Page 13 of Court of Embers (Dragonesse #2)
Chapter
Seven
A s Rhylan blasted towards the marauding dragons, I thought we’d join the fight from the rear, attack in their blind spots.
I was wrong.
Kalros swerved, his head twisting around and rearing back as he inhaled—and with the broadening stretch of his chest, the gleam of his exposed rib cage, glistening ivory coated in a wet, gummy redness, exposed just how badly hurt he was.
Only hurt? Or rotting? I’d never seen such a thing before. He shouldn’t be flying. He shouldn’t even be alive in that state.
But it wasn’t just the exposed bones and organs that horrified me. One of the emerald dragons plunged towards him, glistening flames playing about his open jaws, but Kalros exhaled first.
And it wasn’t flames that spewed from his maw, but oozing darkness, slimy black gobbets spattering the emerald dragon across the face and neck.
With shocking speed, the Jade Leaf reared back, screaming. Earth-shattering screams, the flames in his throat dying out, wings flapping spastically.
My heart pounded in my chest as the green dragon turned, blindly fleeing Kalros, and I glimpsed what had become of him.
Everywhere the black ooze had touched, the dragon’s scales and flesh melted away—his eyes were gone, hollow sockets in their place, his jaw hanging crookedly as the tendons dissolved.
Smoke drifted from the melting flesh, giving off the same horrible acrid odor as the clouds around Sylvaene.
He twitched, limbs flailing uncontrollably, and finally fell.
Several of the Jade Leaves dragons went after him, leaving an open sky for Kalros and his dragons to return to.
Don’t, Rhylan , I said, tasting copper in the back of my throat. Don’t go near him . Gods, he dissolved. Like it was acid. That’s what the smoke in the eyrie was. How much damage have they done already?
We can’t leave them to face this alone. Rhylan’s mental voice was bleak.
Kalros let out a roar, harrying one of the few dragons left in the sky. He banked hard, and gobbets of flesh rained down to the forest far below, flaking away from his body.
The green dragons spat light, quick flames, zipping past with a deep care for Kalros’s acidic spit.
But little flames weren’t going to do anything against these strange foes; the Jade Leaves dragon might have been blinded, but if he’d just managed one intense burst of dragonfire…
a good sear could ruin those wings, and make quick work of Kalros on the ground.
I can do it, Sera.
Rhylan . I hated the whimper in my thoughts, but the idea of Rhylan’s face melting away, dissolving into clumped blood and bone jelly, made my empty, sour stomach hurt all over again.
We go for the wings. Bring them down and keep the sky.
There were five of them; Kalros and four smaller dragons.
All of them shedding bits of flesh as they flew, on wings that grew more tattered by the minute.
They weren’t going to last long enough for a sustained attack, but his spit more than made up for it.
He’d annihilated the green dragon in less than the blink of an eye.
I had no doubt that despite the fact that they didn’t seem like they’d last a day on those rotting wings, they’d still do significant damage to the dragons of Sylvaene Eyrie if left unchecked. And no matter how dangerous the enemy, nor how revolting, Tyria would never forgive us for hanging back.
Okay, we go for the wings . I settled myself firmly in the saddle, ignoring the nausea churning in my stomach. Try to come from above. Let gravity work for us.
I’d seen Rhylan shoot a jet of flame from fifty feet. Kalros wouldn’t be able to spit that heavy ooze so far above himself, and if he did try…maybe we’d get lucky and he’d manage to dissolve himself.
A draga could always hope.
Hang on tight, princess . Rhylan shot upwards, the muscles in his back as tight and hard as stone as he strained to gain momentum. There was a shimmer in the air around his horned head, flecks of white-hot darkness burning and dying out in comet trails.
As he blasted skyward, I gripped the reins tightly and turned to look back down. The green dragons seemed to understand Rhylan’s plan; they were harrying faster, darting in and out, spewing their own globes of jade fire and flitting out of the way.
Malik and Zaid were in the Training Grounds a year behind us , Rhylan said absently. They’re very light, quick fighters. Great for a distraction.
So long as Kalros is dumb enough to actually remain distracted , I thought. Not to be a pessimist, but I don’t think he survived Mistward Isle that long by being stupid.
Maybe not in his prime. But he’s falling apart, and he can’t be thinking clearly.
Rhylan, never underestimate a wounded enemy. That’s when they’re at their most dangerous.
