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I began to sing.
Bataar’s song for the dead spilled from my lips like pearls from a velvet bag.
Rest, weary one,
The sun, the sun
Is rising.
In this new life,
The pain has flown, away.
I shoved them back in waves, stopping them a dozen here, a dozen there while the song lifted the souls of each one I stopped, drifting them up to the World of Legends.
Rest child of earth,
And let your soul,
Fly heavenward,
No tear to mar the eye,
Or pain the heart again.
From the corner of my eye, I saw our wing landing around us, forming defensive positions around Saboraak, their own wings torn and bleeding. Hyoongan had a bite mark in his neck. Tachril had lost the tip of his tail.
Until one day,
When we, our hearts united,
Stand under sun,
We’ve never seen before.
I shoved them back relentlessly, singing, singing. There was shouting behind me. These days, there always seemed to be shouting.
“Except this time, it’s for a reason,” the mimic said.
Until one day,
When hope has shown her merit,
And all will rest in faith
and warm to brand new life.
I continued to turn, slowly, pushing, pushing. Whatever they were yelling about would reveal itself in time. Until then, I had thousands of golems to stop. The hundred or so I’d managed so far barely seemed to make a dent as I piled them up around me.
At the next turn, I saw what the commotion was.
“I wondered when she’d come out to party,” the mimic said.
Ambrosia was striding toward us, the golems clearing a path for her as she walked, hands held out on either side, blazing with magical fire.
The dragons tightened around us, protective.
Saboaraak? Can you ask them to move back? I think this is between me and Ambrosia. I think I have to fight her.
Why? That’s just stupid. Let us stand with you!
Hyoogan flamed at Ambrosia, blocking her way. She flicked a wrist and he tumbled aside as if blown over by a massive wind. Janes rolled with him, keeping his seat – but barely.
If I stood and fought her, then the other Magikas would see what they were up against. Maybe it would shake them enough to pin them here while the armies of the Dominar were rushing to reinforce Questan. Maybe, it would buy everyone a little more time to survive.
Or maybe she’ll kill you!
And then, like she was being called, Saboraak’s head whipped to the side.
What? What did she see?
Zyla! She made it back! She’s here!
But she would be alone out there, surrounded by enemies and vulnerable. Saboraak shifted back and forth like she was being pulled in two directions.
Go! I insisted. Go and get her!
But you...
I’ll be fine. Take everyone with you. You need them all!
Tor – she sounded agonized, like it was hurting her to leave me. I knew the feeling.
Please, Saboraak! Please help her. Please take your friends to go and get her. I’ll keep the army distracted. I’ll make sure the attention is on me so you can swoop back there and get her. Most of the army is concentrated over here, anyway.
That’s not what I’m worried about.
Ambrosia was almost level with the hill of fallen golems I was standing on.
“Let’s see how long you can pull those little stunts when you face a real Magika,” she said, a troublingly warm grin on her innocent face.
I’m worried that she will kill you, or the golems will. I’m worried that you won’t have anyone to protect you.
Please, Saboraak. Zyla is in that position right now and she has nothing but that little bit of magic I gave her.
With a sound that was more like a cry of frustration than anything else, Saboraak spread her wings behind me, throwing shadows over me as she lifted up into the sky. Around us, the other dragons joined her, lifting up into the grey clouds above us.
The weather, like my mood, was grim.
“Yes, that’s right,” Ambrosia said. “Just you and me and our shadows.”
Her shadow pulled away from her, stepping out to stand on her own, her mimic hair gleaming despite the cloudy day.
Uh oh.
“And your grandmother, I guess,” Ambrosia said with a tinkling laugh.
I looked behind me, surprised to see Gran there. Hadn’t she flown off with Saboraak? Stef must have. She was not beside Gran.
“Stay back,” I warned Gran, easing my way over fallen golems to pull away from her. Ambrosia would be aiming her attacks at me. No need to get Gran killed while I played this gamble.
Because I knew it was a gamble to face a powerful Magika like Ambrosia one on one. And I knew it could get me killed. I was just hoping that Gran was right about the pendant and that it really would nudge the lines of the future in my favor. I could see the pattern weaving all around me. And if it didn’t weave in my favor, there was no way I was going to survive this.