CHAPTER 22

Lis stood at the edge of the pool for several long moments, wrapped in a towel that covered her shoulders and then draped down to her calves, debating where she might actually go to find safety.

Her clothes were nothing but a ruined pile. She stepped around them and gathered her satchel, glancing up as though even that small movement would draw doom down upon her from above. Nothing happened, though, and silence had swallowed the night once more. Wherever Cillumn and Firestriker had gone, it wasn’t apparent from the bath house, nor was there any sound of battle to reach her ears. The water behind her lapped against the edge, a soothing sound of beauty, mocking the seriousness of her situation. She debated going back to the workshop; there were guards there, at least, but the last attack had proven the medical wing unsafe. Also, there was the revelation that the guards had been talking about...entertaining her. Yet she knew very little of the Aerie so far. The Archon's audience chamber would be even less suitable.

She grabbed her satchel and backed into the maze of walls that formed the western side of the bathing complex—small rooms that provided a privacy of sorts. To change she supposed, though it seemed a little silly, given that the pool was open and one would have to reveal their nakedness eventually. This, too, was an area created with white stone. Simple benches formed around the walls of the small spaces and more towels were piled neatly within. Maybe she could just stay there, it was as safe as any other place within the Aerie.

She frowned at the thought. Since when had she been content to remain where it was safe? Besides, she had concocted a poison for this very reason. Even if the battle was taking place against a possessed dragon instead of the Shifter creatures she had planned for, the Amber Aerie Lords could surely use her creation.

“There you are,” the curt feminine voice rang out, the echo of the bath house walls giving it strength and definition. Lis' fingers twitched. It would be awkward to defend herself in such a small space, perhaps this wasn't a safe place after all.

A tiny movement of the air carried a familiar scent to her nose. She hadn't heard anyone approach, which was alarming. She was either losing the sharpness of her senses to exhaustion, or Illaise was a far more dangerous Shifter than she had encountered before.

She turned to find the woman at the entrance to the small change room. It was too dark to see, but she sensed another Shifter, one of her warriors, at her back.

“It took far too long to track you here, are you prepared? We leave immediately.”

Lis' lips pulled tight. “What do you mean we leave immediately, aren't we to wait until the Lords can join us?”

Illaise snorted. “If you would like to procrastinate until the situation is beyond repair then feel free to wait around, but I will take the weapons you promised me. That encampment will not survive the next day,” Illaise sounded fierce, and certain of her position. Part of Lis was drawn to that kind of leadership;.the confidence it was easy to fall in line with, to allow another to make the decisions and take the responsibility for them.

But that wasn't really Lis, and already she balked at the woman's plan instead of falling in line.

“Shifter, you will deliver on your agreement,” Illaise growled, sensing her hesitation. “I could have been far from here by now, attacking the encampment while this Master invades this Aerie, but I waited upon your promise. I will not allow a betrayal at this juncture.”

“And your leaving without the Lords, or their knowledge? Is that not a betrayal?” Lis demanded.

“I owe nothing to the Dragons, you cannot betray what you have never sworn fealty to.”

“Not even your own son?”

That stopped her. Lis immediately regretted her words. What business was it of hers, the woman's relationship with Firestriker? Besides, Lis' words sounded like a challenge, even to her own ears, and she would never best Illaise. Outsmart her maybe, but to face her in battle would be suicide.

“Yes, even my own son, if he has chosen his path,” she surprised Lis by answering, a bitter quality to her tone. “Now, are you with us, or shall we take our weapons and go on our own?”

Lis debated for a moment. Illaise was brash and determined, with the help of her warriors and the smoke vessels she had created, the Alpha might be able to make a true incursion into the Quatori's encampment. And that concerned her. Adda was there somewhere, and she worried that Illaise would not separate her from the evil. Or that she might not care. She seemed like the type of Alpha that could accept the loss of a few innocents if it meant stopping a greater threat.

Not Adda. Lis would see to it herself. She looked up to the sky, the direction that Cillumn had flown. She should alert him somehow, but nothing came to mind. Besides, she wasn't sure he would approve of Illaise's tactics. He didn't seem to approve of her at all.

Indecision tore at her. Cillumn had done so much to aid her, leaving now felt like she was betraying him. But she was cornered prey. What choice did she really have? And there was a part of her that agreed with Illaise's impatience, that was elated to finally be taking some action.

“I am with you,” she said, swallowing the last of her resistance.

“Good,” Illaise nodded and without a word she shifted to wolf and dashed from the doorway and into the night, the warriors behind her following soundlessly.

