All thought of argument fled as the group poured from the training hall. Elery belted out orders as they ran. "Strong casters, up to the tower! Prepare your strongest casts and try to keep the dragons at bay. Bladesmen to the doors, prepare to keep the enemy out. If Loix's loyalists become a hindrance, add them to the body count. Vydel, do as you intend. Whatever becomes of you, I wish you well on your way."
"And the same to you, Princess." The woman held up one clawed, scaled hand and split from the group. Her short tail bobbed behind her with each step.
They approached the front and the doors buckled inward. The knights rushed forward, jostling her in their haste.
She ached to rest her hand on her sword, but a sword in a weak grip would do no good to anyone.
Isandel stepped forward as Dakkan stood at her side. The doors bulged inward again. A flash of gray scales showed through the momentary gap in the doors. The dragon outside roared. It was a terrible sound that rung down the halls, shaking loose stone bits from the walls.
Again the doors pushed in and part of the hinges snapped. Bolts and a scrap of metal flew inward before they collapsed with a deafening clang.
The moment Elery could see the assaulting-dragon's head she focused her aura on the minute sparks of static clinging to its scales. With a rough yet controlled pulse she fed the spark to ignite the loose debris clinging to the creature's body.
The dragon jerked back, giving her a better view of its half-rotted hide. Black innards were visible through gaping holes in the flesh and scales, leaving her to wonder how Celestine truly imagined her world.
She shook the idle contemplation from her mind and turned her attention to the swarm of corpse knights rushing the opening. As the dragon burned, emitting a foul stench that turned the stomachs of those victim to it, dead knights poured through the door with weapons in hand.
Dakkan leaped forward, rending through rotten flesh with vicious swipes of his long claws. Isandel joined the fray as well. His hands and arms regained their draconic appearance. The enemy's blades scraped against the new, gleaming scales covering his clawed hands before his nails found their way into their armor and the soft tissue of their throats.
Elery stepped back and focused her aura into the floor. It seeped through the cracks in each stone, seeking out small seeds tracked in by the knights. Seeds, she'd come to realize, were everywhere. Even in the most unlikely places she could feel them calling out for nourishment.
But those she found were of no help. They were various flowers, small sprigs, no vines or large plants which could be harnessed to snare enemies. Those which could be of help were beyond the door. It was to these seeds she offered up her aura, feeding it to the small seedlings quivering with indescribable eagerness within their shells.
The vines burst forth and she drew her aura up to guide their growth. The plants grew thick—thicker than they might if left to their own nature. They snared the dead and began pulling many of them back.
She sought out more, creating a thick weave of vines across the broken wall. It would not last long. The tender flesh of foliage would not hold against claw, tooth, or sword. But the delay allowed her allies to disable those who'd breached the door.
Snared knights trapped within the vine lattice stared inward at them through emotionless, dead eyes. If the vines were to be cut, at least it would rid them of a few more enemies in the process.
As the last corpse fell, silence descended in the hall. The large space, full of blood and dismembered bodies, seemed large enough for Isandel to transform if need called for it.
Elery watched the vines. Her heart raced in anticipation.
They could rip through at any moment.
Yet they didn't.
Her allies looked between each other and back to the tendril lattice, sickness, pain and confusion in their faces. She knew none of them imagined ever seeing their allies this way. None imagined ever having to cut them down. She imagined fewer still believed they would be anything less than one unified force, not the fractured mess Loix had created.
Isandel moved back, stepping close to her side. Blood dripped from his fingers and spattered on the floor, joining the rest of the crimson pools spreading at their feet. "Something is amiss. Are there other ways through which someone can enter the fort?"
The others all turned to look at him through wide, fear-stricken eyes.
"There are two entry points. One on each side of the river," a young man replied.
Elery's gasped. "The bridge!"
Dakkan snarled and raced toward the stairs. "Invasion from the bridge will cut us from the casters!"
Half of her allies ran behind Dakkan and Elery took up the rear. She disliked the position. Fighting without a blade in hand felt unnatural, and simply waiting to cast whatever might work, forced to rely on powers she had only recently learned, left her feeling uncertain of her role in the fight.
She steeled herself against the pain in her shoulder as she took the stairs two at a time. Her ears filled with the ring of armor jostling together and the heavy footsteps up the long stone stairway. The noise was doubled as she reached the middle.
Her balance wavered as several knights pushed her backward.
Isandel swept behind her and caught her against his chest to keep her from tumbling down the stairs. He held her until she regained her footing, then released her and drew her blade from her side. "I'll have need of this, my Princess."
Screaming from atop the stairs sent a bolt of panic through her. "What is happening?" she yelled.
