Page 118 of Swift Wings Shadowed Heart
He looks down, frowning. “It’s not bad.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, just get my health pack, and I’ll be back on Jordrax in no time.”
Just as he says this, his dragon lands, concern etched on his massive face. I approach him.
“Jordrax, I need Caspian’s health pack,” I say.
The brown dragon nods and bends his knee. I run up his side, reach the saddlebag, quickly retrieve what I need, and return to Caspian. When I get there, he’s already opened his jacket to inspect the wound. It’s not as bad as I thought.
“Here.” I set the pack down. We’re trained to tend to our own wounds. He’ll be all right.
“Go! I’ll join in five.” He’s already pulling out a binding to wrap his stomach.
Something thuds a few feet away. We both startle, heads snapping in the direction of the sound. A harpy, wings singed and smoking, has crashed to the ground. My heartbeats mark several seconds as Caspian and I stare, unblinking. It doesn’t move.
“Is it dead?” Caspian whispers.
“Stay here. I’ll check.”
I reach into my boot, pulling out my dagger. It’s a small blade, but sharp, honed for close combat. Taking a deep breath, I approach the fallen harpy. Her eyes, glazed and vacant, stare up at the sky. Yet, one of her hands twitches. I hesitate, then plunge the dagger into her heart. The creature lets out a final, guttural gurgle, then stills.
As I withdraw the dagger, I can’t help but stare at the harpy. Up close, I learn the creatures are even more grotesque than I’d imagined. Their yellow-green skin is covered in a viscous fluid, sickly and foul-smelling. Their feathers are oily and matted, also reeking of decay. And their claws… they’re longer than my hand, curved and razor-sharp. I shudder, a wave of nausea washing over me. These harpies aren’t just monsters. They’re… something else. I don’t know what, but they make my soul cringe.
I turn away, the sight of the monster seared into my memory. Caspian watches me, face pale. I force a smile. “It’s dead,” I say, voice trembling slightly. “You’re safe.”
But as I glance back up, I know there’s no safety. The battle is far from over. Nodding, I leap back onto Zephyros, a renewed determination burning in my chest.Damn Screechclaws. They’ll pay for this!
I rejoin the fray, soaring back into the chaos. The air is thick with the stench of burnt flesh, ozone, and fear. Dragons and harpies zoom through the air in a cacophony of roars, screeches, and the crackle of lightning. I spot Vaylen, his face grim as he directs the battle, and Omari, her lightning strikes illuminating the sky. And then, I see Silas.
He’s locked in a desperate struggle with a harpy, her long sword raking at Agnisar’s hide. Silas’s features are contorted in fury as he runs along his dragon’s spine, shooting Fire Balls. The control over his Tethers is amazing. One of his attacks passes an inch from the harpy’s face. The monster pushes away from Agnisar and shrieks tauntingly. I peer at Agnisar for signs of injury, but he seems fine. It’d take more than a few sword blows to cut through a dragon’s hide.
Silas releases Fire Blast, a steady stream of fire. His opponent easily avoids the volley, seeming to mock him. Another harpy appears behind him, aiming for his unprotected back. My blood runs cold.
With a battle cry, I guide Zephyros in his direction. I unleash a Wind Blast, a focused gust that strikes the harpy from the side. The creature shrieks and, wings twisting at odd angles, tumbles from the sky. I pull Zephyros up, circling back to Silas just as he delivers a huge Fire Blast straight at the other harpy, turning her to nothing but ashes.
That was excessive. He needs to save his energy for… for the large group coming at us!
“Behind you!” I scream, pushing my words toward him with Wind Blast.
He glances over his shoulder, and the sheer sight sends him to one knee.
“Fire! We need fire,” I shout as, reading my mind, Zephyros circles, gaining the right angle to attack.
For a moment, I fear Silas won’t rally, but he jumps to his feet, runs back to Agnisar’s head and gets in position.
We launch our attack. I channel my wind, focusing it into a swirling Vortex that wraps around a roar of flames from Agnisar’s maw. The fire intensifies, engulfing the wave of harpies. Most drop to the ground, until only a few remain.
The horde, though thinned, still swarms like a hive of angry bees, the individual creatures proving harder to target as they dive toward us with outstretched talons. Silas and I use Wind Blast and Fire Blast to drive them back, our attacks growing more precise with each enemy we manage to take down.
More harpies come, and though relentless, they’re starting to show signs of fatigue. Their screeches are less frenzied, their movements less coordinated. We press the advantage, Silas and I working in tandem. Yet, they still come. One by one, we pick them off, a frustratingly slow process. Each harpy slain is a victory, but the numbers seem endless.
The battle drags. It’s a relentless grind against a relentless enemy. The sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting long, eerie shadows across the peaks. The air is thick with smoke.
After what must be hours of fighting, Silas and I chase the last of our thinned-out enemies, and for the first time in a while, I have the opportunity to glance around. Everyone fights in isolation or groups of two. Dakar and Emberstone cut through the sky, riding the powerful Fire Blast their combined powers generate. The senior Skydune is with Caspian and the senior Skybolt has joined Omari—the veterans protecting the new members of their Clutches. But where is Vaylen?
I keep scanning the battlefield. The scene of utter devastation. The ground is littered with the bodies of fallen harpies, their grotesque forms twisted and broken. Patches of scorched earth mark the spots where flames raged, and the air still crackles with the residual energy of the Skybolt’s lightning. The once-pristine lake reflects the fiery sunset, its surface disturbed, rippling with the strong gusts from dragon wings.
