Chapter Eighteen

None of the wing commanders needed further clarification, which was a good sign, Det thought.

"We meet within the hour on the far side of this peak to make up our formations, then we fly in together. Leasharra and Loralie will be at the end of our line and will arrive last. We will make their way as clear as we can so they may face off with the mage. If anyone spots him, send word through the dragons. He is the mastermind and the one we most need to stop. That is Loralie's task, and we will support her in it."

Everyone agreed and the meeting broke up a few minutes later with back poundings and good wishes given in a brisk manner, in the way of warriors. Det was surprised to note that a few of the commanders even unbent enough to wish Loralie success in her mage battle before they left to join their heartmates.

Before long, he was alone again with Loralie, perhaps for the last time. Either one of them could be fatally injured in the battle to come, though he had high hopes that they would both prevail in their tasks. Still, it would not do to go into battle with things left unsaid. At least Det believed that. He went into the cave with Loralie to make sure he had everything he needed.

The pacas would be fine in the cave for a few more hours. If nobody lived to come back for them, they would be able to free themselves, and they were smart enough to find their way down the mountain to more hospitable climes for their kind. They would probably find a wild herd to join and be just fine. Loralie removed their harnesses and left water and grain for them to eat.

Det went to her when she was finishing with the beasts. He put his arms out and was gratified when she walked into his embrace. He held her close for a long moment.

"There's something I want to say," he began, but she tried to shush him.

"You don't need to say anything, Det. Everything that happened between us was my fault. My choices, good or bad, my decisions. My fault. I'm sorry for the pain I caused you and our children, and I am so grateful that you took them in and gave them a good home." She hiccupped a little, emotion clearly riding her.

"I could take no other course, Lora. I love them. Just as I once loved you. I want you to know that. There is still love between us, though of course, the past is also there. Between us. Perhaps, one day, if we both survive the coming trials, we can get past that and move forward together." He held his breath to see how she would react.

She rested her head against his heart. "I would like that," she whispered, tears in her voice. "I would like that a lot."

He was breaking her heart with his words. Didn't he realize she didn't have much longer in this world? Whether she died fighting Gebel or was trapped in ice when she set off the failsafe to stop Skir, she would be gone, either way. They would never have a chance at the future he was talking about, but it was lovely to hear him say it nonetheless.

Lovely and heartbreaking.

"You're such a good man," she whispered, loving the thump of his heart under her cheek. The undeniable evidence of his presence. "I would spend eternity with you if I had the chance. As it is…"

She drew back and rose on tiptoe to match her lips to his. She needed one last kiss to take into battle with her. One last kiss from the only man she would ever love. One last kiss so she could die with a smile on her face, if death was to be her prize this day.

When his arms would have tightened around her, she resisted and pulled away. She had tears streaking down her face, and she didn't want his last memory of her to be of tears. She grabbed her pack and almost ran out of the cave. Leasharra was waiting for her just out of sight, and she went straight to the dragon, mounting up as if she'd done it a million times.

In truth, this was the first time she'd been on a dragon's back. Lea helped guide her a bit, but seemed to realize that Lora was in a fragile emotional state and didn't say much until they were in the air.

Regaining her composure as she was faced with the novelty of being aloft on a dragon's back, Loralie put aside her conflicted emotions where Det was concerned and did her best to concentrate on the action ahead of her. First, she had to not fall off the dragon's back. They'd made it somewhat easier for her by equipping Leasharra with a harness and saddle unlike the much smaller versions she saw on the fighting dragons. This was probably for those, like Loralie, who were learning.

When Leasharra swung around to the back side of the peak, Loralie was stunned by the number of dragons gathered there. This wasn't just a small strike force. This was an army of dragons and their heartmates who were soldiers. She wondered if Det had called out the entire Guard corps for this task, or maybe the Scouts. She knew only a little of the way the enclave structured their forces, but she knew the younger pairs were in the Scouts until they proved themselves able to be part of the Guard. And Det led the Guard as their Captain.

He wouldn't leave his home unprotected, but she hadn't realized there were quite so many fighters available from within the enclave if they had enough to both guard their home and send this enormous number to fight here. She readjusted her estimate of the number of fair folk in the enclave upwards by a large margin. To have so many fighting pairs among them, they had to have a much larger population than she—or anyone, for that matter—realized.

Leasharra set down on the side of the mountain, and they waited for the army to settle into its ranks. Wings, they called them, because of the dragons. Each wing had a commander that answered ultimately to Det, and each wing commander had subordinates under him. They were arrayed around the back side of the mountain peak, and when the time came and they started launching into the air, they moved into their formations and flew out a ways until everyone was in their designated position. Leasharra took her place at the end of the formation as Det had planned, and the attack on the manor was launched.

Since Loralie and Leasharra were last to arrive at the manor, they didn't see much of the initial battle, but they saw the result of that hard, fast strike from above. There were groups of soldiers who had already surrendered under guard. Other small groups were still fighting, but it was pretty clear that the soldiers in the manor were no match for the dragons arrayed against them.

Leasharra dropped into the courtyard in a clear spot to one side of the massive front doors of the manor. Loralie slid down from Leasharra's back a bit ungracefully, but at least she didn't fall on her face. Regaining her balance once she was back on firm ground, Loralie turned her attention, and her magical senses, to where Gebel might be hiding.

She sent out tendrils of her magic, seeking…

Ah, yes. There he was. Hiding behind the door, like the coward he was. Well, he would hide no longer.