"We are overrun, Princess!" someone called over the chaos. "They have severed our path! We cannot fight here!"
Elery's heart seized. Only a few paces from the top of the stairs lay a second staircase leading to the tower. What would she find if by chance miracle they could push their way through?
Her eyes stung with tears at the unbidden images of Cylphi and the others crumpled to the floor, bloody, their blood spent upon the gray stone.
Isandel gripped her chin and turned her to meet his gaze. "I know what runs through your head and I tell you now, cast it out. You've no room for fear and doubt now. They are still alive. I feel their aura above us. No doubt they've blocked them out. We need only defeat what lies ahead."
She blinked rapidly and took a steadying breath. "Everyone cover your faces."
Isandel moved back and urged Elery to follow. He stepped behind her again to ensure she would not stumble.
She bumped against his chest and scanned the crowd of enemies ahead. The crackle of delicate sparks of static clinging to their skin and armor shone like weak flashes of blue and white. She swathed them in her aura and fed those minute sparks which exploded within their armor. They grew, hungry for what she offered, demanding more of her than she was prepared to offer.
Feeding the flames was not like feeding seedlings. Even though they lacked the consciousness she herself possessed, she felt a certain warmth and gratitude from them.
From the fire she sensed gluttony and violent, insatiable greed. The flames would consume all that they touched, all that was given to them, without concern for others or even for itself. It sought to devour quickly, burning through fat and oils in the corpses' flesh. It seeped through skin into the very bones of their enemies. Fed by aura, the flames burned hotter, ravaged quicker, than any wildfire sparked by stray lightning bolts.
Preventing the spread of the flames to her allies was more difficult than stoking the flames she'd roused. The sparks on their flesh were as hungry as those on the corpses. Even a small, stray wisp of her aura could ignite them.
The repercussions, however, were immense. Just as the flames ate rapidly through their enemies, it likewise devoured her aura at a startling rate. Though she kept a tight rein on what she allowed through, as the fire grew it took more aura to maintain it.
The corpses shambled forward, pressing the attack even as the flames burned through muscle and tendon needed to move.
Elery's group took yet another step backward. Misani's energy within her sought to replace what was lost, but the drain became more than the input.
Enemies still able to move continued to push forward, ignorant to the pain of the licking flames, even as their skin melted and slumped from their body before turning to ash.
Elery loosened her control and brought the flames to such a heat it scorched her face. She recoiled, choking on the heat and foul stench.
Her consciousness flickered briefly. She groaned. The push was more than she should have allowed.
When her vision corrected she saw only the dead knights' armor remained. Scorched, yet free of any sign of their occupants. A few stray pieces of armor tumbled down the stairs as her allies pushed ahead, no doubt moving into place to prevent a second wave of enemies from the bridge.
There were fewer than she knew there should have been. "Did I kill any of them?" she murmured.
Isandel pressed his hand to her cheek. She looked back at him.
His moment of silence was enough.
"Be more cautious," he finally replied. "Large bursts may not kill you, but you could be rendered unconscious." He moved his hand from her cheek to her back to help her stand straight.
"I am not accustomed to spending it at all," she murmured as she moved forward. The loss left an emptiness inside her she could scarcely tolerate. Though it was diminishing as she moved, rather quickly in fact, the feeling itself was something akin to deep sadness. Is this how all casters feel? Cylphi? How can she stand this?
Perhaps this is not from the casting at all.
She tried to glance behind her, to see how many her cast had killed, but Isandel blocked her sight.
"Don't," he said gently.
The knights were midway between the stairway and bridge by the time she stood on the top stair. They faced down another wave of enemies with several lycar at the head.
Isandel grimaced and brushed past her. "Go to the other casters and wait. Do not leave until I come for you."
"I will not take orders—"
"Princess," he said firmly and rested his hand on her shoulder. "Trust me."
She calmed her pride and nodded before turning into the ascending staircase. Several paces up she struck a wall—brick and vines blocked the path, forming a barrier even sword could not easily break. She rested her hand against it, sensing the gentle flow of energy through the vines binding the stones together.
It was not the plant's energy; it was far too familiar. Let me pass, she thought as she let her aura spill forth.
As if sensing no evil intentions, the stones grew loose and the vines went slack. They pulled apart to make only enough room for her to pass.
She squeezed through the opening to run up the spiraling staircase to the casters above.
As she rounded the last turn she stopped and raised her hand. Taelin stood beside Zethir near the doorway, both with daggers ready. "We've quelled them for now," she said. "But I cannot promise we will be safe here long. It was a mistake to split."
