Mist erupted from him like a storm, silver coils lashing through the air. They wrapped around the creature’s throat, its wings, dragging it down even as it fought to break free.
“Hold on,” Varyth commanded, and I pressed myself closer to his chest as Thessarian tucked her wings close to her body.
We dove.
The world became a blur of speed and violence as Thessarian plummeted toward the shadow dragon, her claws extended like golden daggers. The impact when we struck was devastating,scales and blood and the sound of bones breaking beneath the force of our attack.
The shadow beast shrieked, its own claws raking across Thessarian’s flank, drawing lines of crimson. But Varyth’s mist was already moving, constricting around the creature’s throat until its cries became strangled gasps.
For a moment, I thought we had won.
Another shadow dragon, larger than the first, its scales so black they seemed to devour light itself. But as it dove toward us, wings spread like the promise of death, something else exploded from the opposite direction.
This dragon was different. Smaller than the shadow beast but faster, its scales a deep forest green that caught the light like emeralds. It struck the Nyxarian creature, silver claws finding the soft spots between armoured scales.
The shadow dragon’s death cry echoed across the sky as it tumbled toward the earth, its attacker banking sharply away before I could get a clear look at its rider.
“What the hells—” I started.
“Later,” Varyth cut me off, one arm wrapped around me as he guided Thessarian toward where Caorath was making his unsteady descent. “We need to reach Darian.”
The crimson dragon hit the ground hard, his legs buckling as he tried to control the landing. I watched in horror as he skidded across the rocky terrain, Darian’s limp form strapped to his back.
Thessarian touched down nearby, and I was sliding from her back before she’d fully settled. My legs shook as my feet hit solid ground, fury and terror and the lingering effects of that wild flight combining to turn my muscles to water.
But I forced myself to run.
Darian lay crumpled against Caorath’s neck, the obsidian spear protruding from his side.
“Darian.” I dropped to my knees beside him, my hands hovering over the wound as I tried to assess the damage. “Can you hear me?”
His eyes fluttered open, unfocused but aware. “Did we win?”
“We’re alive,” I said, which wasn’t quite the same thing. “That’s going to have to be enough.”
Varyth knelt on Darian’s other side, his eyes fixed on the wound. “The spear missed his heart, but we need to stop the bleeding.”
“Can you heal him?” The question came out more desperate than I intended.
“I can stabilise him. But he needs a proper healer, and soon.” Varyth’s hands began to glow with silver light as he worked. “The question is whether we can get him back to Edrithas before?—”
A shadow passed overhead.
We all froze, looking up to see the green dragon circling above us.
“What the hell is that?” I demanded, tight with exhaustion and panic.
“A complication.”
The green dragon swerved, riderless but moving with deadly purpose. Even without someone guiding it, I could see the way it moved. Fluid, predatory, like it was weighing whether we were worth the effort to kill.
“Helpful as always,” I snarled, pressing my hands against Darian’s wound as another gush of blood seeped around the obsidian spear. His skin had gone the colour of old parchment, and his breathing was getting shallower by the second.
Varyth’s hands continued to glow with silver light as he worked, but I could see the truth. Whatever healing he was managing wasn’t enough, not with that much blood loss, not with that spear buried in Darian’s torso.
“We need to move,” Varyth said, the words clipped with urgency. “Now.”
“He’s barely conscious,” I protested. “Moving him could?—”
