He flew back over the wall to grab more of the wounded and deposit them where they could get care. On his fifth trip over, he spotted Max and knew he was in trouble. He had somehow gotten trapped, his back to the wall, and while he was still fighting, it was easy to see that he was tiring. Blake soared in, his fire destroying some of the Orcs trying to kill Max and then they stood there, together, two mighty dragons, fighting hard against their ancient enemy.
When they were fairly clear, Max shouted, “Where’s Heather?”
“I don’t know!”
Max swore and lifted off. Magic crackled and burned, and Blake ducked then went right as a fleeing Orc leaped toward him, and the magic caught it, frying its bones and skins to a crisp.
He was in the thick of it now, battling to not just hold back the seemingly never-ending tide of the Orcs, but to keep the ones already on the plateau that the castle sat upon from being able to breach the walls and enter the castle.
The lightning zigged and zagged, singing the ground. The odor was horrific. He was tiring, and he knew it, but he had to keep going. The sun faded away and night came in, and still, they fought. The humans were exhausted, and he was too. He and Max were fighting together, but they were practically holding each other up. Marlene had run out of strength an hour before and while fresh power was being thrown, it was a younger and weaker power, and it was barely enough to hold back the tide.
Christy was beside him. He saw her sweeping in, and then something so odd happened, he actually stopped fighting for a moment. She was breathing fire!
Heather stepped up beside Max and fire blew out of her hands. That’s when Blake realized that Christy had not breathed it but somehow created it. He managed to fight off a few Orcs that got close enough to kill with his fire and then his legs went weak.
He needed rest. He also needed to figure out just what the hell was making that fire that the two women were throwing at the Orcs.
Aura, so tired she was panting, dropped down beside them. “They retreated, but only for now. They’ve stopped climbing. Maybe the losses have caused them to need to regroup.”
Max groaned out, “They do retreat. Look.”
Blake nodded wearily. “They do. Let’s get back inside and prepare in case they have some kind of plan to breach the walls.”
Christy climbed up on his back, and he battled his way up to the top of the walls and then over. They landed in the courtyard, and he changed then staggered forward a few steps. Christy staggered along beside him, and he wrapped an arm around her neck. Her shoulder helped to steady his, and his steadied hers as they limped into the castle.
Food waited, and the wounded lined the walls. Blake managed to get them both on a bench and then he took her face into his hands. A bit of plaster and poultice was on her forehead, and he asked, “Are you all right?”
“I got hit with a rock. Irony I guess. In fact, I am pretty sure the bastard that I threw it was one of the ones I threw rocks at the day you found me.”
He found he could still smile. “Ouch.”
Marlene said, “Here, eat.”
She put bowls into their hands, and he looked into it. “What the hell is this?”
“Pesto. It’s good. I see she put meat in it that time.”
Blake ate a bite and shrugged. “Not bad. Could use something though. Hey, how did you do it? That fire thing?”
She grinned at him. “You’ll remember that when I came back, I had a purse with me? It was full of stuff from my world. Like, you know, the basics. Coffee, for one. Hair products for another. We just made flames by lighting some of my hair products on fire.”
He roared laughing and this hand dropped to her knee. “That’s resourceful.” It also gave him an idea. Fire was the best defense against the Orcs. They had used it too, back in the olden days. They had lit pitch on fire and poured it over the walls. They did not like to do it because it killed all the flora and was dangerous to livestock and wild animals alike.
But still, fire was their best defense.
Christy leaned against him and yawned widely. “Do you think they are up to something?”
“The Orcs? Absolutely.” He yawned too. “We need rest before they put whatever it is into motion too.”
She asked, “Do we have time to rest?”
“I doubt it.” He watched her lean down to survey his leg where the Orc had gashed him.
She said, “Oh it’s just a scratch.” It had not been just a scratch, but he decided not to tell her that.
She nestled closer, and he let his head fall back. His eyes were heavy and his body tired. The food helped, as did the strong tea that was pressed into his hand. He could smell coffee, and he asked, a little sleepily, “Are you using up your supply?”
“I can get more.”
He didn’t answer that because a huge yawn cracked his face and his hand gripped her more tightly, but he tumbled into sleep anyway.
