Slay (Fuse Book 4), page 33
They eventually broke apart, both too tired to continue.
Don’t let your guard down.
Too busy inhaling breath, he didn’t have a retort.
“It looks like we’re evenly matched, Rush.”
“We would have been evenly matched before—if you hadn’t cheated.”
He grinned, as if it was a fond memory. “There’s no cheating in battle. There’s only a winner and a loser.”
He’s about to do something.
Rush tightened his grip on his sword.
“I’ve got to say, your sister is one fine piece of—”
General Noose yanked out his dagger and chucked it hard. It would have stabbed Rush right in the cheek if he didn’t duck at the last possible moment. Then General Noose charged like a bear, heading straight for Rush like he intended to ram him over the wall.
Duck.
Instead of dodging to the side, he dropped to his knees and felt General Noose’s enormous body land on top of his. Then he pushed up and hurled him over the wall. General Noose let out a scream as he went over.
Now what? He retreated to the center of the rampart and waited for him to return.
Through the smoke, the dragon returned, gray with lines across his body, like a print of a wildcat. He perched at the edge and looked down at Rush, nostrils smoldering with fire.
“Cheating gets you nowhere, asshole.”
General Noose returned to his feet, and he came at a dead run, ready to stab his blade through Rush’s gut.
Exhausted from the battle and weak from the lack of air, Rush just wanted to end this, kill the bastard who kissed his father’s ass like it was made of gold. If only he had killed him sooner, the dragon would have been spared, but now his life would be lost as well.
Flare gave him a rush of strength. The battle has weakened him. Now is your chance.
Rush came at him hard, swinging the sword with the strength of both man and dragon.
General Noose met Rush’s steel with his own, and they engaged in a series of blows.
There were no taunts now. Just focused concentration, the victor trying to tire out the defeated. The power behind the blows weakened, and the speed came to a halt as well. Smoke burned their eyes and made them tear, and the steadiness of their swords waned when the coughs overtook them.
General Noose slammed down Rush’s sword then punched his fist directly into his face.
Rush rolled back with the hit, his nose exploding with blood. His back hit the ground, and his sword came loose from his grasp.
“Finally.” General Noose came down on him, sword raised high over his head.
Rush rolled at the last possible second and slammed his foot down on General Noose’s knee. The force penetrated the armor, and an audible crack sounded.
General Noose gave a howl as he faltered, his hand gripping the knee that couldn’t support his weight anymore.
Kill. Him.
Rush kicked his other leg out from under him then pounced. His hands went for his throat and squeezed.
General Noose did the same, his hands grabbing Rush’s neck so tightly that a single breath couldn’t escape.
Now it boiled down to who could hold their breath the longest, who could withstand the weakness that spread through their bodies. Both faces went red, both started to shake. The general’s eyes started to bulge because they couldn’t be deprived of oxygen a moment longer. He freed his hand and slammed it into Rush’s skull.
Rush took the hit so he could grab the dagger on his belt. He snatched it and stabbed it deep into General Noose’s neck, not once, but three times, making sure he hit the artery.
Death came for him instantly, before he even gasped for the breath he’d desperately needed seconds ago. His eyes shifted slightly until they went rigid, looking at the sky up above, reflecting the clouds of smoke and embers.
Rush fell back to his knees, sucking in both smoke and air as he tried to catch his breath.
A victory for the dragons.
Just one of many that we need to win the war…
THIRTY-SIX
The Green Blade
It was unlike any battle he’d ever fought.
Chaos surrounded him, dragons clawing at dragons in the sky, dwarves dead at his feet, their eyes reflecting the stars that pierced the clouds of smoke. The stench of melted flesh twinged his nostrils with every breath. When he stepped over a body, sometimes it was the enemy, but sometimes it was a friend.
And sometimes it was an elf he knew by name. “Mera-Nil-Weia.” He moved forward, taking down a Fazurk entirely on his own with a few swipes of his sword. The beast collapsed, only to be replaced by another and then another. His beautiful armor was discolored from the blood of his enemies, dripping down the metal flowers he proudly wore.
ROOOOOOOAAAAAARRRRRR! A yellow dragon appeared in the sky, spraying a stream of fire right in his path.
He remembered that dragon from a night like this one. Smoke filled the sky with the same heaviness. The urgency was the same, along with the risk. “Move!” He grabbed the elf closest to him and shoved him aside, getting him away from the fire headed right for them. Callon maneuvered out of the way, but the heat of the flames still got underneath his armor as it passed. He had to listen to the screams of those who were trapped and unable to evade the worst possible death.
He watched the dragon circle then depart, heading to one of the fortresses.
It is him.
YES.
I will take you there. Talc came forth, her green scales the same color as his armor. Everyone turned at the sight of the dragon who came from nowhere. She pushed off the ground and took to the skies.
She soared to the fortress where he’d last been seen, on the rooftops high above the battle. She landed with a thud and swiped her horned tail to knock off all the soldiers in her path.
Callon came forth, sword in his hand, his green cape flapping in the high winds that swirled at the top of the fortress.
