Hierarchy (Book Four of the Torrent Skies Saga)

Chapter Forty-Six: Need

Fykes could not breathe as he ran, searching the plains for any sign of Kryrial and Katerin. He gave no care to the snow or the ice, slipping and filling his boots with snow as he charged recklessly forward. Colin was behind him somewhere, but he could not care for the prince right now. He had one thought, and he needed to find her.

A yell from Kindra had him stopping, Skidding in his tracks. Turning, he saw Kryrial. In the throne room, the lack of space had made him look enormous, but here, where nothing impeded him, he looked even larger.

Kryrial left a crater where he landed, and the snow had melted, leaving mud smeared with blood and ash behind. Kryrial had pulled himself forward, and he plucked Ballista bolts from his scales as if they were splinters.

One eye watched them, and as soon as they had looked, he let out a low and dangerous growl. His scales were scorched, and he was ambling. He was hurt and tired. But he was still very aware, and very much a dragon.

Fykes found a breath, but still he could not see Katerin.

"Katerin!" He scanned the ground around the crater, seeing everything and nothing. "Katerin!"

Kryrial narrowed one eye and reached out one claw with a victorious look in his eyes. Within his claw, curled upon herself and unconscious, Katerin lay, her armor gone, shirt torn, hair scorched.

Without a thought, Fykes was moving forward, and he heard others behind him. Ahlindrion glowed the closer he got, and he swallowed his fear.

Like a cat with a toy it was reticent to lose, Kryrial wrapped his claws around Katerin again, and tucked them under his chest. He rose above them, and though no pain showed in his eyes, it showed in his movements. Another growl sounded, low and serious. "She is mine."

"The hell she is!" Kindra shouted, hefting her weapon.

Kryrial's lips pulled back over his fangs. He heaved in a breath, and then with a malicious smile, he exhaled fire.

The earth blackened, the moisture within it paltry, compared to the heat of dragons flame. Prince Colin screamed as everyone scrambled.

Fykes propelled himself sideways, and thumped into the dirt, rolling as the heat stole his breath and made his armor feel as if it would burn him. Rising as soon as he could, he charged. Plunging Ahlindrion into Kryrial's chest, he jerked his blade sideways.

But not before Kryrial's enormous maw snapped for him. He forwent his grip on Ahlindrion to dodge.

Kryrial, with a shuddering growl, flicked his claws and tossed Katerin into the crater behind him. She rolled limply down the dirt, her arms and legs at odd angles.

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Kindra was a flash of motion, her flail sundered the bone and sinew in Kryrial's front paw, and tore a jagged hole through the membrane of his wing as it came forward to shield him.

With a terrible swipe, Kindra was sent sprawling in the mud. Knocking her head on something solid. She screamed in a rage, and was back on her feet before the sound had fully left her lips.

Now, Kindra dove toward the dragon head first as Lugaria had joined the fray, darting back and forth in front of Kryrial's enormous maw.

Kryrial reared back, as Agrata's bolts peppered across Kryrial's eyes, and he shivered and whined as they stuck, and tiny lightning bolts zapped them.

Kindra took advantage of his pain, and heaved her flail into Kryrial's throat, feeling the crushing power of the blow.

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