Alliance (10 page)

“Fimor….”

“I know. Vashek says all but three of the patrols are back behind the wall. But Nysad and the other two remaining patrols have a long way to go yet. We need to keep the witch occupied for long enough to tire her out.”

“How long will that take?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, but magic like this takes a lot of energy.”

Nykin sucked in a breath as another bolt of magic flew past them, no doubt aimed for Vashek.
“Gods willing she starts to tire soon.”

“Agreed.”

Nykin gave up on holding on to the harness and wrapped his arms tightly around Fimor’s neck. He felt the muscles bunch and release as Fimor maneuvered to evade the witch’s spells. They were getting closer, red flashes flying all around as she relentlessly threw her magic at them. Nykin had no idea what the spells would do if they hit, and he hoped he never found out.

Fire shot through the sky to their left, followed by an almighty roar up ahead that made Nykin’s heart stop for just a moment.
“Did she hit them?”

“Yes, but just a shallow cut along Vashek’s back. He’s more angry than hurt. They’re up ahead, and have the villagers in sight. They are out of the worst of the wind. Eldin says to hurry up and follow them.”

Nykin relaxed a little in relief, forgetting for a moment that the wind still pressed in on them from all sides until Fimor hissed under his breath when he tried to climb higher.

“I can’t fly back, Nykin. The wind is too strong now.”

“What do we do?”
Nykin sounded frantic in his own head, unable to rein it in because the witch was still firing spells at them, and sooner or later one of them was bound to hit.

“Do you trust me, Nykin?”

“Always,”
Nykin answered without hesitation.

“Then hang on.”

Fimor spun them around and headed straight for the Athisi border, as fast as Nykin had ever felt him fly. His first thought was that Fimor had gone mad, because now they were well within the witch’s range, but he trusted his dragon completely. Nykin tucked his head down and closed his eyes, praying that Fimor knew what he was doing.

The change was subtle at first, and Nykin almost missed it, but the wind began to die off. They were no longer fighting against it, and Fimor immediately started to climb—steeper than they’d usually attempt, but they were uncomfortably close to the border, and Nykin was all for getting higher up in the sky as quickly as physically possibly.

“Almost there, Nykin. Just a little farther.”

Nykin tightened his grip, his arms aching with the effort. The thigh straps helped, but they were climbing at such an acute angle now that Nykin needed all his strength to keep his body in place. He held his breath, willing Fimor to reach a safe height and start to level out, because the sudden change in air pressure was making him feel a little light-headed.

Just as Fimor started to slow down, a surge of panic came through the bond, jarring into Nykin and taking his breath away with the force of it.

“What’s wr
—
”

The words died on his tongue as white-hot pain ripped through his right thigh. He cried out, instinctively pressing his hand to his leg, and lost his grip on Fimor’s neck. Blood seeped through his fingers from the wound, and Nykin belatedly realized the strap on his thigh had been torn in half. He started to slip.

“Nykin!”

Fimor immediately leveled out, trying to stop Nykin from falling backward, and Nykin struggled to get back into the saddle. His hands were slippery from the blood, making it hard to get a good grip on anything, and pain flared through his leg with the slightest movement. But Nykin gritted his teeth, and finally with a grunt and a hiss of pain, he managed to swing his leg back over the saddle and then collapsed against Fimor’s neck.

He was vaguely aware they were flying slower now, and not diving all over the place to avoid the witch’s spells. “
Are we safe now?”

“Yes, Nykin, I believe so. She’s stopped casting, and her magic now feels weak. We should be well behind the palace walls before she recovers.”
Fimor spared him a glance before facing forward again.
“How is your leg? I don’t sense any residual magic in the wound but
—
”

“Are Eldin and Vashek safe?”

“Yes, they’re up ahead, shadowing Nysad and the others. I thought we were safe. I’m so s
—
”

“It’s not your fault. My leg hurts, and it’s bleeding badly, but none of this is your fault.”
Nykin put extra emphasis on the words, willing Fimor to feel how true they were. They’d managed to evade all her spells up until then. It was a miracle they hadn’t been hit before. Now they weren’t flying at such a sharp angle, Nykin reached back and put pressure on his leg again, swallowing down a sob at the pain.
“We’re alive, Fimor. I consider that the most important thing.”

Fimor stayed silent, but Nykin couldn’t sense any guilt coming from him, so he didn’t press the matter further. With one arm slung around Fimor’s neck, and the other pressed to his wound, Nykin rested his head against Fimor’s scales again. He didn’t feel light-headed any longer—a good sign that he wasn’t losing too much blood. Maybe the wound wasn’t as bad as it felt.

“Nykin, don’t go to sleep. You need to stay awake until we can get that leg looked at.”

“I’m not asleep,”
Nykin mumbled, even as his eyelids began to feel heavy.
“Just resting.”

“Resting is fine, but sleeping is not.”

Nykin dozed on and off as they flew, prodded awake by Fimor each time his eyes slipped closed.

“Nykin? Nykin!”

Nykin startled, his eyes snapped open, and he winced at the slight pull on his leg as he jolted.
“What?”

“We’re almost back at the Eyrie. Hold on while I prepare to land.”

“The Eyrie? But what about Nysad and the villagers? We’re supposed to—”

“Your leg needs attention, Nykin. One of the other riders has already taken our place. Don’t worry. The villagers are well protected.”

Nykin still felt as though he was letting them down, but he couldn’t ignore the pain in his leg.
“And the witch?”

“There has been nothing more from her. And for now Seran’s army hasn’t moved, either. Nysad will make it back safely, Nykin.”

Fimor slowed them down, holding his wings out wide and steady, as they glided through the open mouth of one of the caves. The landing itself was as gentle as a dragon could make it, but it still jarred Nykin’s leg, and he bit back a cry.

