felt; in total control.
For most of a morning, they circled the city, forcing the people to flee either into, or out of, its confining protection. Most of the outer city was deserted, as the people found the sturdier holds in which to hunker down. Richard relished the fear as much as the Nightshade had, and it filled him with an intense bloodlust that was multiplied tenfold by the tainted dour flowing through him from all of his dragon tears. He was lost in the delicious screams of a woman as he had Bruiser slowly squeeze her life from her, but suddenly Richard’s attention, as well as that of most of the mudged around him, was drawn to a point in the sky a little higher above the city than they were. Something was approaching from the north.
Dragoneers.
No, it wasn’t the Dragoneers, but three riderless High Draci: one of them frosty-white, but half of Zahrellion’s dragon’s size, a green so long and dark as to be more than a thousand years old, and a red that was just as big. Then came a fourth High Dracus. This one was scraggly-looking and scaled brightly in blue. The blue had a rider, which surprised Richard, for she was a tiny, red-haired girl, and she was just sitting there smirking at him with her arms on her hips. The blue dragon reminded him so much of Royal, he had Bruiser drop the woman they were torturing and hovered him up a little bit. He wanted to take in these newcomers at eye level.
Hi, Uncle Richard, the girl said. I’m Milly, and it’s time for you to go.
Milly? Richard was baffled, for his spies had told him of his niece, but not of how strange she really was. He’d thought she’d been painting her face white, like the young girls in the streets of the Mainland were all doing. He would never have guessed that it was her real complexion and they were mimicking her, yet it made sense. She was Jenka’s daughter and the sole princess of this land. The girls of the area would try to mimic her look, just like the Vikarian girls all tried to look like his wife.
Just the presence of the High Dracus sent the mudged not directly under Richard’s control fleeing in all directions. Without the Nightshade to command them, they were following their own instinct. Bruiser and Richard’s dozen collared wyrms were still there, but shivering with fear. His two remaining riders and their collared mudged were still there, too, but had moved away from their king as if he had the plague.
Richard was too far gone to remember what fear was, and he knew it. In the bat of an eye, he used his dragon tears to blast her with the fastest pulse of power he could conjure. His intent was to end her and teleport away, and maybe see how these unfamiliar dragons reacted as he was going, but she disappeared, dragon and all, and then reappeared just a rock’s throw directly in front of him.
Had he been on Royal’s back, his mighty blue might have tail-whipped them across the sky where they were. Richard, like everyone else, couldn’t see them when they were moving, but he had been trained by Vax Noffa, Clover’s son, one of the greatest wizards who ever lived.
He did the first thing that came to mind and cast a simple spell to detect magic. After that he could sense where the crafty little girl was, or where she had just been.
He suddenly realized two things then. The first was that his foot was cold, and apparently open to the elements.
The second thing was that he’d sensed her right there, whispering something in his ear. It was an instant of time to him, and he glared at her where she’d appeared, for he hated being mocked more than anything. He was smart enough to know, though, that he might get an opportunity to get away. Still, he had to test her.
You’ve been the Nightshade’s toy, Uncle, Amelia said, as sure as a princess should be. She had his boot in her hand, and after taking a quick sniff, she scrunched up her nose and tossed it off to the side.
There was silence as it fell, and Richard felt her
For most of a morning, they circled the city, forcing the people to flee either into, or out of, its confining protection. Most of the outer city was deserted, as the people found the sturdier holds in which to hunker down. Richard relished the fear as much as the Nightshade had, and it filled him with an intense bloodlust that was multiplied tenfold by the tainted dour flowing through him from all of his dragon tears. He was lost in the delicious screams of a woman as he had Bruiser slowly squeeze her life from her, but suddenly Richard’s attention, as well as that of most of the mudged around him, was drawn to a point in the sky a little higher above the city than they were. Something was approaching from the north.
Dragoneers.
No, it wasn’t the Dragoneers, but three riderless High Draci: one of them frosty-white, but half of Zahrellion’s dragon’s size, a green so long and dark as to be more than a thousand years old, and a red that was just as big. Then came a fourth High Dracus. This one was scraggly-looking and scaled brightly in blue. The blue had a rider, which surprised Richard, for she was a tiny, red-haired girl, and she was just sitting there smirking at him with her arms on her hips. The blue dragon reminded him so much of Royal, he had Bruiser drop the woman they were torturing and hovered him up a little bit. He wanted to take in these newcomers at eye level.
Hi, Uncle Richard, the girl said. I’m Milly, and it’s time for you to go.
Milly? Richard was baffled, for his spies had told him of his niece, but not of how strange she really was. He’d thought she’d been painting her face white, like the young girls in the streets of the Mainland were all doing. He would never have guessed that it was her real complexion and they were mimicking her, yet it made sense. She was Jenka’s daughter and the sole princess of this land. The girls of the area would try to mimic her look, just like the Vikarian girls all tried to look like his wife.
Just the presence of the High Dracus sent the mudged not directly under Richard’s control fleeing in all directions. Without the Nightshade to command them, they were following their own instinct. Bruiser and Richard’s dozen collared wyrms were still there, but shivering with fear. His two remaining riders and their collared mudged were still there, too, but had moved away from their king as if he had the plague.
Richard was too far gone to remember what fear was, and he knew it. In the bat of an eye, he used his dragon tears to blast her with the fastest pulse of power he could conjure. His intent was to end her and teleport away, and maybe see how these unfamiliar dragons reacted as he was going, but she disappeared, dragon and all, and then reappeared just a rock’s throw directly in front of him.
Had he been on Royal’s back, his mighty blue might have tail-whipped them across the sky where they were. Richard, like everyone else, couldn’t see them when they were moving, but he had been trained by Vax Noffa, Clover’s son, one of the greatest wizards who ever lived.
He did the first thing that came to mind and cast a simple spell to detect magic. After that he could sense where the crafty little girl was, or where she had just been.
He suddenly realized two things then. The first was that his foot was cold, and apparently open to the elements.
The second thing was that he’d sensed her right there, whispering something in his ear. It was an instant of time to him, and he glared at her where she’d appeared, for he hated being mocked more than anything. He was smart enough to know, though, that he might get an opportunity to get away. Still, he had to test her.
You’ve been the Nightshade’s toy, Uncle, Amelia said, as sure as a princess should be. She had his boot in her hand, and after taking a quick sniff, she scrunched up her nose and tossed it off to the side.
There was silence as it fell, and Richard felt her
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