Carefully Lis arranged the pack so that it would fit securely when she transformed. As she pulled at the added straps and buckles, she glanced up at the pool. What if those were her last moments of peace? She was running now, toward danger, toward something far beyond her capacity to physically fight. She could pray to the Six that her creations would work, and there was a fair chance they would, but that probability did not change the fact she was likely to lose her life in this.

She shook her head, she had to try. Adda would do the same for her. Lis loved Adda, loved her sister, and there was no way she would leave her there in the hands of the Quatori without a fight.

Still, a wayward strand of regret worked its way into her head.

She should have asked Cillumn for more.

***

Cillumn's dragon pumped its wings, great breaths in the otherwise still night. They rose far above the Aerie. Below them, the white stone shrunk until it faded into the darkness.

Fury filled his dragon's veins. It would not tolerate this threat upon its home, upon those it was loyal to, or those it would protect.

Dynarys' dragon, a black beast with scales that swallowed the light instead of reflecting it, flew slightly ahead, leading Cillumn and the others that joined them northward.

There had been no time to discuss the logistics of battle, only to obey Dynarys' command. Cillumn assumed the Lords were being proactive, that the enemy had been spotted in this direction by the newly placed sentries and, instead of waiting for them to reach the Aerie, Dynarys sought to cut off the attack before it neared too close.

Cillumn was grateful for the plan. The knowledge that they were, even now, too far from the Aerie's walls to be seen relieved Cillumn. He hadn't thought it out, when he shifted, the beast inside of him raging to be released. He'd had little choice but to let the dragon free. He worried now, however, that he might have startled Lis, perhaps undone all the work he had accomplished with her fear. A mistake he would have to address later, but at least the exposure had been brief, and she would not be able to see the battle. That eased his thoughts. She was safe, and within the Aerie's walls and he could focus on keeping the attackers at bay.

It was fortunate, too, for, at that moment, a cry rose from the forest. The eerie, desperate noise of the Quatori, but now accompanied by the snarling and snapping of their destroyed jaws. Jaws that might end life as he knew it with a single bite.

He was going to need his wits if he were to survive.

At the cry, several darkened figures shot upward from the ground. The shadows followed them, in a long trail of oozing and swirling.

The dragon shuddered, the scales on its neck lifting slightly. Cillumn didn't blame the beast, such a sight was unnatural and left one with the feeling that only evil was behind it.

Dynarys charged first; if the seeping shadows had disturbed him, he had recovered. He dove straight toward the foremost dragon, the center of the rising force and the focus of the darkness.

Cillumn urged his dragon to follow and it dove, as well, talons extended, prepared to rip and tear at the figures before it.

He didn't reach the enemy. The roar of Dynarys' dragon struck first and he watched the beast as it changed direction in mid-air, slammed into by a column of shadow. The black dragon flapped furiously attempting to keep its place in the sky, but the darkness was stronger. Dynarys' dragon toppled backward, caught in the current.

Cillumn's dragon hesitated only a moment, absorbing the sight, then it changed its course, diving and rolling to the side instead of directly toward the central figure.

A dull gray dragon dove in from the right, barely missing him. This was one of the undamaged beasts, one that might be safely engaged. It banked, no doubt to come back and try once more, but Cillumn encouraged his dragon to continue its path. The sky became a tangle of wings and teeth. Fire spouted from more than one mouth as the two lines of dragons met. At least eight enemies, to the twenty that attacked to defend the Amber Aerie. A battle that should be easily won, if it weren't for the new development.

A burst of flame lit the nearby creatures and, despite the gathering of shadow, Cillumn got a good look at the dragon that had attacked Dynarys. It was, indeed, Grim, hollowed eye sockets and lipless jaws filled with broken and uneven fangs. Behind him, Strale's golden talons scraped viciously at a smaller red creature. The flame had originated from him, and the heat of dragon fire scorched the enemy, one wing obviously damaged. The red beast snapped back, and Cillumn had time to note its eyes were missing, as well, before turning back to the darker dragon.

Inwardly, Cillumn's dragon recoiled, the sight of such mutilation as distressing and evil as the gathering of shadows it held before it. The great head moved back and forth, searching, Cillumn assumed, for a new target. Whatever had become of Dynarys, he was no longer in the midst of this battle.

The deep gray head froze, snout pointing his direction.

Alarm filled Cillumn as the gathered darkness shot out toward him, but his dragon had noticed the intent, as well. It rolled and then spread its wings, catching the air and lifting it rapidly out of the way, just as the column brushed by it.

