Page 140 of Realm of Wind and Vines
Afireball slams into the arrow, incinerating it one single second before it can pierce Draven’s neck. But he doesn’t even have time to look in Alistair’s direction, because another hail of arrows shoots towards us.
I leap back as arrows speed through the air from all sides. Storm winds howl through the trees as Draven summons his magic to sweep them aside while Isera yanks up an ice shield in front of Orion right before an arrow can hit him in the eye.
Panic clangs through me as I yank out my dagger and whip my head from side to side, trying to locate our attackers. My shoulder still screams in pain, and exhaustion rolls through my entire body.
Battle cries echo between the trees.
Then a horde of dragon shifters sprint out from between the trees, swords and bows raised. The leader goes straight for Draven.
When I see her, my mind just… stops.
Diana Artemisia, leader of the Purple Dragon Clan, swings a sword straight at Draven’s chest while half of her soldiers firearrows at us from between the trees and the rest charge forward with blades as well.
Diana who is supposed to be our ally. Diana who is supposed to be all the way back in her homeland right now where she is supposed to be creating the distraction that made the Icehearts fly away from Frostfell.
How did she make it here so quickly? And why the hell is she attackingus?
Steel flashes in the corner of my eye.
Throwing myself to the side, I barely manage to evade the sword aimed for my head. Arrows continue pelting us from all sides. Ice, fire, storm winds, and tree magic flash around me as my friends work to block the ranged attacks while at the same time trying to fend off the people with swords while also trying to figure out what the hell is going on.
I yank up my dagger to block another sword strike while twisting myself out of reach of a third one. My heart leaps into my throat as more arrows cut through the air. They hit a shield of ice with wooden snapping sounds as Isera yanks up a wall on my left before they can reach me.
“Diana!” Draven bellows while parrying her strikes with his sword. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m sorry,” she says, but she doesn’t stop. Her sword flashes through the air as she attacks Draven relentlessly. “I don’t have a choice.”
Draven, who looks to be holding back since he doesn’t want to kill someone who is supposed to be our ally, stares at her in shock and confusion while yanking up his blade to block her strike and sending wind magic crashing through the trees to knock the arrows away at the same time.
Understanding hits me like a punch to the gut.
While ducking another sword, I leap back and twist out of the way of another arrow. My head spins and there is a panickedringing inside my skull. I don’t want to be right about this. If I am, we might have just lost the war without even knowing how.
“Lavendera!” I scream. “Cancel all orders.”
She doesn’t reply.
Whipping my head towards her, I find her still kneeling on the ground, staring at the scene around her with wide eyes. The Dryad Queen is back on her feet, defending Lavendera with vicious fury.
“Lavendera!” I yell again while yanking up my blade to block another sword. Metal clashes against metal. “All the orders you have issued through dragon steel, all the orders that are floating around there in the back of your mind, cancel them!”
Her eyes snap back into focus. Giving her head a hard shake, she leaps back up to her feet and closes her eyes as she no doubt focuses on canceling all her previous orders.
Vines shoot up in front of her as the Dryad Queen protects her from a massive hail of arrows.
“STOP!” Diana screams.
The soldier who was about to slam his sword into my neck freezes mid-swing.
I whirl towards Diana right as she grabs the piece of dragon scale on her armor that protects her forearm. Her green eyes are filled with fury as she yanks off that piece of armor and drops it on the ground. She is still holding her sword, but she pulls out a short knife from her belt as well. I tense up.
Two steps in front of her, Draven flexes his grip on his own sword but makes no move to attack her.
With a scream, she rams the knife down into her forearm and slices a deep cut. Blood wells up from the wound, but she just shoves her knife back in its sheath and digs her fingers into her arm. Then a hiss rips from her lips, and she yanks her hand back.
“Get it out!” she yells, desperation lacing her voice, as she flicks wild eyes between me and Isera. “Get it out!”
I lurch into motion, but Isera is closer. Taking three long stepsacross the now flattened grass, she grabs Diana by the wrist and reaches into the wound with her other hand. Gritting her teeth, she pulls.
