The Protector and the Peacemaker

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

(Porter)

The blinding light faded, and Porter found himself once again in the middle of the forest. He glanced around quickly, making sure nobody had been left behind, and then turned to Droma.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Near Red Castle," the giant answered, and made his way over to a break in the trees before motioning for the others to follow him. Porter came to stand beside him, and looked out over the scene below.

They were on a hill that overlooked both Red Castle and the large open field in front of it. Just as the mirror had shown them, the Mythic army was amassed in the forest outside the castle. Weapons glinted in the morning sunlight, and standing at the front of the army was Arch-Mythic Rayalga, looking as proud, regal, and as defiant as ever with his freshly groomed feathers and fur, belying the madness that Porter knew was inside him.

The Slayers were gathered just outside the doors of their base, their black coats looking like an ocean of tar in the middle of the forest. Hundreds more stood on the battlements of the castle, armed with bows, arrows, and spells. Mortoph was nowhere in sight, but Porter guessed that was because he wanted to make a dramatic entrance.

What Porter hadn't been expecting were the people.

"What are they doing here?" he demanded, pointing to a large mass of humans that had congregated at the far end of the field. They didn't seem to be Slayers, and many of them were women— something you never saw in the Slayers' ranks. There were even some children out there, he realized with a start. They all stood together, shuffling anxiously, looking as though they were neither on the Slayers' nor the Mythics' side.

"They still don't understand what's going on," Azkular explained. "Most of them know something important is happening, and they want to be here to see it. I would bet they don't even know that there's going to be battle in a few minutes. The rest of them probably think this is all a hoax and want to see where it leads."

Porter shook his head. "They need to get out of here. They're going to get hurt."

"Killed, more likely," Droma agreed.

"No, it's better this way," Azkular argued. "If they're here to see us reveal Mortoph, then maybe it will make it easier to convince them to accept the Mythics afterwards."

Porter still felt uneasy about it. How many of their lives would be lost before the battle ended?

"There's nothing we can do about it," Sarah said inside his heart. "Just focus on what we came here for."

Porter nodded and turned to face the others.

"This is it," he declared. "This is what we've been working towards all along." He paused, his own words weighing heavily on him. He took a deep breath. "This is where it ends."

"Then let's do it," Azkular said, excitement lighting up his eyes. "Let's end this war once and for all!"

"We are ready," Droma said, summoning his massive axe.

Porter turned to Ozzie and Misty. Misty was still in her wolf form, where her teeth and claws would be most effective. Ozzie drew his knife, and Porter felt a twinge of uncertainty. How much good would a dinky little knife like that be in a battle?

"Don't worry about me," Ozzie said to him, reading his expression, and flashed one of his trademark manic grins. "I'll be fine."

Finally, Porter turned to Sarah. Her green eyes seemed to glow, as if the Keeping Fire knew it was about to be used.