Last Dragon Standing (Heartstrikers #5)(36)
“Fair enough,” the general admitted. “But how do you propose we get to her? The Leviathan is drinking her down as we speak, and we’re still stuck in this bubble.”
“I don’t think he’s going as fast as we feared, though,” Julius said excitedly. “The river and Lake St. Clair are gone, but if the other Great Lakes are anything like Erie, we’ve still got a chance. Before he left, Raven said we had two hours tops before the magic dropped enough to go outside. If the Leviathan doesn’t finish her off before then—and at the rate he’s going, I don’t think he will—we can go out there and buy time to find Algonquin and convince her to stop her monster for us.”
“Buy time?” Svena asked. “How does one buy time against a Nameless End? What do you intend to do, talk it to death?”
Julius smiled. “I was actually thinking of something more traditional. We can fight it.”
“Fight a Nameless End?” Amelia said. “Like, with claws and fire?” When Julius nodded, she threw her hands in the air. “That’s it. You’ve officially gone from crazy optimistic to plain old crazy.”
“Just hear me out,” Julius said. “I’m not saying we should fight the Leviathan himself. That is crazy. He’s the size of the entire sky. But we don’t actually need to defeat him. We just need to stall long enough to convince Algonquin to do it for us.”
“Stalling, huh?” Marci said, tapping her fingers thoughtfully on her bracelet. “You mean like make a distraction?”
“I was actually thinking we should go for the tentacles,” Julius said. “That’s how he’s sucking up her water. If we start cutting them off, it’s bound to have some effect.”
“Assuming they can be cut,” General Jackson said grimly. “I’ve fought the Leviathan before, and while I was able to damage him, he always healed immediately. The thing above us is infinitely bigger and stronger than the shadow we faced in Reclamation Land. He may not be vulnerable at all now.”
“I bet he’s vulnerable to dragon fire,” Amelia said with a smoky grin. “I’ve never fought a Nameless End, but until he’s big enough to haul the rest of himself in through the barrier, that thing is ninety-nine point nine percent Algonquin. That makes him spirit magic, and I know for a fact that spirits burn.”
“It’s true,” Svena said cruelly. “I’ve sent several back to their domains myself. They always burn so prettily.” She looked up through the hole in the Skyways where one of the Leviathan’s tentacles was passing overhead. “I could burn that.”
“But could you burn enough?” Chelsie asked. “Julius just said the Leviathan was the size of the entire sky. Given the number of tentacles I’ve already seen above us, we’re talking about thousands of targets spread out over hundreds, maybe thousands of square miles. That’s too much even for you, White Witch.”
Svena growled deep in her throat at the implied weakness, and Julius quickly jumped in. “We don’t have to get all the tentacles. Again, we’re just trying to slow him down, not cut him off entirely, and we don’t have to do it with only the dragons we have here.” He turned to the Qilin. “You said your clan was already on its way, and Fredrick can bring in the rest of the Heartstrikers with his Fang. That’s a lot of dragons if we all work together. More than enough to keep the Leviathan from drinking the last of Algonquin long enough for me to get a chance to talk to her.”
“Which I still don’t think will work,” General Jackson said. “I like the idea of burning tentacles to buy time, but the end goal of your operation is fundamentally flawed. We could buy you a year, and it still wouldn’t make a difference, because no matter what you say, Algonquin will not listen.”
“How do you know that?” Julius demanded.
“Because Algonquin never listens.”
The sudden booming voice made Marci jump. She hadn’t even heard him coming in, but Raven was suddenly right on top of them. The true Raven, landing on the muddy ground beside them in all his huge, feathered glory. In this form, his head rose even taller than the Black Reach, and his flight feathers were as long as Marci’s leg, each one shining with a black rainbow sheen like oil on water. He actually looked like a god for once, but his magnificence was undermined by the very mortal look of terror in his black eyes.
“I take it things on the other side didn’t go well,” General Jackson said grimly.
“They didn’t go at all,” Raven replied, shaking his huge head. “Algonquin’s not in her vessel.”
“What?” Marci cried. “But that’s impossible. Spirits are defined by their vessels. It’s what gives you guys your shape. How can she not be there?”
“I have no idea,” the spirit said. “But I know Algonquin’s shores below the Sea of Magic almost as well as I know my own, and she’s not there. Nothing was, except that thing’s vile tentacles.”
“Wait,” Amelia said, her voice shaking. “You’re saying he’s got tentacles inside a spirit vessel? As in at the bottom of the Sea of Magic?”
“He’s got tentacles everywhere. The other side’s filthy with them, and that’s not the worst of it.” The Raven Spirit swung his huge beak toward Julius. “I heard your plan through my Emily’s ears. Your idea of talking to Algonquin is utter rubbish. She’s never listened to anyone who says things she doesn’t want to hear. She’s certainly not going to start with a dragon. Not even you, Julius Heartstriker. I am well aware of your reputation for turning enemies into allies, but this is beyond even your powers. In case her wholesale slaughter of your kind a few days ago in the DFZ wasn’t clue enough, Algonquin hates dragons only slightly less than she hates Mortal Spirits. Even if you could somehow miraculously push through that millennia-old resentment, it wouldn’t matter, because you can’t talk to her. Not where she is.”