Page 77 of The Last Slayer
We were completely encircled, above, around and undoubtedly below, and I didn’t see how we could escape. Teleportation was out of question. Nahemah was the mistress of the Lunar Garden and had the power to block magical entry and departure from her dragonhold. A pair of Besade amphiteres hovered high in the sky over the wyverns of the Lunar Garden, but they couldn’t penetrate the hostiles’ formation.
Fantastic.
“Shield us.” Without waiting for my response, Ramiel drew in a breath and said, “Draco perditio.”
What I had done—what I had thought of as draco perditio—was nothing compared to what he unleashed. A pale green shockwave of power radiated out in a sphere, bending the air and light, shriveling and destroying any dragon unfortunate enough to be within range. I’d heard of radiant offensive spells before, but only in theory—no mortal has enough power to perform them. My draco perditio had been no exception. It had been directed at only one target—Apollyon’s wyrm. What Ramiel did was of a different order of magnitude.
The shield I’d put up barely held as the creatures fell screaming with a series of loud pops. They puckered and collapsed into desiccated softballs, their carcasses bouncing around and rolling. Some of the wyverns fled, managing to avoid death, but the slower ones lost trailing legs and tails and showered the ground with cold salty blood.
Nahemah paled under the crimson rivulets that ran down her face. Her right hand tightened around her sword. “Interfering mongrel! You’ll rue this day, I swear it!”
Ramiel stood like the demigod he was, magnificent, imperial, residual power still coming off him like a furnace. His lips twisted into a cruel smile. “You should’ve taken me more seriously, Oh Lady of the Pure Blood.”
Our amphiteres dropped swiftly through Nahemah’s stunned wyverns. I released our shield, and Ramiel and I hopped onto one each.
He saluted Nahemah, and as we rode into the night sky, a look of satisfaction was etched onto his face.
Fourteen
The cold wind enveloped us. I shivered and tightened my grip on my amphitere’s rein. Falling after our dramatic escape would be totally anticlimactic.
Once I felt stable, I looked back. Wyverns’ wings shimmered like waves of pearls below us. In an impressive show of bravery, they were giving chase despite Ramiel’s display of power earlier. Anything to please their mistress, I supposed.
“Can we outfly them?”
Ramiel glanced down at the flight of wyverns, which was slowly gaining on us. “Most likely not. But we shouldn’t engage them.” He looked at my still-bleeding rib. “Your wound wants healing, and your amphitere has never gone into battle before. She’s too young.”
“So…any clever plans? Maybe another draco perditio?”
> Our amphiteres squeaked and cried.
“Do you wish to fall?”
Oh yeah. “Can you target them individually?”
He shook his head. “There are too many.”
“Damn.” I was itching to incinerate a few wyverns myself, take my new heartstone for a test drive, so to speak, but it would have been foolish.
“Also we’re no longer within the Lunar Garden. I don’t want other dragonlords to pick up on another draco perditio.”
“They can do that?”
“Of course. It’s a forbidden spell. We can feel its effect like an earth tremor. So as a rule we only use it under extreme circumstances.”
I looked back at the cloud of wyverns that was following us. “This isn’t an extreme circumstance?”
“Don’t worry. I shall find a way.”
Usually I didn’t rely on others. So-called “teamwork” just created problems. But I could feel a sea-change starting within me. Ramiel had saved me more than once, revealed his secrets to me, guided me as I made my stumbling way through the world of supernaturals. Somehow I felt that he would take care of the situation. Take care of me.
I straightened my shoulders, made a conscious decision to trust him, and we flew on silence. Ramiel closed his eyes and let his amphitere navigate. Mine followed. Despite her supposed passivity, her muscles were tense. I guess she wasn’t used to flying with a bunch of pissed-off wyverns after her.
Ahead, the sun began to reveal itself. Morning gold spilt over a sky of purple and orange. We passed from the Lunar Garden’s sphere of influence. In Besade, Toshi would have breakfast waiting. And maybe some Sex for both of us, provided that was how dragonlords recharged. Of course, we could have simply done the deed. Ramiel was able to somehow gather Sex and use it.
More wyverns appeared ahead, one o’clock high, coming toward us. I blinked at the sight. At this rate, we were going to be caught in a wyvern stew.
Ramiel still had his eyes closed, his hair streaming out behind him. Maybe he thought he was surfing off Malibu or something. His amphitere continued toward the new group of wyverns. Surely it knew what was coming toward us, right? It wasn’t—god forbid—blind, was it?
