Wylde Magic | Book 3

Fifty Eight: A Monstrous Fight

The thing that Bara Khalja raised had at one time been a dragon. It's eyes were now empty, the skin stretched tight over its bony frame was unnerving. Despite whatever it may have once been, it was now a terrifying enemy at Bara Khalja's fingertips.

Spaulder did not take it well.

At our backs, I could feel Spaulder's fury even before he made a move. It blasted through me and I grabbed Schula's hand just before the impact of his roar hit.

A loud, low blast of anguish roared from Spaulder. It was unlike any sound I had ever heard before, and the sound from the ear I had injured weeks ago flickered in and out of deafness as my natural healing attempted to repair the damage as it came.

Schula and I were knocked from our feet, tumbling forward until Schula froze a jagged wall to stop us. And that was a small portion of the damage from Spaulder's furious roar. His head was over us as he let loose the powerful lament, so the brunt of the force was actually directed to Bara Khalja.

The force from Spaulder was tremendous. It ripped the rare marshland trees from their roots. It knocked most of the enemy army down, sending their prone forms tumbling through the scattering muddy water.

'Abomination!' Spaulder roared and I knew his furious words were ripping through every conscious mind for miles around. 'Wicked necromancer! You disturb the slumber of an elder dragon! How dare you sully the eternal sleep of one who's life has ended gloriously on a battlefield? You will die for your sins!'

I barely got to my feet in time to see Spaulder's charge. Throwing his weight forward and pushing his wings until he left the ground. He sped forward towards Bara Khalja in a viscous lunge.

As Spaulder charged at the warlock, the raised dragon with its horrid empty eyes and bone complexion, rammed itself into Spaulder's side. In the clash, Bara Khalja was practically thrown from the mountainous pile of earth the raised dragon had emerged from. I nearly lost sight of him as he slid down the side of it, but he regained himself enough to come out at the bottom still standing.

I ran in the direction of where Bara Khalja had ended up, feeling Schula right on my heels. The sloppy ground slowed us down some but I climbed and clawed my way through the marsh waters and grasses with all of my strength, my vision tunneling to the image of Bara Khalja and nothing else.

Fueled by my own anger and rage over what he had done, to the Wyldes, to my mother, I threw fire in his direction the second I thought he was close enough to hit.

"Watch out!" Schula screamed, pulling me down into the muddy water just as a huge white tail slammed onto the grass where I had just been.

I came up sputtering and cursing, sparing a glance to the dragons locked in a furious, raging fight.

The horns sound again. A ringing clash of battle sounds somewhere beyond my vision of Bara Khalja. Whoever it is, I held hope they could distract the army while my triquetram dealt with the real problems on this battlefield.

Spaulder roared again, shaking the ground as he threw himself into the white dragon, slamming them both into the mud.

I clamored onto my feet, pulling Schula up with me before taking off again to charge at Bara Khalja. The warlock's eyes met mine in a greedy viciousness as he turned his staff my direction.

"You do not scare me, little girl," he called as I drew closer. "Your powers may have saved you from my plague, but they will not save you from my army!"

In a waving motion with his staff, he ushered a swarm of his risen dead in our direction.

Schula stiffened behind me, her voice low and icy. "You sent that plague upon the Wyldes for Wren? No other reason than Wren?"