The Spectral Blaze

“Gaedy

The world exploded into senselessness. When her shattered thoughts came partly back together, her head was ringing, her mouth tasted of blood, and she had her back against the wall. She realized that the dragon had lashed her across the jaw with the back of his hand, his arm whipping so fast that she hadn’t had time to react.

“I told you not to mention that again!” Tchazzar snarled. “I’m a god! I was never a prisoner, never bound in the dark, and never needed any mortal’s help! It’s blasphemy to say otherwise! And blasphemy’s the foulest treason of all!”

“Forgive me, Majesty,” Jhesrhi said. “I… don’t know why I said it. Some devil must have prompted me. Because I love and worship you and will do whatever I have to to prove it. Even kill my friend if that’s what you require.”

“I do.”

“Then I’ll get my staff.”

As before, she thought he might stop her, but he didn’t. Probably he rightly assumed he had little to fear from the instrument. He was largely impervious to the fire that had become her greatest weapon, and no other single spell in her arsenal was likely to hit him so hard that he’d be unable to retaliate.

It was late. But the corridors of the War College were seldom entirely deserted, and startled sentries and servants hastily saluted or bowed to their ruler, then no doubt eyed him and his companion curiously once they passed by. Jhesrhi’s nightclothes and bare feet probably made them think Tchazzar had whisked her out of her bed for some madcap escapade or tryst. Which, in a ghastly way, wasn’t far from the truth.

Tchazzar stopped in front of one carved, brassbound door in a row of them. He removed a silver key from the inside of his doublet, slid it into the keyhole, and twisted it. The lock yielded with a tiny click. He smirked, laid his finger across his lips, swung open the door, and ushered Jhesrhi into the dark room beyond.

At which point, she felt a pang of hope because Gaedy

“See?” Tchazzar whispered, a hint of laughter in his tone. “He doesn’t care anything about you. So this shouldn’t be so difficult after all.”

“No.” Jhesrhi raised her staff, told it to be still when it begged for fire, and spoke to the wind instead.

Conjuring an actual gale wasn’t easy in a massive, enclosed structure such as the War College. But, like every wizard who’d ever cast a spell successfully, she made herself believe the magic would answer and it did. The air screamed, snatched her off her feet, and hurled her forward. Tchazzar grabbed for her, but at that moment, he was the one who was too slow.

Ahead of her, the wind rocked the bed and ripped Gaedy

An instant later, she, too, shot through to see that she and the others had burst out of the east face of the War College, on the opposite side from most of Luthcheq. Only a few scattered buildings bumped up from the ground below.

Jhesrhi spoke to the wind once more and felt it respond with a hint of reluctance. Flinging people around like a cat batting a ball suited it better than carrying them in a more precise and less violent ma

And not a moment too soon. Flame blazed through the broken window but passed beneath them. Above, on the battlements atop the enormous sandstone edifice, a sentry cried out.

Certain Tchazzar would try again to burn them, Jhesrhi told the wind to bring her close to the wall and drew those she was carrying close to it also. That should give the dragon a difficult angle.

Although evidently not an impossible one, for a second streak of fiery breath shot up between Gaedy

Then, Jhesrhi judged, she could finally pause to catch her breath and think. The guards below looked astonished, not aggressive, although that could change at any moment. She made Gaedy

To her relief, it didn’t appear that the window glass had cut him. Using his fingers to comb his tousled hair, he gri

“Shut up!” she snapped. “The plan’s come apart! Tchazzar wants us all dead!”

“I guessed that, actually. The gist, if not all the details. And I assume Aoth and Cera are still inside the fortress.”

“Yes. Do you know what quarters they were given?”

“Even if I did, I doubt I could spot it from the outside.”

“We can’t just leave them to be killed in their sleep.”

“No, but we can’t go back in and look for them either. That would only get us killed. You have to warn them from out here.”

“All right.” Growling harsh, percussive words derived from one of the languages of Elemental Chaos, she gripped her staff with both hands and jabbed it downward in time with the steady beat of the incantation.

Her power jolted the structure beneath her. The shocks made the sentries stumble back and forth.

When she finished, Gaedy

“I’m not done,” she answered. She spun her staff over her head. The pseudo-mind inside cried out in joy when she willed the ends of the rod to burst into flame.

Fireballs shot from the ends of the staff and, arcing, fell down the four faces of the War College. Presumably the light they shed shined through all the windows.

Panting, she lowered the staff and willed out the fires at the ends. “That’s all I know to do.”

“Then it will have to be enough. Especially since the fellows below are finally readying their crossbows. We need to reach the Brotherhood.”

“I know.” She spoke to the wind, and it swept them onward.

Jet prowled the muddy field where his fellow griffons lay sleeping. Still not quite recovered from the race back to Chessenta, he wished he could join them in their slumber. But a nagging uneasiness was keeping him awake.

He turned east and reached across the city with his thoughts. Are you there? Is everything all right?

But all that he sensed in response was a jumbled blur of a mind that sluggishly shifted away from his psychic touch. Aoth, too, was asleep. Happy that he’d outmaneuvered Tchazzar, he’d likely eaten too much, drunk too much, and spent himself mating with his female.

Idiot, Jet thought, although not without a certain amount of envy. Don’t drop your guard while you’re still in a dragon’s lair.

And at that moment, fire erupted from a point above the War College. The blazing orbs arced outward and spilled down the sides of the fortress like spray from a fountain.

Jet didn’t know exactly what that meant, but he very much doubted it was good. Are you awake now? he called.

No. Aoth wasn’t. Although it was possible that his sleep wasn’t quite as deep as before.

Jet trotted, unfurled his wings, lashed them, and rose into the air. “Danger!” he screeched. “Danger!” Then he drove on toward the War College.

Wake up! he cried, tearing at the barrier of Aoth’s unconsciousness as he would rend a foe with his talons. Wake up, wake up, wake up!