“They have crossed Ssoto Wassindu,” said Wizard Dillansheets, reading the magic message from Hittakus. “The Sisterhood of Pain is in the lead. They should reach the woods within the hour.”
“Good,” said Augie. “Tell them to stay in their positions until after the… um, after the thunder.”
Turning, he looked back at the crews who were awaiting his command.
“Prepare to fire!”
The crews removed the coverings from twelve BC-12 Mark I Eight-Inch Howitzers. Working quickly and efficiently, they opened the breeches and filled them with large shells from the stockpile next to each weapon.
“I wish we had more ammunition,” said Colonel Mortimer.
“We’ll just have to make the best of what we have.”
“Yes. I’m heading up to the line.”
Augie nodded, but was still looking back at the line of artillery.
“Battery one! Fire!”
The weapon belched out its message of death.
“Reload!”
Then he waited.
After almost a minute, Wizard Dillansheets shouted, “Right on target, sir!”
“All batteries, continuous fire!”
The reverberations from the weapons truly did rival thunder, but it was nothing compared to the annihilation that was rained down upon the warriors and priestesses of Xiatooq. It continued unabated for almost fifteen minutes.
Suddenly, a massive form swooped down from the sky, right over the line of artillery. As it turned, it became obvious that it was a dragon, its scales reflected deep sapphire blue in the sunlight. It swooped down in the opposite direction, this time releasing a huge stream of flame down upon the humans and their tools of war.
Men screamed as their clothing, hair, and flesh began to burn. As Augie watched, a few of the support personnel managed get away, but most of the gun crews were killed. He rushed to the side of a man struggling to extinguish the fire on his legs. Augie rolled the screaming man over until the fire was out. Grabbing the man by the shoulders, he pulled him what he thought was a safe distance from the gun. Then, he ran back and pulled another to safety. He was rescuing his third man, when he found himself flying through the air. The remaining stock of ammunition had gone off. He landed on his back; the air knocked out of his lungs. He thought it was he that was now on fire, but he didn’t seem able to do anything about it.
“Don’t worry, sir,” said a soldier looking down as he smothered the flames with his hands. “It’s not too bad.”
Augie smiled.
“At least we got off most of our ammunition before she hit us,” he thought.
As he passed into unconsciousness, he thought he saw half a dozen monstrous shapes pass overhead.
* * * * *
Iolanthe Dechantagne Staff watched through the large windows from the office on the top floor of the Gurrman building as four dragons swooped down toward the city—her city. One was obviously Voindrazius. He was almost inconceivable large, his dull red scales sucking up the sunlight rather than reflecting it. He turned off toward the west. One didn’t need to guess where he was going. The second largest one, half Voindrazius’s size was black. Its wings were tattered, and it looked rotten and diseased. It peeled off in the opposite direction. The others were smaller, Zoantheria’s size, or a bit smaller still. One dragon sapphire blue, and the other deep purple, they began strafing the city with their flames, setting entire neighborhoods on fire.
From many places around town, magical fireballs shot up, hitting the dragons, but seeming to do little or no damage. The great reptilian creatures hardly even noticed them.
Iolanthe didn’t even see the fifth dragon until she suddenly realized it was flying right at her. It was tiny, no larger than a pony, and was a sparkly pale blue that was almost impossible to describe. Moonstone, she suddenly realized. She could feel its eyes on her as it flew directly toward her.
The glass window exploded. The moonstone dragon had hit it at the exact moment that another dragon had crashed into it from above. Intertwined, they went crashing down the front of the building. Iolanthe pulled several long shards of glass from her arms. Ignoring the blood that rushed from the wounds, she hurried back to the window and looked down to see the two dragons locked in a death match. The moonstone dragon was clawing and tearing, but the other dragon, an emerald green one, had shredded its wing to almost nothing and now had hold of its throat.
Mrs. Wardlaw was suddenly at Iolanthe’s side fussing over her injuries, but the governor paid no attention, her eyes fixed on the death struggle below.
* * * * *
“My God!” said Ascan, as he looked out the front window at the massive black dragon sailing across the sky. “How can something like that even exist.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Iolana. “It’s Setemenothis. It has to be.”
“What’s that?”