"We discovered that some time before you, Princess," Taelin said. "While we spent time training you it might have been a good plan also to familiarize ourselves with our battlefield."
Elery nodded, "Yes, we should have. But that is past and now we must manage with what we have." She began to pace the dusty stone floor, a difficult task in the cramped space occupied by the dozen casters clustered there.
With two breaches and Loix's whereabouts unknown, she knew any plan was tenuous at best. She walked to one of the six narrow, arching windows and gazed past the bars to survey the area. Several large trees stood on each side of the river, each covered in thick, silvery vines. "We can break the bridge."
"What? Elery, the stone is laced with mystmetal, we could never—" Cylphi began.
"No," one of the Ildaugh casters interrupted. "The bridge was not made with the mystmetal weaving."
She called Misani from within her, speaking as she did. "We need familiars to gather the seeds from those vine pods. Scatter them upon the bridge."
Misani, as well as four others, formed beside their partners and flew outside. They dove toward the trees, Misani by far the largest of the group.
Elery watched, glad that Misani could slip through the wall with the others despite knowing she also had the power to become a tangible being.
Several corpses on the bridge turned their attention to the spirits but could do nothing to them. Instead they continued on, running toward the door. The bridge was far below them and the tower in which Elery and the others stood afforded a wide view of the ground below.
The swords and pole weapons of her comrades stabbed outward through the door and skewered the first few enemies that met the doorway.
"Water casters now, wet the bridge!" Even as she gave the order, she focused her aura on the water. The others had a limited supply, whereas hers could always regenerate. Not knowing how low they were already, she sought to put as little strain on them as she could.
"Fire casters," she said, struggling to keep her focus on the water now rising in thick bubbles from the river. "Take the door. If anything comes up, disable it immediately."
Two casters nodded and broke away from the window. They stood at the door with their familiars ready.
Large spheres of water crashed onto the bridge and washed masses of corpses over the side. The excess water seeped into the cracks and flowed over the side and the spirits cast their gatherings over the damp stone.
None needed further instruction. Those who knew geomancy casting came forward and focused on the patch of scattered seeds. The plants cried out for a chance to flourish. They sipped at the thin streams of aura projected by each caster without hesitation.
Cylphi was the first to let her aura surge, followed by Elery and the other three casters.
The vines reacted in a flurry of growth. Their roots squirming into the cracks to expand. They burrowed deep into the small fractures to reach the moisture soaked into the stone.
With the surge of aura feeding them, amplifying their growth beyond what was natural, the roots grew large enough to split the stone. The sounds of rock cracking and shifting filled the air.
The vines curled around the pathway. Several dead knights were ensnared. Their bodies contorted as the vines mercilessly squeezed.
No less than one hundred corpse knights rushed the section of the bridge only to have it fall away below their feet. The mess of rocks and bundled vines crumpled as the roots split the mortar holding the bridge together. The corpses grasped hold of the vines as they collapsed into the river with them. The weight of the stone bent the gate, filling the air with a loud, metallic groan. The further the gate slouched, the more pressure it placed on the rest of the bridge.
Then, in a spectacular cascade, the bridge ripped apart and fell to the river below with a loud, thundering crash.
"Oh no," one of the casters murmured.
More dragons flew from the west. They appeared first as large smudges against the evening sky. A silver dragon flew at the head, trailed by three smaller dragons.
Elery gripped the bars of the window, unable to shake the sensation that what she saw as a place of protection was truly a prison.
The dragons drew closer. The dying light cast red streaks across the silver scales of the lead dragon to immerse him in an illusory coating of blood.
Dragons stationed around the fort raised their heads and belted a collective roar as they opened their wings.
"They are never-ending," Cylphi whispered. She stumbled away from the window and crouched to wrap her arms around her knees.
The others were no different. They rested their backs against the wall with their hands over their faces. Some hugged themselves tight. Their celebration turned to despair. Hopelessness descended over the group, drowning each in silence.
Elery rested her forehead against one of the bars. Is this how it ends? Trapped in a cage, doomed to watch my allies die before I am taken? Has this been the outcome all this time? She gripped the bars, her fingers trembling, aching as they tightened until her knuckles grew pale.
The silver dragon drew closer. The others on the ground lifted, struggling to gain altitude to meet them.
She turned to look around and take in the condition of the other casters. Several were pale, their bodies shaking. Their aura was dangerously low. If any more was asked of them, they would surely perish.
Cylphi and the remainder appeared fine, though appearance could not be trusted. There was no way to tell how much longer any of them would last.
The silver dragon growled and Elery turned her attention back to the window. Two small corpse dragons flew up to meet it
Then opened their jaws wide to attack.