Fimor no doubt heard it anyway, because the next moment warmth flooded through the bond, enveloping Nykin and dulling the pain.
“Nykin… Nykin!”

Nykin let his eyes fall shut this time, Fimor’s voice a dull echo in his head as he stayed slumped against Fimor’s neck and made no attempt to get off. His leg throbbed, and he just didn’t think he could manage it on his own.

R
YNEQ
RACED
up the Eyrie steps, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. He’d been in the war room with Glaevahl when one of the riders rushed in with the news of the witch’s attack.

He’d had a bad feeling all night and thought it due to the fact he wasn’t out there with his men, but he should have realized it was all going too smoothly.

The villagers began arriving in the castle in the early hours of the morning, a constant stream of people safely behind the enchanted walls, and Ryneq had slowly started to relax. There’d only been two patrols still out there when reports came of the attack. They’d been sketchy at first, a couple of the riders had seen red flashes in the sky, but there’d been no word from either Nykin or Eldin. Ryneq had known; though he couldn’t explain how, he’d just felt it.

Jaken had rushed into the room, and one look at his face had confirmed Ryneq’s worst fears.

“Sire….” Jaken had paused to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. He’d looked as though he’d run all the way from the Eyrie, and Ryneq braced himself. No good news needed to be delivered that fast. “The witch attacked as they were riding back… Nykin and Eldin….”

“How bad?”

“I don’t know exactly, but Nykin’s injured. Fimor’s bringing him back now.”

Ryneq hadn’t hesitated. He’d ordered Jaken to find Djilak, then left the room at a run, not caring about anything but getting up to the landing caves, and Nykin. His foot slipped on the smooth stone of the passageways, and he grabbed on to the wall for support as he regained his footing, cursing loudly. It took Ryneq far longer than he wanted to reach the Eyrie steps, and once he climbed to the top, he was forced to stop and catch his breath, drawing it in great lungfuls of air, attempting to calm his racing heart. The entrance to the Eyrie was empty, all the other riders either just coming in from escorting the villagers or still out patrolling.

“Dragon’s fire!” He slammed his hand against the wall, hardly noticing the pain in his frustration. The landing caves were numerous and he had no idea which one Nykin would be in. He heard footsteps and the faint murmur of voices behind him. When he turned and looked back down the steps, Jaken stood at the bottom.

“Your Majesty?” Jaken said, rushing up the steps.

He moved to one side and gestured for Ryneq to follow. “This way. They’ve just landed.”

“Where’s Djilak?” Ryneq asked as he hurried after Jaken into the tunnels.

“He’s gone to find one of the elves. The witch’s spells hit Nykin on the leg, and he’s worried there may be magical damage.” He glanced back over his shoulder as he walked. “But Fimor said to tell you although it’s pretty cut up, it’s not life-threatening.”

Although not as reassuring as Jaken probably thought, it was something, and Ryneq resolutely pushed away the panic threatening to claw its way out. “And Eldin?”

“I believe Eldin is unharmed, but Vashek was hit. I don’t know the extent of the damage, though.” Jaken spoke quickly, looking back over his shoulder now and again as they wound their way upward. Ryneq was relieved to hear Eldin was safe, but the news about Vashek wasn’t good. Eldin was his lead rider, and Ryneq needed him in the air.

“We’re here.” Jaken paused at the cave entrance to let Ryneq go first.

Ryneq marched past him into the cave, but the scene before him stopped him in his tracks—
so much blood
.

“Nykin!” Ryneq shook himself out of his daze and rushed forward, with Jaken hot on his heels. Two other riders were frantically unbuckling the remaining strap that pinned Nykin to the saddle and trying to ease him off Fimor’s back. Ryneq had to stop himself from pushing them out of the way, his hands clenched at his sides as he watched them work. As soon as Nykin was free, he stepped forward and helped them lower Nykin to the ground.

Nykin moaned softly as they laid him down, his eyes fluttering open, and one hand barely lifting off the floor in an effort to point at his dragon. “Fimor’s… hurt.”

Ryneq immediately glanced at Fimor, his gaze raking over his huge body, looking for any damage. Fimor huffed loudly, and brought his tail around, showing Ryneq the long scorch mark running along the end of it. A deep rumble filled the cave as Fimor flicked his tail away, eyes fixed on Nykin. Ryneq got the message loud and clear, but Fimor still needed attending to.

“Jaken,” he said, already reaching forward to press his hand to the wound on Nykin’s thigh.

“I’ll see to Fimor, Sire.” Jaken didn’t wait for further instruction, stepping over to Fimor to get a closer look at his injury.

Nykin fell quiet again; his eyes were open, though, and focused on Ryneq’s.

“I thought I told you not to do this again.” Ryneq pressed down a little firmer, earning a grimace from Nykin. The blood flow had almost stopped, but Ryneq refused to take any chances. His hands were already covered.

“Sorry.” Nykin managed a small smile, his eyes looking a little more alert. “’S just a scratch.”

Fimor huffed again, and Ryneq agreed wholeheartedly. “It’s a little more serious than that.”

Nykin shrugged, frowning as he glanced down at his leg. But before Ryneq could comment further, Djilak stumbled through the door with Faelon and Avelor behind.

Djilak immediately rushed to Nykin’s other side and dropped to his knees beside him. He waited for Ryneq to remove his hand and began to examine the wound. Nykin’s eyes shut again as Djilak gave him something to drink to ease the pain.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Faelon asked, stepping closer, and for once Ryneq wasn’t bothered by his presence. In fact he was grateful they were there.

He pointed at the gash on Nykin’s leg. “I don’t know how magic works exactly. Is it…?”

A look of understanding crossed Faelon’s face. “May I?” He glanced down at Nykin and then back to Ryneq.