But Soren didn’t need further clarification as she heard a shrill cry in the distance. Thessa took to the air, and Soren gasped as she saw the forces approaching the camp. There were more than enough to overtake everyone here, as well as five wyverns now circling the camp.
Soren stiffened as they noticed her, their riders shouting and pointing as Thessa dove to avoid a volley of arrows from the ground.
You have weapons. Use them.
Soren looked at the small dagger in her hand.I don’t think this will do much.
Notthatone.
A well of darkness called on her, coaxing her closer. Death sensed the closeness of so many lives in peril, and his call was a siren’s song. Soren felt the ichor of the magic trying to leak from her fingertips, and she almost let go before she saw the face of the rider ahead.
Oh gods.
Kelshie.
Her long-lost sister cried out to her companions, but over the wind and the chaos of the battle ensuing down below, Soren could not hear what she said.
“Kelshie!” Soren screamed. “Kelshie, it’s me!”
Her sister whipped her head towards her, but there was no softness or mercy on her face, only resolve.
“Traitor!” Kelshie called out shrilly, her wyvern circling Thessa.
Archers from atop two of the other wyverns let loose a wave of arrows. Soren’s gaze snagged on one of them, his face familiar. It took her a moment, but she realized who he was as he cried out to one of his companions.
It was Lanor, the knight who had been so kind to her when they had journeyed to the temple. Now, she knew why. He was a Misean sympathizer?—
Soren screamed as one of his arrows tore through her arm, and Thessa all but shouted,Focus, Soren!
But she couldn’t, not with everything Vane had just told her and Kelshie staring at her with hate. She was done. There wasn’t a point anymore, there couldn’t be. She had thought her hope had died long ago, but now she knew: today was the day it would truly fade into nothing.
Soren!
She ignored Thessa and closed her eyes. Blood ran down her arm to her fingertips as she waited for the final strike. But then, a shadow passed over her, and the blow never came.
Opening her eyes, she gasped softly as she saw the enormous, black-scaled dragon above her. Kelshie’s companions were waving frantically to her, all of them shouting as they were dwarfed by the second Vemon dragon, the shadow to Thessa’s moon.
It could only be one rider.
Mòr Maslach.
The rebel riders scrambled into some formation, and Soren ripped the arrow from her arm, screaming between her teeth. She had to try and save Kelshie. The masked rider above would likely kill her for it, but at least she would die saving her sister.
Thessa. Go after him.
Beneath her, Thessa rumbled, her scales vibrating.You do not know what you’re doing.
I’m saving my sister.
The dragon didn’t argue further, soaring up into the air as the masked rider and his dragon dove for one of the wyverns. As they shot past Soren and Thessa, she got a better look at the mask. It was made of some dark, almost obsidian-like material. The shape was hard to decipher, the material molded to the rider’s face in jagged pieces.
She didn’t have time to think further on it, though, because the screech of a wyvern split through the air as the masked rider’s dragon tore through its neck below her.
Dive, Thessa.
She didn’t argue further, angling down as the other wyverns circled the masked rider. Flames shot through the air all around Soren, but Thessa kept a straight course, her mouth opening, revealing her dagger-like teeth as she pummeled towards the black Vemon dragon.
Then, in slow motion, everything changed.
