Lord's Fall (Elder Races #5)(77)

Dragos wanted to spit fire. What a cluster f**k. Even if they took the enthralled Elves prisoner, they didn’t have any place to hold them. Get back to the bluff and issue a no-kill order, he snapped. If you can, focus on taking the kids and knock the rest of them back when they reach the top. Then if the falls kills anybody, it’s on me.

Bayne spun on his heel and loped away.

Dragos had to find Calondir. They could not continue to stay in this frozen state any longer. Whether Amras Gaeleval was a victim or not was beside the point. He was too dangerous, and he was causing too much damage. They had to stop him.

He strode to the heart of the Elven camp. “Get Calondir,” he said to the first Elf that came toward him. The Elf took one wide-eyed look at him and spun away. Moments later, Calondir shoved out of a tent and hurried toward him, buckling on his sword as he approached and followed by Ferion and a few others.

Dragos told the Elf Lord in a preemptory tone, “Gaeleval slipped past our defenses. Somehow he got to Pia in a dream, and he might have gotten to others. Now he’s sent Numenlaurians to scale the bluff. I’ve told my people to knock them back for now, but there’s no more time to f**k around. We can’t put this off any longer. We have to go after him, Calondir.”

Calondir studied him with an inscrutable expression. Then the Elf Lord said abruptly, “I understand.” He said to the others, “As heartsick as this makes all of us, we must find where he is keeping our people and concentrate our efforts on them. After that, we will help who we can of any Numenlaurians that survive.”

“None of this is going to come easy,” Dragos told him. “Bayne said Gaeleval’s keeping the strongest back and sending out battle fodder to climb the bluff. Your people are the strongest. They’re certainly the healthiest. That means he’s holding them close. They’ll be wherever he is, because they are his best defense.”

The hollows around Calondir’s eyes grew deeper as his face tightened, but he nodded. “Above all else, we have to make him stop using the Machine. Will you allow me to ride with you once more, so that we can hunt him together?”

He ground his teeth. “Yes, of course, but we must do it now.”

Calondir turned to Ferion. “Keep the fight defensive, and don’t hesitate to do what you have to do to protect yourself.”

“Yes, my lord,” Ferion said. He said very low, eyes pleading, “But I would come with you.”

“No, Ferion,” Calondir said, just as quietly. “You are my heir. You know that we do not fight together.”

Dragos had had enough. They were idiots if they hadn’t already said everything they needed to say to each other before now. “Get out of the way,” he said to those that hovered nearby. As soon as they were out of the way, he shifted and expanded. The dragon looked down at the Elf Lord. “Come.”

Calondir leaped onto his back, and Dragos unfurled his wings. He took one moment to look over the encampment for one last glimpse of Pia. She was just outside their tent and tying on a cloak, and she paused as she caught sight of him. She looked calm.

She blew a kiss subtly, pressing the tips of her fingers to her lips and releasing them a few inches toward him.

The dragon smiled. Then he crouched and launched into the air. When he had cleared the trees, he wheeled and flew toward the Numenlaurian army in the valley.

• • •

Pia watched Dragos soar into the air. She fought the panicky compulsion to call out to him and try to coax him into returning. He wouldn’t, nor should he. Talking to him now would only distract him from what he needed to do.

Eva and the psychos stood in a circle around her. She turned her attention to them. They watched her, ready for orders.

“I have no idea,” she said irritably, unintentionally echoing what Dragos had said the night before. She looked at Hugh. “Except for you. You need to stay with me and be ready to shapeshift at a moment’s notice. If Dragos or one of the sentinels gets hurt, and I tell you to take me to them, you will take me. No hesitation.” Eva had started to protest, and Pia turned to stare the other woman down. “No arguments, no back talk.”

Eva’s face compressed. She looked ready to explode. “Jesus Christ and all his hairy-assed apostles,” she hissed. “Hugh can only carry one person at a time.” She turned to Johnny. “Find me another avian fighter who’s strong enough to carry me, and make it snappy.”

He looked from Eva to Pia, backed up a few steps and whirled to spring away.

Pia rubbed her face. Most of the camp had raced along the path to the bluff, and the noise level had increased from that direction. Shouts and curses echoed as sharp as gunshot reports against tree trunks. She pinched her nose. The sounds dug into her gut and strung out her nerves. It was even harder to listen to because she couldn’t see what was happening.

“Crossbow,” Eva said quietly.

She threw up her hands. “Fuck you.”

Despite her reaction, she spun and reached into the tent for the crossbow and the bolts. Then she hesitated as she contemplated her pack. She hadn’t been able to eat the night before and she hadn’t eaten this morning either. Nerves might have her stomach tied in knots, but she also felt lightheaded and hollow.

She spat out another curse, snatched up her pack to find a protein bar, tore it open and jammed it into her mouth. With the way her luck had been going lately she was probably going to hork it all back up again, but she had to try to get some nutrition down.