Burn(91)

But it needed dragon blood for that. A more potent, purer kind than Kazimir’s changed body could offer.

Well, he’d got that, Agent Dernovich thought, having to look away from the binoculars for a second time as the light blazed. He’d got the blood of a Goddess.

“Please work,” Darlene said next to him. “Oh, please work.”

“Daddy?” Grace said by his side.

“Hide your eyes, sweetheart,” he said.

“Daddy, it’s not working.”

He shielded his eyes with his hand and looked back out into the field of battle.

It wasn’t working.

It wasn’t working. The light was hitting her, just as it had the radio tower, just as it had the satellite, but it was like she was being sprayed with a strong firehose. It knocked her back, but didn’t seem to be doing her any harm. It was as ineffective as dragonfire.

Kazimir finally lowered the Spur as she rose into the air.

“Shit,” Kazimir said, then he turned to Sarah. “Run!”

They ran. The dragon wheeled in the air, a roar of pure fury coming out of her now, as she turned on them.

“No,” Sarah said, sprinting for the fence, as if those three feet of wood planks were going to protect her. “Please.”

Kazimir was looking behind as they went, firing the Spur at the dragon again and again, trying desperately to keep her at bay. “It did not work!” he shouted.

“No kidding!”

“But the prophecy!”

He fired again, but she was on them, above them. They could even see the cold air turning to steam as it roared down her throat, ready to incinerate them.

The army opened fire.

Grace screamed wordlessly as the barrage began. The tanks all fired, the big guns throwing out their charges, the soldiers firing their guns.

“Sarah!” Darlene yelled, turning to Agent Dernovich, who barely heard her over the roar of firepower. “They’ll kill her!”

Agent Dernovich shook his head. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“What do you mean?” Gareth said, but then he saw how Agent Dernovich picked up his daughter, how he held her close against his chest, closed his eyes and softly kissed her on the head.

It was then that Gareth Dewhurst began to pray.

The first tank mortars hit her on the neck, knocking her to one side. They exploded against her skin, and they hurt.

But they did not kill her.

She flapped her great wings harder as the small explosions continued against her chest and wings and legs. Still she rose. The bullets were as nothing. The charges from the bigger guns hurt like pellets, but did no damage. She could endure the mortars. She could certainly endure them long enough to melt the tanks where they stood.

Sarah screamed against the sound of the artillery. It was so loud, she thought she’d go mad. She felt a weight against her back and only slowly realized it was Kazimir, trying to shield her from any stray bullet or shrapnel that came their way. They were in an insanely dangerous place, but running would have been suicide.

She turned her head up to his.

“It’s over,” she said. “Isn’t it?”

He nodded slowly, and she knew it really was. They had failed to stop the dragon, failed to even hurt her much. There was no option left but to drop the biggest bomb the army had on top of her and hope it did the trick.

Everything was lost. Her family there. Her family here. Both Jasons. And soon all hope. Kazimir’s arms were around her neck, and in the cataclysm of the barrage, she took them in her hands and held him tight back.

It was the end. They would face it together.

“You were remarkable,” he said into her ear.

“You, too,” she said.

They huddled against the ground and waited for the world to end.

They would all die. All of them.

She flew straight into the barrage, carving a line of gathered forces with as hot a fire as she could create. Soldiers didn’t even have time to scream as they were atomized. Tanks exploded, melting into vapor as they flew through the air.

They would die. They would pay for killing her brood. They would pay for not bowing to her. They would pay for the lives she’d had to lead as one of them for too long.

She remembered who she was.

She was a Goddess.

She destroyed another row of tanks, another row of soldiers, flying fast along the front line, pulling up to circle around for another pass. She knew they would try to bomb her. She knew it must be coming any moment, but she would knock the planes from the sky.

There’d be nothing to stop her.

Mortar and tank fire followed her. One blast punched a small hole in her wing. She cried out in pain, wheeled to one side and found herself flying straight for a barn.

The dragon shifted suddenly in the air, and in a split second, was heading right for them. Agent Dernovich vaguely heard the Dewhursts and Mr. Inagawa cry out.

He held Grace away from what was coming. He would face the dragon. He would face it so his daughter wouldn’t have to.

There was a man still standing on the open second floor of the barn. Others were trying to escape, but this man stood his ground as she steadied herself in the air with the hole in her wing. It was difficult, but it was doable.

The man’s face . . .

His smell . . .

She knew it.

He held a little girl in his arms, but it was him she knew.