Yu Fong tossed the tooth aside. An overpowering heat emanated from his skin, the air streaming from him in transparent currents.
I backed away.
Yu Fong’s body burst. A creature spilled out, twenty-five feet long, a muscular leonine body covered in scales. A huge head crowned with a red mane sat on a thick but agile scaled neck, its face a meld of dragon and lion. A serpentine tail snapped.
The beast that used to be Yu Fong charged onto the field. His body burst into flames, red fire coating him like a mantle. Neig’s warriors parted like water, letting him pass.
On the other end of the field, Neig spun away from my father.
“I am the Lord of Fire!” the Suanni roared, tearing through the warriors like he was a comet. “Face me, coward!”
I grabbed my swords and dashed onto the field, through the gap Yu Fong had made. I had to find Curran.
The ranks of warriors were closing ahead. A moment, and they surrounded me. I spat the power word “osanda.” They went down to their knees and I cut my way through them, pushing my way forward, to the center of the battlefield. Blood sprayed. Bodies fell amid hoarse screams. I cut, severing limbs and carving bodies with blades and magic. Fire and lightning streaked above my head, ripped through by a stream of glowing green bullets from a machine gun. Fighters tore at each other, shapeshifters disemboweled their opponents, vampires ripped into bodies. Carnage reigned, the roar, bellows, and moans of the dying blending into a terrible din.
I cleaved a body in two, opened my mouth, and screamed. The word of power burst from me, straight as an arrow, searing Neig’s fighters, mangling their bodies. I tore into the gap, cutting like a dervish in a familiar lightning-fast pattern, severing limbs and spraying blood, unstoppable, without mercy.
A yeddimur popped up in front of me, the lone survivor of the fire and bagpipes. I carved him from shoulder to waist and kept going, reaping a harvest of lives, spitting magic and bringing death. On the left a clump of bodies exploded, and Hugh roared, covered in blood, a bloody axe in his hand. We connected, back to back. For a brief moment we stood alone in the carnage, and then we broke apart and charged back into battle.
Suddenly the clump of warriors around me split. They fled, panicked. Wind hit me, nearly taking me off my feet. A huge black lion landed next to me, his wings wide, glowing with silver. Curran had assumed his god form.
I jumped and climbed black fur onto Curran’s back. He sprinted and then we were airborne. The battle yawned below us. Ahead, Neig spat fire at Yu Fong in a steady torrent, circling him, great wings beating. Yu Fong limped along the ground, his side torn, sending a torrent of white flames back. My father stood, caught in the middle of it all, a protective bubble of magic glowing around him, reflecting the dueling fires. He held a spear in his hands.
Curran dived at Neig. I jumped, aiming for the dragon’s neck, and missed. Damn it.
There was nothing under my feet. I plunged. There was no time to be scared. No time for anything. I was about to die.
The air caught me. I was no longer falling, I was floating down gently. I glanced down. My father shook his head in reproach, as if I’d broken an expensive vase. Above me Curran barreled into the dragon, locking his jaws on Neig’s neck. Next to Neig, Curran looked small. The dragon kicked at Curran. His huge claws caught the lion, ripping a gash in Curran’s side. Curran snarled and tore a chunk out of Neig’s neck. They spun together, clawing and biting.
Hold on, honey. I’m coming.
Fatigue fled. Only fury remained, a hot ravenous beast inside me that had to be fed. I attacked. They fell before me like blades of grass. I cut a clear path around my father’s chariot. Blood rained on us, Neig and Curran tearing at each other. Yu Fong sprayed the field with fire so hot it melted the armor of the warriors around us.
My father dropped his protective spell. Neig’s warriors tried to rush him from the side. He moved his hand as if swatting a fly and they flew, falling at my feet. I cut them down, still spitting magic and death.
Yu Fong had fallen on his side, a pike glowing with magic thrust between his ribs. Adora burst out of the crowd and stood over him with her katana, holding the soldiers back.