I felt his concession, not grudging but respectful, and watched as one of the two—Malik or Zaid—tore past Kalros, aiming tongues of fire at his wings.
The jade flames seared his wings, illuminating the thin scarlet webbing and the black veins spidering the leathery flesh, searing the edges to a crisp.
Kalros tried to snap, but he was slow, his fangs crumbling; his best offense was that spit, and as he made a low, phlegmy sound, the Jade Leaves scattered, sleek and lightning-quick.
Kalros tracked one with his head, finally unleashing another black gobbet—it just missed the emerald dragon, plunging towards the forest.
But he is distracted , I added grudgingly. Let’s hope whatever it is he’s spitting up is rotting his brains, too, and that he’s not just waiting for a good opening.
Fifty feet , Rhylan said smugly, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
He could still spit fifty feet, let’s not get cocky.
What better time? Rhylan asked, reaching the apex of his climb. The air was thin, but so clean and clear after the terrible stench rising from Sylvaene.
I felt Rhylan’s excitement, a total counterpoint to my own anxiety. To me, it was potential— likely —death waiting below.
For him, it was a chance to take down an awful enemy, to prove himself better. He was humming with adrenaline, the crash of anticipation coursing through his veins.
We’ve got him , he assured me. He inhaled deeply, sparks flying between his fangs. In, out…in, out…with every breath, he stoked his internal flames higher. I felt the heat rising from the scales on his back, like riding a living furnace.
Let’s do this, then. I reached out and touched his back, letting the scales scorch my palms, and shifted my balance for a steep descent. The tension running through my limbs made them quiver, muscles tensing and tightening, and in a shimmer of barely-contained flames, Rhylan circled and plunged.
I saw all through his eyes, Kalros’s mottled red and black back far below, his wings glittering with green embers, the Jade Leaves darting in and out, blades flashing in their riders’ hands.
They all stood out like beacons against the verdant backdrop, brilliant colors and tones, even their faint scents painting exactly where they would be.
The heat boiled in our chests, flames scorching through my veins, and I unsheathed Aela, clutching her tight in a palm that was just barely dry as Rhylan rocketed down.
At the last second, the Jade Leaves darted out of the way, leaving Kalros and his dragons in the open.
The wind buffeted in my ears, almost drowning out Rhylan’s explosive roar, and the jet of infernal black flames that ripped from his maw.
The darkness shimmered, coiled, and twisted across Kalros, igniting his wings, scorching the translucent membrane to dust, catching one of his smaller cohorts in the blast.
Rhylan angled upwards again, hyperventilating once more to stoke his internal furnace. Whispers of flame trailed from his jaws, and his eyes were a brilliant, furious crimson as he turned on them once more.
This time, he took the smaller ones, tearing at them with his claws as he ripped through their midst. I caught a wing with Aela’s tip as we rocketed through, slicing right through the membrane and crippling the smaller blue dragon.
Kalros was already descending, spiraling out of control, spitting without precision.
The smoke rising from the forest was a haze, polluting the air around us, and I pulled the silk tighter over my face as Rhylan began a rapid descent, sweeping over and scoring gouges over their backs and wings.
The Jade Leaves joined us once more, harrowing the smaller dragons from above with balls of pale green fire.
Who was telling who not to get cocky? he asked, driving a smaller dragon down so hard I heard bones shatter as it collided with a tree.
Kalros reached out, desperately scoring the trunk of an ancient, gnarled tree that loomed above the others; he slowed his descent, clinging to it like a lizard, turning a strangely baleful stare on Rhylan, even without eyes.
A chill ran down my spine as those hollow sockets tracked us. Not yet, Rhylan. He senses us.
Kalros inhaled, his jaws dripping, but Rhylan turned so fast I would’ve been ripped off the saddle if I hadn’t expected the movement—he arched his neck, and snapped out a flat roar, driving a concentrated jet of black flame into the soft, tender underside of Kalros’s throat.
I half expected a scream of defiance, a last roar of rage before he died…
but Kalros simply exhaled. A long, rough sigh, as ooze dripped down his chest from his ruined throat, and his claws relaxed.
He released the trunk of the tree, slithering downwards, spilling off branches until he hit the forest floor with a thud.
Rhylan circled as I looked frantically around. All the smaller dragons had been driven to the ground, and the Jade Leaves surrounded them, cornering the lot and flaming them from the trees until they died.
He descended easily, flapping hard to slow our descent, until we landed on the soft ground at the base of the trees.