Page 117 of Swift Wings Shadowed Heart
And she’s coming for us.
My body trembles. We’re not ready for this.
As we fly to meet them, the harpy matron lets out a screech that shatters the air, and the horde surges forward. A wave of panic washes over me. This is it. We’re going to die. I glance at Vaylen’s grim face and find that his blue eyes now hold a fierce determination. Then, he’s speeding forward, Fragor soaring towards the heart of the horde.
Beside him, Prime Emberstone, on her fiery dragon Ignis, follows. He roars and a torrent of flames erupts from his maw. Vaylen, in perfect synchronicity, unleashes Wind Blast, channeling it into Fire Storm. The flames ignite, twisting and dancing, a maelstrom that engulfs the leading harpies. They scream, their feathers ablaze, then dozens plummet from the sky like burning meteors. The air grows thick with the smell of singed feathers and burning flesh.
To my utter disbelief, the Matron remains untouched. She soars through the heart of the Fire Storm, her wings beating furiously. The sight chills my bones, but we’re not powerless. We can do this. We can fight back. We’ve trained to face them.
A surge of energy courses through me. I scan the chaos, my eyes locking onto Silas. We haven’t seen eye to eye lately, and there’s been a wall of unspoken resentment between us. But now, with the harpies swarming, there’s no room for anything but survival. I send a silent plea for unity. He hesitates for a heartbeat, then nods, a flicker of understanding passing between us.
I give him the hand signal for Fire Storm.
He spurs his dragon, Agnisar, forward. The scales at his throat glow with renewed heat. I guide Zephyros into a tight turn, positioning us beside him. Silas unleashes a torrent of fire along with his dragon, a blazing wave that washes over the harpies.
At the same time, I channel my wind, not to scatter the flames, but to amplify them. This is my first time doing this, we didn’t have a chance to practice combined attacks, but Zephyros guides me, sending quick instructions through our bond. I weave a powerful gust, focusing it into a tight, swirling vortex that wraps around the fire. Beneath me, Zephyros glows, same as my body. The flames explode, the wind feeding them, turning them into a raging inferno. The harpies caught in the blast shriek, their forms consumed by the enhanced fire, their charred bodies dropping to their rocky graves. The attack is effective, a testament to the power of our combined elements.
The air crackles with heat and the increased smell of burning feathers, but the Matron seems undeterred. She still urges her horde forward. She doesn’t seem worried in the least. Her strength is in her numbers, and she appears bent on destruction, a strange stance to make for a town they have already disseminated. What are they after?
The battle becomes a chaotic whirlwind of elemental powers. Omari, perched atop Fulminar, unleashes bolts of lightning, each strike sending arcs of crackling energy through the harpy ranks. The air fills with the sharp ozone scent of her power. The harpies convulse, falling as the electricity courses through their gaunt figures.
A tier below, I spot Jordrax and his rider Caspian Stonefist. They speed close to the ridge, harpies hot on their trail.
Goddess, they’re not going to make it!
A surge of panic hits me, but then Caspian whirls to face his dragon’s tail, Tethers adjusting masterfully. As expertly as a seasoned Skyrider, he sends a wave of earth power toward the rocky slope, dislodging large boulders and sending volley after volley hurtling into the swarming harpies. Rocks smash into the dense formation, scattering the creatures and sending them tumbling. Yet, for every harpy that falls, two more seem to take their place. The sheer number is overwhelming. They press closer to Caspian, their screeches growing louder, more insistent. Their talons glint like razors, reaching, ready to tear. One harpy, her eyes burning with rabid hunger, dives towards Caspian, a sword in her grip.
My heart leaps into my throat. Caspian, focused on hurling rocks at the advancing harpies, doesn’t see the one diving towards him. The harpy screeches, flips, and extends her talons, aimed for the Skydune. Jordrax roars and banks in the opposite direction, but the harpy flies fast, a projectile. It’s going to reach them.
—Caspian, he needs us!I say.
Zephyros reads my thoughts in a flash and with my knowledge of Caspian’s position veers downward, headed directly for him.
—Wind Spear, Rhealyn, Zephyros instructs.
—I can’t. Wind Blast will work.
—No! You’ll unmount the human and send him flying against the rocks.
Zephyros might be right. But I can’t.
—Wind Spear will fail me again,I say.He’ll be as good as dead.
—No, he won’t. You can do it.
I disregard his instructions and release Wind Blast, carefully aiming it at the harpy. The attack catches the creature’s wings from the back. She shrieks, her momentum broken, and goes tumbling head over talons. I think I’ve succeeded, but she crashes into Caspian with enough force to break his Tethers. The harpy spins out of control toward the side of the mountain, crashing to her death, while Caspian plummets to the ground, his body a dark, limp shape, while Jordrax, unbalanced, struggles to avoid a collision with the jagged peak.
“Caspian!” I cry, fear clawing at my throat.
I don’t hesitate. I yank on Zephyros’s Tethers, steering him into a steep dive. The wind screams in my ears as we plummet towards the earth. I spot Caspian falling, eyes closed, unconscious. Just as he’s about to hit the ground, we reach him. With a precision I didn’t know he possessed, Zephyros angles himself beneath Caspian, positioning one massive wing under my mate and catching him in its broad expanse. With a controlled descent, we land gently on the rocky terrain.
Zephyros carefully tilts his wing, allowing Caspian to slide off and onto the ground. I leap down, heart pounding. Caspian lies still, his face pale. I kneel beside him, gently cradling his head in my arms.
“Caspian? Caspian, can you hear me?” I whisper, my voice trembling. He’s a good man who carved his path in the Academy through arduous work, accompanied by quiet determination.
His eyes flutter open, and he blinks, gaze unfocused. “Rhea?” he murmurs, voice weak. He has a bleeding gash on his side. The harpy must have sunk her claws into him.Damn beast!
“You’re hurt,” I say.
