Verath the Red (Dragonwall Series #3)

Chapter 20 - Surrendering the Fort

Fort Squall

Reyr disengaged, kicking a dragon away with his hind legs. The frenzy of battle gripped him, sent him into a frenzy. He hardly recognized himself—what he was. He only knew one thing. Defeat his enemy.

His powerful thrust sent the dragon spiraling off. Freed, he abruptly changed course, looking, searching. There! He found what he wanted.

Below him, a wide swath of Squall's End's eastern quarter had erupted in flame. The smoke billowed up in black plumes, blotting out the sky. He flew through a column of it and the world around him winked out. Darkness. Moments later, the sunshine reappeared.

Sounds pierced the air like knives slicing the world. Screams. So many screams. Everywhere. The scent of charred flesh drifted up into the sky. He followed the green dragon responsible for the flames, beating his wings to the breaking point, pushing against the strain to catch his prey. To kill it. And then he'd find Kane.

Closer, closer...

He could almost reach out with his snout and snap its spiked tail. He flapped his wings harder, pushing. Nearly there now. His jaws opened, readying for the bite. His teeth, pointed and sharp enough to rip into scale, clamped down! He latched onto the tip of the green's tail, jerking it back with a flick of his head.

Everything stopped. His vision flashed white. Blinding. Immense pain pounded against his heart, stabbing, suffocating. He roared, releasing the green. It flapped wildly away, putting distance between them.

He didn't notice its retreat. He didn't notice anything. Only the death pain in his chest as it all but stopped his heart. His body seized. He forgot to flap his wings, forgot to breathe, to think.

"Davi!" There was no answer. He cried out again, already knowing there would never be an answer. His body shuddered. His maw opened wide. His roar split his throat wide open, tearing through his vocal cords.

Davi was...gone.

Other roars followed his. He joined their cries. Each keening call, each choking screech turned pitiful, pathetic. He searched the sky, scanning the bay, the coastline. Davi had fallen, and Emmy with him. There one moment, gone the next.

How?! How could this have happened? What he saw broke him anew.

The city burned, dragons and Drengr alike were dead, floating in the bloodied waters of the bay. Screams of loss and pain. And for what? Death? Destruction?

They had lost. It was all lost...

His breaths turned to sobs as memories of Gemma's death began to mingle with Davi's. His heart stuttered. Skipped. Convulsed. His lungs heaved, gasping at air as he tried to remind his wings to keep beating, to keep flying. He wanted to stop, to fall to the earth, to leave the fort to its fate. And why shouldn't he?

It was over...wasn't it?

Shock and denial gave way to burning anger. It replaced the clawing ache in his chest. Dragonwall had taken everything from him. Everything! This kingdom had taken all he had ever held dear. Taken it hungrily. His parents. Talon's parents. Gemma. His brother. Gone. All gone. He had nothing now.

Nothing.

His chest deflated.

"I couldn't save them, Uncle..." Byron's voice was a distant thought, barely noticeable.

Byron. His nephew. So...not everything. There was still something left, someone left. Someone worth fighting for.

Images flashed through his mind. Byron sent a stream of explanations for what had happened. He saw Davi's neck snap. He saw Emmy sliced open from shoulder to hip, innards spilling out, cradled in Byron's arms.