The silver beast raked his claws forward and slashed open the sides of their faces. Its head lunged forward to bite deep into the back of the smallest one's neck. It thrashed its head as its companions dove to attack other dragons as they tried to raise off the ground.
Elery's eyes widened. "What miracle is this?"
Cylphi rose from her crouched position. "Look!" she pointed. "Up the river!"
The others turned to the windows.
In the dim light cast by the dying sun Elery saw six fast-approaching ships .
The silver dragon ripped the head from his opponent's neck and let it drop, then turned to look into the tower with one large, green eye.
A caster nearest the door screamed and the group turned. A corpse knight pushed the caster woman off his sword and ran toward Elery, grasping her arm as several more flooded into the small space. His cold, stone-like fingers tightened as he pulled her toward the door while the casters struggled to fend off the others.
Zethir and Taelin, the only two with real weapons, cut down two before she lost sight of them.
Elery leaned away and lashed out, struggling uselessly. The casters behind her screamed and she stiffened. Her aura primed to release a fire cast.
"Princess!" Isandel called from lower in the stairs. Her sword pierced through the corpse's chest and scraped her armor. A thin slice etched into the chest plate. Violet energy released from the corpse and burst, taking with it the knight's unnatural life.
Elery pulled her hand from the still-tight grip of the dead seryn. "The casters!"
He rushed past her and she followed, each step bringing with it a new terrifying image of what she would see. A blast of heat from the room knocked her back and she screamed as a stray flame struck her cheek.
Isandel hesitated and glanced back. His gaze flickered from her to the top of the stairs.
"Go!" she shrieked.
He clenched his hand around the hilt of the sword and once again ran, leaving Elery to trudge and stumble behind him.
When she finally mounted the last stair, her breath caught in her chest.
Zethir and Taelin lay collapsed against the wall together, bloody but alive.
Of the Ildaugh casters, only one was left alive. He stood sobbing far from the scorched corpses that Isandel stood over.
Elery watched him stab the blade through their chest to release the foul energy, then looked around the small room for Cylphi. In a room so small, it should have been impossible to not see her.
The other casters lay collapsed near the center of the room, their blood pooling slowly.
Elery's chest tightened. She rushed to them and dropped to her knees to push the bodies aside.
Cylphi lay among them, her eyes wide and skin like fresh-fallen snow.
Elery screamed and pushed the bodies from atop her, panic swallowing all reason and pain. Her breathing came quicker, so quickly that her consciousness grew fuzzy. She rolled Cylphi over and her eyes brimmed over with tears.
"Cylphi!" Elery gasped so roughly it scratched her throat, adding to the new ache brought on by hyperventilation. "Speak! For the love of the land Cylphi, let me know you are well!"
"I-I did...didn't..." Cylphi stammered. Her pale lips trembled with each word. "I-I didn't know what to do so I collapsed, I...I fell upon the corpses and let them believe me dead." Her eyes turned slowly, aiming upward to meet Elery's gaze. They grew wider and her warm brown irises seemed miniscule in the sea of white around them. "I didn't know what else to do!" she screamed.
Elery pulled her close and hugged her as tightly as one arm would allow. She winced when Cylphi did the same. She watched from the corner of her eye as Zethir and Taelin picked themselves up.
Taelin's arm curled around Zethir when he stumbled. Zethir bore far more damage than his lover. Deep cuts peeked through his ripped clothing. His arm hung at his side, blood dripping from under his stained tunic down to his fingers. He turned his head and looked at Taelin, his features pinching as tears swelled in his eyes.
"All is well," Taelin whispered as he reached up to cup his cheek. "Maimed but living, thanks to you." He leaned close, kissing him softly. "No tears—there's no time."
Isandel knelt beside Elery. "We should move," he told her gently. "The others are fleeing to the lower level. We should do the same."
Elery swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to pull herself away from Cylphi. Her friend merely clung harder, sending spikes of pain through her shoulder. "C-Cylphi, you're hurting me!"
Isandel reached out and gripped Cylphi's chin. He turned her head to look at him. His pupils widened as her eyes fluttered. Her arms grew slack and fell away from Elery. Before she could collapse to the side he slid an arm under hers and stood. "She is in shock, Princess. One cannot blame her. I've sedated her for now in hopes to calm her down."
Elery watched as he shifted and pulled her onto his back to carry her. Her hair, always such a lovely shade of red, lay in matted clumps against her head. It stuck to her face with smudges of crimson marking her like war paint.
"Come, Princess," Isandel said again. "Gaidel cannot handle this enemy alone for much longer."