Loralie threw off her fur cape and strode forward, her arms unencumbered and already weaving elaborate magical glyphs in the air. First, she protected herself and those on her side, then she concentrated on drawing Gebel forth, out of hiding.

Her red dress shone in a shaft of sudden sunlight, powering her magic with its purity as she stopped several yards in front of the doorway, in plain sight. There, she paused, drawing on her power as she hadn't in far too long a time. It bucked and pranced in her hold like a fractious colt, ready and eager to do her bidding. Good. She had built up her magical energy for just this occasion.

"Gebel!" she shouted his name, adding a magical compulsion to draw him outside. She would rather do this under the full light of the noonday sun if she could, but she'd go inside after him if she couldn't draw him out. "Come meet your fate, you destroyer of lives, kidnapper of children, and defiler of dragons. Come out here and face me!"

She was livid with righteous anger but kept it under control as best she could. She'd dreamed of this confrontation for years.

"You dare!" Gebel, standing tall in his fancy robes, strode out of the doorway, a shield of magical protection forming a bubble of haze around his person. The cowardly chicken wouldn't face her without first girding himself in what protections he could muster. "You little tramp. I should have killed you years ago."

"As if you could," she spat back, gathering her power to her, forming missiles of magical energy in her hands. She would cast them at his sphere of protection and pop it like a soap bubble. "I think we both know who the more powerful mage is, and it isn't you."

"That's where you're wrong." Before she could launch her bubble-bursting energies, he lobbed a crushing blow of his own magic toward her.

Scrambling out of the way, she caught only a glancing blow that staggered her. Damn. He had gotten more powerful somehow. Probably using that forbidden knowledge Skir had been feeding him. As she had feared.

His attack had caused her carefully gathered energy to scatter, so she had to start over, forming the little magical bullets that should pierce his sphere of protection. Until that was gone, nothing she threw at him would make contact. The hazy veil had to go. Then, the real games would begin.

Detlif saw Loralie stagger and just barely stopped himself from rushing to her aid. The more mundane battle between Gebel's soldiers and Det's own troops was ongoing, though they had already captured quite a few prisoners. He had to focus on the battle with swords and spears. He had to win that one before he could do anything more to assist Loralie. If, indeed, a non-mage could do anything in the kind of battle in which she was now engaged.

"Steady on," Grennulf advised. "The mage battle is only just beginning. They may be at it for hours, according to some of the elder dragons who have seen such things before. We need to concentrate on the soldiers and prevent any from aiding their master."

"Right," Det agreed with his heartmate as he refocused his attention on the battlefield in front of him.

Most of the soldiers who had been caught away from the heart of the manor had surrendered and were under the watchful eye of a pair of dragons and their heartmates. This included all who were manning the walls and gate, and those who had been caught away from their weapons or commanders. They looked like hired mercenaries who had no allegiance to Gebel and wouldn't be fanatical enough to keep fighting when there was no hope of them prevailing.

The troops closer to their master were another matter. Quite a few were inside the manor house, and except for a few of the larger doors and passages, the dragons could not help with the fighting inside the walls. Though many had been lured outside to fight in the open, there were still quite a few of Gebel's men inside, firing arrows at the fair folk. Luckily, the arrows were not tipped with diamond, which was the only substance that could cut through dragon scales, so they had no effect on the dragons, only their riders.

Even as Gebel engaged with Loralie, Det could see that several soldiers—these in finer armor and clothing than the rabble on the wall—were sneaking out of the manor house behind their master, intent on harming Loralie. Just as Det saw arrows being nocked and aimed at her, a burst of flame sent the soldiers running, some of them with their clothing on fire.

Leasharra had seen to it, Det realized. She may be a young dragon, but she was no fool. She had promised to help Loralie, and the red dragon had just proven her worth. No other soldiers tried to sneak an arrow at Loralie after their fellows had been so badly burned. The dragon had just drawn a figurative line in the sand. Nobody would interfere with the mage duel going on between Loralie and Gebel, or they would have to answer to the red dragon.

"Good work, Lady Lea." Det couldn't resist sending her a word of praise. She was still a very young dragon, and he made it a point to cultivate confidence in all the younger warriors of the enclave, both dragon and fey.

"Thank you, Captain," Leasharra answered, excitement and worry warring in her tone.

Detlif realized the red dragon wasn't nearly as cool and composed as she looked. This was likely her first real experience of battle. Just as it was the first real experience of a mage duel for most of the others present. Only the oldest of dragons had ever seen anything like what was happening now between Loralie and Gebel. It was important that nobody got too distracted by it be they on two legs or four.

"You keep watch over Loralie, and we will handle the rest," he reaffirmed Leasharra's part in the overall plan.

"Yes, Captain," the red dragon answered in a firmer voice as Loralie launched some sort of invisible attack on Gebel that made him stagger and fall back a few paces.

Detlif turned back to the rest of the action. His role here was to make sure their forces were deployed in the best possible arrangement. He had to see the overall battle and order adjustments where needed. He would also engage the enemy where he was needed until others could be brought in to shore up the lines. Even as he refocused his attention, he saw a weak point and a young Guard who was in danger of falling victim to an ambush.

"Gren, tell Falloran to watch his left flank and ask fourth wing to come assist," Det asked his heartmate as they both ran over to help the younger pair until more help could arrive.

"Done and done," Gren reported a moment later as they both engaged with the enemy who had tried to outflank the younger team. "Falloran sends his thanks. He didn't see the ambush, nor did his heartmate."

"They are young. Luckily, they will survive to learn from this," Det observed philosophically even as he clashed swords with one of Gebel's men.