"Aye," Jacq confirmed. "We must prepare for war. Ring the alarm, have them bring the women and children to the tower, secure the walls. All mages must take their stations and defend Imperia."
"We can take them," Willow said, the hiss of anticipation bursting out of her throat.
"Do you sense how many?" he watched her.
Willow suspected he guessed that her power was growing stronger than his. Closing her eyes, Willow listened again. "No, it is masked, somehow."
Jacq nodded but did not show any emotion. "It is likely that those we sent to the kingdom of the fae are walking into a trap. We need them to return, but perhaps it will be too late for them."
"And no sign of the celestials," Willow finished, disappointment lacing her voice.
She'd thought they would have arrived by now, streaking out of the sky like bright comets, come to save the world from doom. But perhaps they had changed their minds, and the world was past saving. Perhaps they determined to leave the world to its doom.
"Time is of the essence," Jacq lifted his hands. "Ring the bells."
Willow left the sanctum, calling out orders as she went. Within minutes, the tower was a buzz of activity. She ran, peering out to the battlements where the mages took their positions. She went down into the infirmary where the healers prepared, and finally to the bottom level, where the woman and children without magic gathered. There were a few men, elders who joined the women and children. They had food, water, and blankets, enough to last for months if they rationed carefully. Willow praised the Divine that the tower had everything they needed, even if she'd never thought a long siege would happen.
Trumpets sounded and the thump of marching feet dispersed the air. She watched it settle and the scent of ink and scrolls was lost as various kinds of magic swirled through the tower. Tense and ready to be used. Willow picked up her feet and fled toward the wizard's sanctum once again. When she reached it she stilled before she opened the doors and froze on the landing. She had to know.
Stilling her mind, she closed her eyes and called out to her hawk, Kel, who shared her mind. The bird was already whirling around the tower and it flew higher at her request, and then toward the mountains where mist covered the marching army. Clouds blew past her, but her feathers were warm and steady. She blinked, beady black eyes, watching. The vineyards were quiet, the farmland untilled, waiting for the icy breath of winter to blow itself out before the spring planting began. She flew beyond that, to the meadow where the baby dragon had flown as it grew, chasing down deer and goats as it hunted, its hunger endless.
The mountains split, opening into a hidden valley, and that's where they marched, an unending river led by none other than the king of the fae. A crown shimmered on his head, the blue magic luring her closer. She swooped, wondering if it would be easy enough to dip down, to use the element of surprise to snatch the crown off the king's head and fly back to the tower with it. A risky thought though, and instead of acting upon it, she studied the army, quickly realizing it wasn't just fae. Among the flag bearers and half beasts with chains and mail and sword and steel were other creatures, with marks on their helms. A shiver of repulsion went through her. Orcs. Distaste thick in her mouth, she flew higher, and as she did, one white feather broke free. It swooped down, eased by the wind as it drifted here and there. It landed on the arm of the fae king. He looked at it, pausing his mount while he picked it up. Sniffing, he let it go free, and his gaze turned skyward.
Kel wheeled in the air, rising higher, but a flicker just above showed off a shadow that seemed as big as a mountain peak. A musky scent filled the air and then the sound of wings in the breeze. Kel flew faster, using the wind to dart through the air, but the dark shadow above was faster, bigger. It flew in a direct line and nowhere Kel flew was fast enough to escape it.
Willow almost pulled back, terror constricting her heart, but she had to look, had to know for certain who their enemy was. With a cry, she spun just as the mist cleared. Above her flew a monster, with a tough obsidian hide, scales glittering in the low light. Wings beat against the air as though it were nothing, and the length of that lizard-like body stretched away beyond what could be seen.
Kel dived, but the dragon was faster. Lidded eyes opened and pounced. Teeth sank into flesh and feathers. There was a snap and then Willow felt a searing pain, as though someone had snapped her bones in half. A scream ripped out of her mouth and the connection snapped. "Kel!" She shouted, her body trembling as she spun, wild-eyed. But the connection was gone, she was herself again and Kel had been eaten. Anger, grief, and fear moved through her in waves. She burst through the doors of the sanctum, almost hurling herself into Jacq's arms.
"She's here," she moaned. "The Dragon Queen of old is here."
17
Orc Army
“Hurry into the castle,” Ingram rasped, waving frantically toward the doors.
Maeve paused, unsure what he intended, and then saw why. The army of orcs marched into the glade, and although two lines of them surrounded the castle, another came, weaving through mist and shadow as though they waited only for the opportune moment. As Ingram, Imer, and the others rushed toward the castle steps, Maeve moved into the hall. There was only a short entryway and then a wall of stone. She crept around it, waiting for something, anything to jump out at her from the other side, but nothing did. When she reached the other side of the wall, arched windows let in translucent light and she saw a set of stairs, curving up into what she imagined was the heart of the castle. Halls branched off from the initial court room, too many to count. Were they alone in the castle? Or had the fae left them a nasty surprise.
“Close the doors!” came a cry, and then a shadow of darkness came along with the sharp thump of the castle gates shutting. Maeve wondered how long they would hold, although she could see no way to defend them. Perhaps if they stood at either corner of the walls while the orcs burst through, they could stem the tide and fight on their own terms. But there wasn’t a way to hurl fire from the castle and slay them all. Briefly, Maeve’s thoughts flickered back to the Draconbane Mountains and the goblins. Ingram, Imer, and Sandrine had defeated the horde, although she was unsure what part Sandrine had played. The Scholar had always held her power closely, never sharing what hidden benefits she might possess. But now Maeve wondered. Was it only fire?
“We have moments to prepare,” Ingram said as they gathered in a circle.
Imer stood with his feet apart, studying the court room. His eyes flickered to the passageways. “Are we alone?”
“I haven’t seen anyone.” Maeve shrugged.
“Listen,” the female elf, Faelyn, said. She stood a few inches taller than Maeve, her silky hair pulled back in a long braid. Her hair was almost whitish with a dark yellow tint to it. The color of wild daisies in a field. She wore a helmet and carried a thick spear, carved with designs and a pointed tip at the end. Her pale face was almost bloodless as she spoke. “We need to go above and find a way to stop them that way. It’s likely the dark fae left something here. Anything we can find and use to barricade the doors or throw at the orcs will be effective.”
“I’ll go with you,” Ingram offered. For an instant, flames rose from his fingers, then faded.