The steward’s actions must have been intentional, because he stood there dressed in red, a smirk on his face. He had his sword in hand, mirthless glee shining with the same intensity as the flames down below. “Callon Riverglade, King of Eden Star, how kind of you to grace me with your presence.” He gave a sarcastic bow, his eyes remaining on Callon’s all the way. “Can’t help but wonder, if Weila had been fused with a dragon such as yourself, would she have prevailed?”
It wasn’t a breath or a grunt that came out of his mouth. It was something else entirely, rage that couldn’t be expressed in any language of Anastille. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword, anxious to throw it perfectly and stab him right through the hollow of his throat. “I need no dragon to slay you.” TALC, LEAVE.
I must protect you—
LEAVE ME NOW. I ALONE MUST DO THIS.
Talc hesitated before she broke apart, her essence severing from his completely.
Callon could feel the difference immediately, felt truly alone once again.
Talc opened her wings and flew away, disappearing in the smoke.
The steward stared at his opponent. “I’m not sure if you’re very brave…or just proud.”
Callon launched himself full speed ahead. “Both.” His green blade danced in a flourish, moving so quickly that anyone who hadn’t seen Talc fly away would assume he had the power of a dragon at his fingertips.
The steward blocked every blow, but he was a little slow on the uptake, struggling to match the speed of a man driven insane by grief. The gloating smile dropped as his feet carried him away, avoiding the rage infused in the elvish blade. He ducked left and right, all his focus on the savagery of the king.
Callon didn’t tire. He didn’t slow. Now that they weren’t confined to the cell that had contained them during their last battle, he could use his full abilities, take up the entire rooftop as he used a lifetime of service against the man who had claimed the life of his soul mate, the mother of his son, the source of all his joy.
The steward was scared. It was written on his face.
That fueled Callon on, the movement of his sword artwork, a masterpiece in death.
The steward didn’t parry the blow and caught the blade along the inside of his elbow. The blood poured, matching the color of his armor as it dripped to the rooftop. He hardly gave a wince before he blocked the next hit. He did his best to push Callon back, but he was on the defensive the entire time, Callon driving him farther and farther back.
The Steward of Easton tripped over his own cape and fell to the floor.
Callon gathered his sword in both hands and prepared to stab him right through the neck and into his spine, but then yellow scales erupted as the dragon came forth. “Nooooo!” He sliced at the scales, but they were like rocks against his blade. “Fight me, you coward!”
The steward jumped over the edge and let his wings catch him. He disappeared into the smoke.
Helpless, Callon stood there, angry tears burning in his eyes.
Thud.
Callon turned around and saw Talc.
She was on her belly, ready for him to climb up her back and straddle her neck. She gave a nod, telling him to ride her.
Callon sheathed his sword and ran to her. The second he was on her back, she took to the skies and disappeared into the smoke where the Steward of Easton had just disappeared as the yellow dragon. She beat her wings hard, ignored the battle happening around them, and caught a glimpse of the yellow scales far ahead.
Callon gripped hard on her scales, watching the yellow dragon in the distance, who seemed to be leaving High Castle altogether. “Faster.”
Her wings worked as hard as possible, powering them through the skies at deadly speed. They caught up to him quickly. He seemed unaware initially, assuming Callon would be unable to catch him without his dragon.
Callon balanced on his feet on the dragon, ready to jump overboard.
Talc came closer, getting as close as she could.
The yellow dragon gave a roar when he noticed them up above.
Callon went for it, hurtled himself through the air just as the steward gave a sharp turn.
By some miracle, Callon landed on the very bottom of the dragon’s spine and latched on before he could slip off.
The steward did a spin, trying to throw him off and send him flying to his death.
Callon held on.
ROOOOAAAAAARRRRR!
Little by little, Callon climbed, digging his fingers into the grooves between the scales, hoisting his heavy body farther up, even as the world tossed and turned, even when he didn’t know sky from earth.
He reached the neck, and at the moment the steward righted himself, Callon stabbed his blade right through the base of his neck, shoving it so deep only the hilt remained on the surface.
The dragon immediately fell from the sky, spiraling to the earth.
It was a long fall, so far that it would claim Callon’s life when he reached the bottom.
A sense of peace ran up his spine, satisfied that he had accomplished what he set out to do, that he had killed the barbarian who took his Sun-Lei away. Now he could join her, her life avenged.
Just when he closed his eyes, mighty talons enclosed around him and pulled him free from the falling dragon.
He looked up, seeing green scales shining in the starlight.
Thud.
The yellow dragon crashed to the earth.
The Steward of Easton was no more.
THIRTY-SEVEN
The Plan
Cora hopped off Ashe and landed in the tall grass of the field. Flames scorched High Castle, pieces of the castle crumbling apart and creating a landslide that buried thousands of soldiers. Dwarves clung to the sides of the keep, the survivors on the walls that remained intact. Captain Hurricane had stopped the cannons, so now it was just dragon on dragon, their talons locked in battle above them. Shamans rode their steeds, sending fireballs at opposing dragons, working together to perform Skull Crushers on the dragons and drop them from the sky.
