Page 83 of The Last Dragon
But something tugs on the strings of my heart, and I glance up at the sky.
Sarga’s gone.
I inhale sharply, a soft twitch traveling across my hand, and I swallow. I freeze. Listen. The clattering of horses’ hooves, the creaking wheels of the carriage, the wind rushing past me.
“Halt!” I yell, stopping the formation in its path. The lieutenants immediately raise their hands, signaling the othertwo squads to halt in their path, but they stopped the second I yelled.
I signal the squads to take their positions, and my arm twitches again—this time harder—like a small ray of lightning courses through it.
Shit.
To ease my rapidly beating heart, I take a deep breath. But before I can yell out any orders, the wind rushes, sending dust into our eyes. And all I hear is a faint, clicking noise, like flint and steel. I yell out orders to scatter, hoping my words will reach soldiers faster than dragonfire. But it doesn’t. The fire blazes above me, heat swirling around me as I drop to the ground as the shadow of the beast flies above us, burning others in its way.
Screams rip through the air—sharp, panicked, soaked in pain. My vision returns just in time to catch flames devouring the wagons ahead, wood splintering and cracking in the heat. A sudden, high-pitched screech scrapes across my nerves like metal on glass—Sarga. I unsling the crossbow and whip around, tracking her screech bouncing off the cliffs. My eyes dart across the chaos, but before I can spot her, another wave of fire surges overhead toward the front lines as it flies high.
It’s circling above me. I’m too close. I’ll burn if I don’t move.
I bellow, driving the others to move before the giant Redsnout breathes fire again. We have time. We still have time. I hurl myself to the side, attempting to create more distance between me and the dragon—bow still in hand. Glancing back, I catch sight of a large crag towering over us with claw marks etched deep into the stone. The dragon circles the crag, then lunges, planting its claws deep into the jagged stone as it crashes against the rock face. The hairs on my arms rise.
It’s a resting spot.
This doesn’t make any sense. This place is rocky, the ground uneven and littered with jagged stones and dust—not a place aRedsnout prefers. Why would it rest there? I rush forward into the wall of flames, heat roaring all around. I spot a lieutenant not far from me. I need to give orders. Restore the formation. Kill the beast. Survive. Bring everyone home.We have time. We have time. We have time.My heart pounds faster with every step. We have time. The ignition needs to cool down.
My unit, without a second thought, follows me, but the increasing raging fire on the way to the Lieutenant prevents me from going forward. I’m cornered by the fire in front and the crag behind me.
“Zel!” Nida yells, grabbing my arm. From the cliff towering at the edge of the field, a loud rumble echoes, followed by the sharp crack of rock splitting. Giant boulders tear free, smashing into the ground around us. One slams into my legs, another skims my side, pinning my bow beneath it, crushing it. I scramble free, heart hammering, and see Nida lying nearby. Her body is covered in blood. No.No.I grab her, pull her up, and check if she is alright. I whisper her name, and she responds with a grunt, her eyes slowly opening up.
What happened?
My eyes stray to the rocky cliff.
It’s not a resting spot.It’s a tool.
The beast…waitedfor us. It waited for us to get here.The dragon knew we were coming.
The beast slams its claws against the crag again, scraping deep into the rock to steady itself. A shower of stones and dust tumbles toward us like deadly hail. Arm hooked with Nida’s, I dart to the side as fast as I can, away from the stones crashing to the ground and take refuge behind larger boulders that have settled into a barricade. The dragon is vicious. Terrifying. Like it’s determined to kill us.
The formation is completely destroyed. The smell of blood, urine, and sweat fills the air.
“Form!” I yell to the remaining soldiers and wave my hand forward, away from the rock formation. For a second, there’s silence—but Lieutenant Wain’s voice echoes my command. I turn to find her, but the dust and smoke obscure everything.
Nida’s eyes flick to a loaded crossbow lying nearby. Without hesitation, she snatches it up and hurls it into my hands. I catch it, pivot on my heel, and lock in my aim. Heavy wings flap, sending dust up, obscuring my vision. Smaller stones strike my hand, knocking the bow out of my grasp, whilst a bigger one shatters it in two.
“Fuck!” I curse, listening to the wings as the beast flies upwards. The moment the flames die down in front of us, Ilian and Eryca rush over. Ilian raises his bow, frantically aiming it up in the air, changing direction each second.
“Where is it!?” he yells, the bow clattering in his shaky hands. “Where the hell is it!?”
I squint my eyes, trying to see through the smoke and dust covering the battlefield.
“There’s too much dust!” I yell out.
Eryca grunts. “I saw a more rocky, less dusty area right behind the crag. If we could get there—”
“No,” I interrupt. “A detour like that… There’s no formation.”
“What do we do?” Eryca asks.
I scan the field as I press against the boulder, eyes fixed on the soldiers ahead. Smoke and dust blur the formation, flames licking at wagons and scattered men. The dragon sweeps back and forth overhead, preparing to breathe fire again. Dozens of soldiers were crushed by the stones, and some are burning to death. Screams of agony ring throughout the field, along with the crackling sound of a blazing fire. Suddenly, the dragon swoops low as if to unleash its fire, a heavy beat of its wings tearing the smoke apart. In a swift crash, it lands behind our barricade. Its wings spread wide, shadow enough to swallow tenmen. I press myself closer to the stone. Eryca crouches. Ilian’s bolt whistles behind my ear, shooting straight past, missing the dragon.