“Setemenothis is the lizzie god of death, but he’s supposed to have died hundreds of years ago. He must have been sleeping.”
“Or maybe he was dead,” said Ascan. “He looks like a corpse of a dragon.”
The whole world outside turned brilliantly yellow as the enormous creature breathed out fire, spraying destruction over the neighborhood.
“Get Hans into the cellar,” Iolana ordered.
“You too.”
“Yes, I’m coming.”
But Iolana didn’t follow. She continued to stare. She was watching as a steel colored meteor shot down from the sky and hit the black dragon in its spine. The shockwave broke every window in the house, including the one she was looking through. She was knocked back but landed on the sofa.
Jumping back up, she ran to the front door and opened it. She could see the two dragons fighting down the street, near the shrine. Without thinking, she went running toward them.
As Bessemer, the steel dragon, fought the black dragon of death, it was hard for Iolana not to see him as some kind of metaphor for all the good in the world. Though huge, he was only about two thirds the size of his opponent. Spraying fire at each other, the two large forms were soon engulfed in massive flames. They didn’t stop to notice. They clawed and bit at one another, as their tails whipped back and forth striking with the spear like barbs at the end.
Iolana stopped in her tracks, suddenly aware that she was as close to the flames as she could stand and far closer than was actually safe. As mammoth fountain of flames shot from the black dragon’s mouth right toward her. She felt a hand grab her by the arm and pull her out of the street. She ran along with whomever held her until they ducked behind a garden wall.
“What in Kafira’s name are you doing?”
Iolana looked blankly at Sherree McCoort.
“I… I don’t know.”
Huddling behind the wall, they could hear roaring and crashing just on the other side. After a few minutes, Iolana felt her wits coming back to her.
“What are you even doing in this part of town, Sherree?”
“I was visiting Ernst, when the whistle sounded. I was trying to get back home, but everywhere I turned, there was a fire-breathing dragon. Then I saw you standing in the street.”
“I was out of my head.”
“You’ve got glass in your face,” said Sherree. “Let me get it.”
She pulled four needle-like shards of window from Iolana’s face, which began to bleed.
“They’re not bad.”
A particularly loud roar was followed by a tremendous crash. Then the noises stopped. As one, the two women raised their heads until they could peek over the wall. The black dragon lay on its back among the collapsed southern part of the Zaeri shrine. The steel dragon stood over him, his fangs imbedded in Setemenothis’s throat, not moving except to occasionally shake the other dragon, as if to confirm its death.
Iolana ran around the section of wall, Sherree following. They hurried toward the two dragons, but before they had made it halfway, Bessemer dropped his enemy’s head and shot off into the air.
* * * * *
When the warning whistle had sounded, Baxter had been on the far side of town, but he had hurried home. By the time he reached Ghiosa Way, much of the city was in flames, and one could see dragons circling, as they rained down annihilation. Hurrying in the front door, he called out for Bryony.
“In the bathroom!” came the reply.
Rushing down the hallway, he ran into the room to find his wife and their two small children sitting in the otherwise empty bathtub. Bryony looked pale, and Addy was crying, but Kerry just looked confused.
“Where is Sen?” he asked.
“She just took off when we heard the alarm. I tried to stop her, but she just left.”
“Bloody hell,” he growled. “You stay here. Senta says this house is safe. We’ll take her at her word. I’ve got to go find Sen.”
Leaving the house, he ran to the end of the block, only to realize that, even if it was still running, the trolley was not going to be adequate transportation in this instance. Then, across the street he saw a kosmoceratops. It was saddled and bridled, but its owner was nowhere to be seen. It must have broken away with all the confusion going on. Chasing down the frightened dinosaur, he grabbed its lead and tried to sooth it by talking in low tones. The beast seemed to settle down, so he tapped its knee with the toe of his shoe, and it knelt down for him to mount. Soon, they were off at a run toward the center of town.
Great black clouds were rising in the north, and one could see flames engulfing the distant trees. Looking back to the west, Baxter watched as a brilliant blue dragon shoot south. It was smaller than some of the others, certainly smaller than Bessemer or Zoey. It began circling near where Radley Staff Memorial Park was located. He turned his mount and raced in that direction, guided along by some unseen force.
