My voice fades.
“Too many for three dragons and a key caster,” Jarek finishes, his words solemn.
“Maybe if I brought Shadows who could shield each of the dragons,” Romeria suggests, her red-tinged eyes betraying her weariness from exerting so much of her power. “Maybe then we could do some real damage.”
“There were at least a hundred ballistae waiting for us,” Solange counters. “Something would get through sooner rather than later.”
“And you would burn out of your affinities long before they stopped launching.” I shake my head. “You are powerful, yes.” The swath of damage she inflicted with that one blast was as awe-inspiring as it was devastating. “But you cannot win this war for us.”
Theon leans against the table as if he needs support. “Then who can?”
I bite my tongue against the urge to give an honest answer. No one.
“This Saur’goth army was not designed to conquer. Malachi brought it here to destroy, and from what we saw of the lands that stretch south from the mouth of Venhorn, it is effective in its task.”
“How long do we have?” Lord Telor asks, his voice equally grim.
“If I had to guess, their front line will reach us in three days, even without the bridge.”
Anxious glances pass around the room.
“What are your orders, Your Highness? While my city burns and my people die, what shall we do here?” There’s a hint of animosity in Theon’s tone.
Abarrane opens her mouth to scold him, but I wave her off. Let him have his anger and if I need to be its target, so be it. When I first read the letter from Kier, he called for his horse, ready to lead his men back to Bellcross. I ordered him to stand down until I returned with confirmation, and he wasn’t pleased with me for it. He even argued—a rare occurrence.