My father raised his spear, a long glowing rope attached to one end.
Curran plummeted to the ground. Neig followed, jaws opened wide, ready for the kill.
My father hurled his spear. It streaked through the air, glowing with violent red, and caught Neig in the throat. The other end of the rope plunged into the ground. My father screamed a command. The rope went taut. Neig flailed on the end of it, like a harpooned fish. Roland gripped the rope. It was absurd, he was so small and Neig was gargantuan, yet my father held him.
“Kate!”
I spun around. Julie limped toward me, her hair caked with blood. Behind her, Derek in warrior form snarled, his left arm hanging from his body at an awkward angle.
“Kate!” Julie reached me and thrust a glowing ruby into my hands. I grabbed it. Magic bit at me with hot jaws. An anchor was right. The damn thing weighed fifty pounds. The weight of it threatened to yank me off my feet. The ruby pulled on me as if it were trying to suck out my soul. It wanted to go back to its realm. It required it, and if I let it, it would pull me right into it.
I thrust it into my armor, over my right hip, where I’d made an enclosure just for it.
“I have it!” I screamed. “Now! We have to do it now!”
Above me Neig let out a horrible screech.
Curran ran up next to me. Half of his body smoked, the fur gone, his skin bubbling from the heat. He rolled and launched himself at Neig. I took a running start, caught his wing, and let it carry me up with him. Neig’s scaled back loomed before me.
Second time had to be the charm, because I wouldn’t get a shot for a third.
I jumped. The air whistled by me, and then I was on Neig’s scaled back. I dashed up it, sliding forward to his head.
Curran had locked his jaws on Neig’s neck and was chewing through it. Neig flailed, trying to get his clawed foot up against Curran and rip himself free, but my father held him in place.
Neig rolled his head, trying to shake Curran off. A torrent of flames burst from his mouth. The ground yawned at me. Adora vanished in the fire.
No. No, no, no, no . . .
The flames vanished. A charred body knelt on one knee in the dirt, her katana caught in her hand. A soldier brushed by her, and she fell over on her side.
Dead. Adora was dead. Neig had killed her.
There was so much pain it was ripping me apart. I screamed and scrambled up, over Neig’s massive neck, over his horns, up onto his head and face. Two huge eyes, blazing with amber, focused on me for a fraction of a second. I raised my blood swords and plunged them into Neig’s eyes. The amber liquid splashed me, hot and magic.
The dragon howled, shaking his head, trying to knock me loose, but I clung to my blades.
“DIE!” I screamed, feeding magic into my swords. “DIE, DIE, DIE!”
Neig shrieked and tore free of my father’s restraints, shooting up into the sky. Wind tore at me. I held on to my swords, the massive body beneath me trembling and shaking. We climbed up and up and up, higher and higher toward the clouds.
“You have killed me, Daughter of Nimrod,” the dragon whispered. “But I’ll take you with me.”
We plummeted to the ground. The battlefield rushed at us at a dizzying speed.
This is it.
A dark shape surged from the ground and thrust itself under Neig—Curran trying to slow the dragon’s fall—but Neig was too heavy.
Hands grabbed my shoulders and jerked me up, ripping me and Sarrat free. Suddenly I was flying and Neig was still plunging down, my other sword still in his left eye socket. Above me Teddy Jo soared on his midnight wings.
Curran twisted clear. Neig’s enormous body hit the ground, bouncing once. The mighty dragon’s head dropped and lay still. Neig the Legend was dead.
Teddy Jo swooped down. My feet touched the grass. He let go and I rolled clear and up onto my feet.
Curran had collapsed next to the dragon. I couldn’t tell if he was dead or alive. Ice-cold fear gripped me. Around us the battle still raged.
“DAUGHTER.”
I turned. My father was looking at me from the height of his chariot, and his face was mournful. Behind him his troops stood in a wall, rows and rows of people in tactical armor.