As he approached the park, he could see the sapphire dragon circling, shooting down blasts of flames. He could also see return fire. Rather than the long blasts of the dragon though, these were round balls of flame. He knew what he would find before he got there. Sen was in the park, using her magic against the dragon. He could hear the dragon’s voice, like a shrill woman magically amplified, but couldn’t hear what the girl might be saying.
Suddenly, a lorry appeared in the air right above the dragon. Dropping, it sent the blue beast crashing into the ground. It was on its feet in a moment, screaming. It picked up the lorry, threw it at the girl.
Baxter’s kosmoceratops turn and went running away from the dragon. He tried to turn it around, but the creature was having none of it. He was forced to slip his leg over its back and drop to the ground. His ankle bent wildly to the side as he hit the dirt.
* * * * *
Sen had already hit Xenarra, the sapphire dragon, with several fireballs. They did very little damage, but at least they kept her from attacking the nearby people and buildings. But there had to be something. Then Sen spied a broken-down lorry beside the road.
“Move the car, leave the crash,” she said to herself. “Sieor uuthanum sembia eetarri tortestos err!”
The now unbroken vehicle appeared in the air above the dragon. It hit her and knocked her to the ground. The enraged creature let out a fiery breath that ignited nearby redwood trees. Jumping to her feet, Xenarra grabbed the lorry and threw it toward the girl.
Sen had no time to get out of the way. She dropped to the ground and with a bounce, the vehicle went right over her. Remarkably, only her left arm was crushed, but it was mangled almost beyond recognition. She staggered back to her feet.
“Something heavier then,” she said. “Uastium premba uuthanum tachthna paj tortestos—sieor!”
As she spoke the last syllable, a pain like nothing she had ever felt before shot through her head. She screamed and collapsed to the ground, holding onto her head, blood pouring from her ears and nose.
“Kafira’s twat!” she gasped.
Suddenly Sen found herself engulfed in someone’s arms. She looked up to see the face of her father, her biological father, Saba Colbshallow.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
Then they were engulfed in flames.
* * * * *
Baxter ran back to the park. From across the road, he could see Sen climb back to her feet. He could also see that her left arm was hanging limply at her side and was bleeding copiously. Then she screamed and collapsed, just as the 203-foot-tall Victory Obelisk materialized upside down in the air above the dragon. It fell like a giant spike, right through the sapphire dragon’s spine, pinning it to the ground and almost completely severing its top half from its bottom.
Baxter tried to run to his adopted daughter, but his leg was slowing him down. Twice he fell and climbed back up. Then he saw a man running toward her. He recognized him, of course. Saba reached Sen just as Xenarra took a last breath and let out a last flame. It engulfed the two people huddled together. It ignited the remains of the lorry. The ground and even the air caught on fire. Then the beast collapsed, dead.
“Sen!” shouted Baxter as he continued toward the spot where she had been. Through the smoke and the tears, he tried to find her, but the intense heat kept him away.
Then the ground jumped, knocking him down and disorienting him. He looked up to see another dragon, this one twice the size of Xenarra, its scales reflecting a purple glint in the sunlight.
“A tasty treat, all for me,” said the dragon, in a woman’s deep, sultry voice. A great clawed hand reached out and picked up Baxter by the foot, lifting him high into the air.
“Yum,” it said.
“Hands off, bitch!”
There was a huge crash and Baxter went flying. He hit the ground, and everything went black. When he came to, he realized that he had only been unconscious for a few minutes.
Two dragons were fighting not fifty feet away—the dragon with the purple scales and a slightly smaller one with scales of coral peach. The ground bounced with the blows they landed on each other and all around, trees had become torches as they breathed their fire. The ground around Baxter was littered with dragon scales, large and small, and he could see that both creatures had large sections of their chests and necks that had been denuded of their protections.
“Zoantheria, you’re fighting on the wrong side!” growled the amethyst dragon.
“You’re the one on the wrong side!” the coral dragon replied, and then tried to bite into the other’s neck.
With a whomp that made the ground jump again, another dragon landed next to the two. They both stopped and turned to him. It was Bessemer, but he was almost unrecognizable, his front half dripping in dark viscous blood.