Odd, to feel the breeze from passing darkness, but it left no doubt in Cillumn's mind that the shadows that Grim used were indeed solid.

As his dragon rose, a force hit it from the left, sending them spinning and toppling. The dragon roared in pain and frustration, whipping its tail toward the offender. Only when his beast snapped savagely did Cillumn realize they had been attacked by another dragon and not the shadows he had first thought.

It was the dull gray creature, back again. It clung to Cillumn's dragon, sharp and bloodied talons curling around his scales and sliding beneath, piercing the flesh that should have been protected. Again his dragon screeched, twisting and trying to dislodge its foe. The gray beast stayed true and it impaired his dragon's wings, so that they continued to tumble, at alarming speed, toward the forest below.

To the right, a form dropped toward the earth, its speed indicating it had help with its direction. The dragon in question appeared unconscious, wounds lined its back and its wings were tattered, but it did not bleed. It was the red dragon Strale had fought and, were it a normal creature, it would have been dead. Branches snapped as it disappeared through the canopy of the trees, which reminded Cillumn they were getting close to the same fate. At the same moment, a third force hit them.

Strale, on the gray dragon's back. His wings were free to pump, and they did so with mighty effort, slowing, but not stopping their fall toward the forest.

It was the gray dragon's turn to shriek, and as it turned its head to deal with the new problem, Cillumn's beast took the opportunity to snap its jaws around the dragon's neck and squeeze.

It surprised him that his dragon did not take more drastic action. It wouldn't be the first time he had killed another. But it did little more than squeeze, tightly, but not firmly enough to pierce beneath the scales and into flesh. The caution was confusing, until Cillumn caught a glimpse of what his dragon must have seen, after all. A wound, along the dragon's upper neck, it was not fresh, and looked as though it festered. The type of wound the Archon had been warned led to possession.

Strale's dragon scraped its talons along the gray's back, opening new wounds, and at last forcing the beast to let go of Cillumn's dragon to defend itself.

For a few wing-beats, Cillumn's dragon fell, rapidly toward the earth, before it was able to correct itself and fly once more.

Wasting no time in recovery, it banked, swooping upward once more, Cillumn thought, to aid Strale with his battle. But the creature didn't head that way, instead it flew north, beyond the fighting, which was deteriorating. The Amber Aerie dragons simply outnumbered the enemy. Only Grim remained unengaged, hurling his shadows toward any who came near. When they had gone enough distance that Cillumn considered commanding his dragon to return, it banked of its own accord, facing the battle once more.

As they had flown, they had gained a fair amount of height, so that now they were well above the remains of the fight and looking downward toward it.

Cillumn's dragon spread its wings wide and, without flapping, began to glide forward, modulating its speed by tilting its wings.

It was approaching silently.

A renewed respect for his symbiont filled him. Not only was the creature wild and ferocious, but cunning, as well. At least it seemed to grasp the danger of this new enemy with little trouble. They gained speed until they were rushing toward Grim from behind, with such velocity that an impact should break Grim's neck.

Something appeared in front and to the side of them. A black form, its neck stretched forward in silent determination. Dynarys' dragon, and though it didn't have the speed that Cillumn's dragon did, it also held its wings in a glide so as to approach with silence.

Grim was busy blasting his darkness toward Strale when they hit, Cillumn first, slamming him well out of the space he had been and toward the earth. Dynarys' dragon flapped once more, struggling to catch up to the toppling pair, but once he did, he showed very little mercy for the destroyed creature. Talons tore at the back of the ruined dragon’s neck, while Cillumn's dragon clung to Grim's wings, preventing him from flight, or turning to confront Dynarys. It occurred to Cillumn that Dynarys was trying to behead the dragon right there in mid-flight.

He succeeded a fair amount, too, exposing the bone of Grim's spine with his clawing, before they were forced to release him or slam into the forest with him.

Both dragons released the enemy at once.

Grim tried to recover, flapping madly, but it was far too late. He smashed between several trees with a great commotion, still trying to spread his wings to slow his fall. There was a heavy thud, and the air filled with silence for a long breath, and then the howls started. The eerie sound of the deformed Shifters, they were down below, likely surrounding Grim now. Too many to even consider landing to face, especially without their weapons.

Around them, Amber Aerie dragons roared their victory, the sky was empty of enemies. But Cillumn and Dynarys's beasts were silent. They already knew.

This wasn't the last they would see of Grim.