Bombs Away

Once Astrid the ghost dragon cleared the mountain range and the sky began to lighten, Florence strained to see the glorious palace Astrid had spoken about. She tried to imagine Fifer living alone in such a place. It seemed strange.

“It won’t be long now,” said Astrid. She sniffed the air. “I didn’t know that Ashguard kept dragons.”

“The dragons are under the command of the Revinir,” Florence said for probably the eleventh time. “I’m pretty sure Ashguard isn’t there anymore.” Out of everyone, Florence knew the least about the history of this land, but she’d heard stories. “And from what Maiven Taveer told me, I don’t think the palace has been kept up.”

“Oh, that’s right,” said Astrid. “You mentioned that once before.”

Florence blinked. “Right.” A sliver of sun appeared to their left and Florence leaned forward, eager to see what they would be going up against. Astrid pointed out the forest and crater lake in the same direction as the sun and the deserted village with the palace straight ahead. It was surrounded by overgrowth and not easy to spot at first, but then Florence spied four red dots making a square on the ground. “Those red things are the dragons,” Florence told Astrid. “Can you get a sense of how big they are? Or… how combative?”

Astrid was quiet for a long moment as she sampled the air. “They aren’t large like ghost dragons,” she said. “Maybe half the size—average for adults. A bit larger than that dark purple friend of yours, I’d say.”

“Anything else you can detect?” asked Florence, feeling relieved that the dragons weren’t as enormous as Gorgrun and Quince. Though they were still dragons. But Florence was betting on the fact that these were no different from the ones that flew aimlessly through the skies under the Revinir’s mind control and would be somewhat oblivious to things. And even though they’d attacked Fifer’s birds, perhaps they’d just seen them as food rather than intruders. Neither Astrid nor Florence looked like food.

“They seem docile,” said Astrid. “But that could change.”

Florence quickly sent a message to alert Fifer that they were approaching. Minutes later she received a response to drop the supplies through a hole in the roof if possible—that way the dragons wouldn’t torch them.

There was still something fishy about the way Fifer was behaving. Perhaps it was just communicating through messages that was hard to get used to. Not being able to hear Fifer’s voice or detect her tone made it difficult to tell how she was handling things. Her letters seemed quick and formal, and she didn’t give Florence a lot of detail. She also seemed very matter-of-fact in this odd situation, which is partly what made Florence suspicious that perhaps Fifer was being forced to write like that. She couldn’t tell what was up, and it was driving her crazy.

Where are you in the palace? Florence wrote back, and watched where the component went.

At the top of the center tower, inside the bulb, came the response. Her description of the building location matched what Florence could see. So at least that made sense.

Florence studied the broken-down palace as they drew close. It looked abandoned and unsafe. Sure enough, there were two holes in the roof, close together. Maybe there was a way to get a peek inside. “Okay, Astrid,” said Florence. “Stay nice and high as we fly over the property. I don’t think the dragons will do anything since you’re a dragon too, but we want to be very careful.”

Astrid agreed and stayed aloft. Florence could see the red dragons on the ground standing up and craning their necks to see what was flying into the airspace above the palace. They began moving but stayed primarily in their corners. Florence looked down at the roof. It was too far below them to guarantee an accurate drop of the components into one of the holes—they looked like dots from this height. Astrid sailed across the property toward the orchard. One of the red dragons took flight, then circled and settled again.

Astrid soared over the abandoned village and turned around. “Now what?” she asked.

“Let’s return. A little lower.”

Astrid flew back over the property, dropping slightly. Florence kept a close eye on the red dragons. They were definitely aware of the ghost dragon and her rider, but none of them seemed threatened enough to come for them. She took one of the ropes and tied the end around the sack of components. Perhaps lowering it would give it a better chance of hitting the right spot… and maybe Fifer could use the rope for something too.

Florence peered back at the south window of the onion-bulb tower as they crossed the property line. Sure enough, there was Fifer, pressed against the pane, seemingly alone. Florence waved, and Fifer waved back.

Once they made it without incident to the other side, Florence repeated the order, having Astrid drop a little farther and go a little slower. “I’m going to try to lower this sack of supplies through one of the holes in the roof,” she explained. “If I miss, it’ll get stuck on the rooftop and won’t do anybody any good. So we need to get it right.”

“I think we can make this happen,” said Astrid. “I’m not sensing any serious animosity toward me coming from below. Just a little prickliness.”

“Great. Let’s get as close as you dare, then, and circle around the roof hole.”

Astrid slowed her airspeed and dropped lower, doing her best to look casual about it to those below. Florence lay on her stomach across Astrid’s back, arms outstretched and letting down the rope with the sack of supplies. Astrid circled and Florence kept the rope dangling as she waited for the perfect moment to let go.

Just as Florence was about to make the drop, movement at the back of the property caught her eye. One of the dragons had lifted off. It let out a roar and a blast of flames as it called to the other three.

Astrid jerked upward and abandoned circling. Florence cringed, forced to make a split decision, and let go of the rope. She watched as it barely missed its mark and stuck on the roof.

The other three dragons took flight and roared back to the first. They came straight for Astrid and Florence. “Hang on!” said Astrid.

The warrior trainer scrambled to sit upright. She reached for her bow and nocked a magical arrow as the four red dragons came at them from all directions. “Go, Astrid!” Florence cried, then let the arrow fly at the nearest dragon. It missed and soared over its head. She pulled another out as Astrid flew jerkily, trying to find her best path to safety without running into one of the attackers.

But the red dragons were faster. Florence aimed for the creature’s open mouth and let loose another arrow. This time it hit, flying straight up the nostril instead and disappearing. The dragon shrieked and roared. Then its eyes rolled back into its head and it started falling, spiraling all the way down and crushing one of the corner towers. The palace shook.

Florence stared. She’d killed it with a direct hit up the nostril. Had it gone to its brain? Was that the secret? Was that the most vulnerable part of a dragon? “Move away from the palace!” Florence cried. She had to draw the dragons away from the structure so they didn’t accidentally crush Fifer if they went down. Astrid did her best as the dragons roared at them from three sides, now. Florence took aim again but held off releasing the arrow until the dragons weren’t directly above the palace. Astrid darted upward with one of the dragons on her tail. Florence, trying to keep her aim steady, took the shot and nailed the second dragon in the same place. It fell much like the first, narrowly missing the palace and landing with a hard thud on the property below.

The other two dragons were fully charged now, and they came after Astrid. One of them took the ghost dragon’s neck in its mouth and yanked her around while the other barreled for Florence. Before the warrior trainer could get off another fatal shot, the dragon plowed into her, knocking her off balance. Her bow went flying out of her hands and fell to the ground. Florence grabbed on to the red dragon’s face and pried its mouth open as its back end bucked. It roared, engulfing Florence in flames, but they only blinded her momentarily.

Then the red dragon reached out with its front claws and tried to grab the stone warrior, but its claws merely left long, shallow scratches in her. Florence hung on to it, frustrating the beast. It swung around violently, nearly throwing Florence into the air. Quickly she let go of it and grabbed for Astrid, but her fingers grasped only the ethereal cloudiness of the ghost dragon’s body, and she started sliding. Astrid tried to help, but the second remaining dragon came roaring back and head-butted Florence off.

With an angry yell, the Magical Warrior trainer dropped like a bomb to the ground and smashed into a hundred pieces.