❝ when she looks into his eyes, she feels the gripping temptation to tell him all her darkest secrets; the names of the men she has killed, but she learned a long time ago that the only people who can keep secrets are resting in overgrown graveyards...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Calliope is surrounded by dragon fire on all sides.
It's different than normal fire—far more scorching and blazing and agonizing than anything she's ever experienced before. The flames are so hot that even stepping close to them causes a stinging sensation on her skin and her eyes to water. Smoke has filled her lungs to the point she can barely speak as she shoves more citizens into the confines of the palace where Gwen and Gaius are treating the wounded. They've tried to coax Calliope into a cot once or twice, but she won't rest while Arthur and the knights need her help.
There are holes in her tunic, and there is ash on her sword. Calliope's face is obscured by grime and blood, her icy hair turned a horrible, dark gray color. After three nights of this, directly after her fight with the Knights of Medhir, she is nearing collapse. Her head injury has not healed properly, and she can still feel some after effects of the sleeping spell wearing on her body. But she must keep going. For herself and for Arthur and for Camelot. Calliope presses on, shutting palace doors behind the last child bolting into the makeshift infirmary.
What awaits her in the courtyard is pure and utter chaos. Horses loose, dead guards on fire, and flames roaring throughout the entire city. She barely hangs onto her sword, her chest igniting in pain with each hallowed breath.
For a moment, all the screaming and the unrelenting fire brings her back in time. Calliope feels panic settling in, suddenly, she's just a nine-year-old girl again, afraid and alone and lost—
A crossbow is shoved into her arms, jolting her back to reality
"I know you're tired, but make one last effort for me!" That's Arthur's voice. It rings out as he passes with a group of knights.
Calliope breaks out of her trance. Leon is in front of her. He must've given her the bow, and he puts a hand on her shoulder, "You still with us, Cal?" When she nods, he pulls an extra sling of arrows off his back. "Good, we need you."
"Every shot must count!" Arthur commands as Calliope swings the arrows over her back, joining the group with Leon at her side.
They climb the stairs leading to the top of the wall where even more knights and guards armed with crossbows are getting into position. There are lit braziers everywhere for the arrows, but Calliope knows it will take more than this to kill a dragon.
She loads her crossbow next to Leon as Arthur walks behind them with Merlin following him, "I'm sorry you have to do this," he says.
Calliope sends Merlin a worried glance. This is the price he has to pay for asking the dragon for help so many times—it's the only reason the dragon let him know how to stop Morgause's plan.
"Why? You're not to blame," Arthur answers as he takes his crossbow.
In the distance, beneath the glow of a wide, full moon, Calliope spots the dragon. Kilgharrah utters a loud roar as his giant wings expand.