To their left, a yellow dragon fell through the air and hit the earth with a sound that made Cora jump several feet in the air. A large pile of dust flew up and drifted toward where she and Ashe stood. “I recognize that dragon… I’m pretty sure it’s the Steward Easton.”
Talc.
“What?”
Ashe gave a nod.
Cora followed his gaze, seeing the mighty green dragon fly off with Callon gripped in her talons. “I hope it brings him peace…”
He has bad blood with the steward?
“The Steward of Easton killed his wife in the last battle…”
Ashe didn’t have the capability to express emotions with his features the way Cora did, but his eyes did change, as if that information made his heart clench. I would slaughter the monster that claimed the life of my Zuhurk. I hope his blood lust has been satisfied.
“I’m sure it has…at least temporarily.” She turned back to Ashe, the two of them alone in the field. “What’s your idea, Ashe?”
You said something in Eden Star that I haven’t forgotten.
“What?”
That you wish there was a way to force man and dragon to unfuse.
Her eyes narrowed, vaguely remembering the conversation.
If Shamans have the ability to force a fuse, there’s no reason they can’t perform the reverse.
Her heart did a somersault, and her spine gave a shiver. She turned to look at High Castle, seeing the chaos that ensued. Captain Hurricane directed his cannons at the castle, and the first round made the castle vibrate under the force. Her breath hitched before she turned back to Ashe in disbelief. “You’re right, but how do we do it?”
That, I don’t know.
“If I could get close to King Lux, perhaps I can do it.”
I have a better idea. Remember at Mist Isle when you connected to every dragon on the island? When you were able to converse as if you were one of us?
“Yes.”
We do that again, fuse with all of them at once, and then perhaps you can force every dragon to unfuse from their masters simultaneously.
The excitement was too much to contain. “That would stop the war immediately.”
Yes.
“And it would spare all the dragons too.”
Exactly.
“I can do it. I know I can.”
Alright, I’ll connect us with everyone.
Cora, are you okay?
All the excitement she’d just felt disappeared—like that. I’m fine. What about you guys?
General Noose is dead.
Good! What happened?
What do you mean, what happened? I killed him.
I’m so glad that asshole is gone. Callon killed the Steward of Easton.
Rest in peace, Uncle…or not.
Ashe came back to her. Are you ready, Cora?
Ready for what?
She held her silence, her stomach tied in the tightest knot.
ROOOOAAAAAAARRRRRRRR.
The dragons scattered as another joined the skies. Enormous, blue like twilight, his powerful scales shining in the starlight, Obsidian came onto the scene. His large wings carried his massive body, and he gave a long turn before he soared over the castle, his head dipped as he searched for someone.
Looks like Dad wants a word.
Cora.
Wish me luck. Rush left.
Cora turned back to Ashe, seeing the wrath in his eyes. “I can’t.”
Smoke immediately dispersed from his nostrils. His life is not more important than my kin.
“We wouldn’t have gotten this far without him—”
He’s not worth it.
“Ashe—”
If he’s the man you say he is, he would agree.
“I know he would—which is why I didn’t tell him.”
ROOOOOOAAAAARRRRRR.
Her hair flew back from his voice, and she stumbled backward, almost falling to her ass. “Ashe, King Lux is guarded by his Shamans. It’s going to take every ounce of energy just to force him to part with Obsidian. That’s what we should focus on, because if King Lux is dead, along with General Noose and the Steward of Easton, then the war is over.”
His nostrils continued to spit out smoke.
“We don’t have time to argue, alright? Let’s go.”
He gave another burst of smoke but silenced his arguments. We need Grave. He may be able to help.
THIRTY-EIGHT
The Battle of Two Kings
Callon spotted the blue dragon in the sky, watched it release a stream of flame over the elven army down below. It scorched hundreds in its path then kept going, his body concealed in metal plates that protected its already impenetrable scales.
“King Lux.”
Talc redirected her path and followed him.
Callon watched through the opening in her talons, watched Obsidian glide toward a field on the east side of the castle. The castle continued to be bombarded with cannons from the south, and the Guardians had joined the fight, forcing the empire to fight on two fronts.
When the blue dragon landed on the earth, the blue scales immediately disappeared, replaced by a man in midnight-black armor.
Talc landed and released Callon.
He marched forward and unsheathed his blade. “Leave.”
Talc released a loud growl.
“This battle is between kings.”
Steeds appeared from the sky and landed on either side of Talc. Shamans dismounted, the ones who had marched alongside the elves from Eden Star. Callon stared at them, his eyes narrowed.
More steeds appeared on the other side, King Lux’s own protection coming to his aid.
Grave drew close to Callon. “The Living Shaman has ordered me to protect you.”
He assumed that meant Cora. He ignored him and stepped forward, approaching King Lux with his heavy blade in hand.
The king’s only visible feature was his bright-blue eyes, the same as Rush’s. It was hard for Callon to look and see any differences between the two. His helmet hid his mouth from view, covered his entire face. His armor was different from the last time Eden Star had marched on High Castle. The armor was made of dragon bone, painted the color of the darkest night, impenetrable to breakage or decay, even time. “Did the revenge satisfy you?”