“Go now,” he told the amethyst dragon, “and we’ll let you live.”
She paused only a second, before leaping high into the air and flying away.
* * * * *
The great red dragon Voindrazius soared above the city. Countless magical fireballs, shooting up from locations all over, hit him. He could barely feel them. They were less than insect bites to him. Occasionally, he breathed his flames down onto one of the larger buildings, but it was half-hearted. He was saving his power for the sorceress.
Just beyond the western edge of this place the humans called Port Dechantagne, he found her house. She was standing on the front lawn, waiting for him. He dropped down, his immense body dwarfing everything around. Lifting his head, he looked down at her. He was just close enough that he could reach down and eat her when the time was right.
“Took you long enough,” she said.
“Everything is on my time schedule,” he replied, “and it’s time for this to be over.”
Taking a deep breath, he launched his flame directly down on her. It engulfed the sorceress and blasted everything behind her, setting her house on fire. Then he stopped. She was still standing there, looking smug. But Voindrazius could see that her shield had not been perfect. She had burns on her skin and her hair was smoking.
“How many of my magical missiles do you suppose hit you on the way over here?” Senta asked.
“Hundreds. I barely felt them.”
“They weren’t supposed to hurt you,” she continued. “They were just to paint you with magic, to enhance what I’m going to do to you now.”
“Nothing you can do will hurt me.”
“Let’s just see,” she said.
While he took another deep breath, he could hear her incantation, “Uuathanum eetarri uuthanum blechtore maiius uusteros vadia jonai corakathum nit!”
He stopped mid-breath, amazed, as the body of the sorceress transformed into a blob of liquid light. Suddenly a bolt of that same light energy shot out from her and hit him in the chest. The whole world disappeared.
* * * * *
Iolanthe stepped out the front door of the Gurrman Building. An area roughly thirty feet across was smeared with dark blood. The moonstone dragon had fled, but the emerald dragon lay on the ground, exhausted.
A crowd was gathering around and they were angry, but they grew quiet when the governor arrived. Fearlessly, she stepped up to the bloody dragon. He was a beautiful creature, scarcely bigger than a police lorry.
“I’m Governor Staff,” she said.
“I am Urie,” he replied, his voice sounding like a young man.
“You fought on our side. Didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
She turned to the crowd, most of whom she recognized as working in the offices of colonial government.
“Bring healing ointments!” she told them.
Half a dozen of them hurried off.
“Is there anything else you need?” she asked the dragon.
“Well, I know it’s not the best time of year to ask, but would you have any fruit?
* * * * *
Karl Watson had not taken his lover’s advice to go to a pub during the dragon attack. He instead watched her from a third-floor window.
She had seemed very calm as she poured out a bag of salt, making a design on the grass. Then she had just stood and waited. It hadn’t been long before the dragon had arrived. The thing was so big that it seemed impossible that it could stand up, let alone fly.
From his perch, he could hear the dragon speak, its voice like thunder, and to his surprise, he could hear Senta just as well. It was as though she was speaking through a megaphone.
When the dragon had let out his fiery breath, Karl had thought for sure that Senta had been burned alive, but when the flame was gone, she was still there. When the dragon had prepared to breath fire again, Senta had cast her spell.
Her body had transformed into pure energy, and then a beam had shot from her that hit the dragon mid-chest. It quickly engulfed him and then he too became the same pure energy. They both glowed for a moment, connected by the stream of light between them. Then there was a huge flash. Karl quickly covered his eyes, but even so, it was almost five minutes before he could see anything but blue spots.
By this time, he could smell smoke. The house was on fire. He hurried down the back stairs but had to take a detour on the second floor to arrive in the parlor. He quickly ran through the foyer and out the front door. There were flames along the southern side of the house, but they weren’t spreading. It was as if the structure was willing itself not to burn.
Outside, there was no sign of the dragon, but the body of a blond woman wearing black leather was prone on the grass.
“Senta!” he called running to her.
He knelt down beside the body, relieved that he could see her breathing. He carefully rolled her over onto her back. She was blond, and she wore black leather, and she had star sigils on her breast, but it wasn’t Senta.
“Who are you?” asked Karl.
“My dear boy, you have the pleasure of meeting Zurfina the Magnificent.”