“I’m not leaving you,” he said.
“Yes we are,” Shadow said. “This isn’t a duel we are part of.”
The normally amusing Shadow had a serious expression, and Light realized he was right. Reluctantly, he slapped the side of the wolfsteed and then leapt into a sprint, rushing to keep up with his brother and Willow. He cast a look over his shoulder, and watched Elenyr draw her sword as she prepared to face the mightiest assassin on Lumineia.
Chapter 38: Allies
As Light raced away with the heavily laden wolfsteed, Elenyr circled Gendor, looking for an opening. But the assassin came to a halt. The sounds of battle cascaded over them, yet the fiends did not seem inclined to attack Elenyr, and flowed around the gully containing the two combatants. Elenyr flicked her sword out and bared her teeth.
“What are you waiting for?”
Gendor was turned toward her, and seemed to be looking at Ilumidora. She frowned, disliking his lack of attention. What was he looking at? She began to circle him but he rotated in place, never meeting her gaze.
“You cannot win this battle,” Gendor said.
“I know,” Elenyr replied, frowning at his posture. “But we have a plan to succeed.”
She glanced skyward. Three hours until noonday. Three hours to locate the four generals, and kill them at the precise moment the Dark Gate was destroyed. But the walls of Ilumidora were already cracking. The cavalry charge had given the walls time to heal, but not enough. The next wave crashed on the city walls like a wave on a boulder, each blow sending more cracks spreading across its surface.
“Will you be triumphant?” Gendor asked.
“I do not know.” She came to a halt and regarded him. He still would not meet her gaze.
“Would you trust me?” the assassin asked.
“Why would I do that?” Elenyr asked.
“Because it’s the only way you can win.”
“I bet on my sons,” she replied.
She began to advance on the assassin but his hand shot up, barring the way. His pulsing scythe hung behind him, low and ready. She came to a halt, and then recognized the reluctance to his frame.
“You are choosing not to fight,” she guessed.
“I’m choosing not to look,” he replied. “I must obey Draeken’s commands, and he ordered me to kill you—and anything that stands between us. I must strike the moment I see you.”
Elenyr realized the man’s clever interpretation of the order. He had to strike and kill Elenyr, but only when he saw her. Until he did, his will remained his own. But if his focus lapsed for even a moment, if he so much as glanced in her direction, he would turn against her.
“What do you want?” Elenyr asked, a skorpian spear passing through her ethereal body.
“I know you cannot heal me,” he said. “And I have accepted my fate. This is my penance for my life of blood. My one chance at redemption is to destroy Draeken from within. We were once foes, but if you will allow it, I would be your ally.”
Elenyr recognized the weight behind the question. Gendor could have simply attacked the fiends, or even the other generals, but he’d come to Elenyr. The man was smart enough to recognize that killing fiends was not the purpose of the battle, and if he wanted to offer aid, he could only do so if he understood Elenyr’s plan.
But to share the truth with Gendor represented a massive risk. If Draeken asked, he would be forced to respond, and their slim chance at victory would crumble. And there was the chance he would look at her, and then go for the kill.
“We must endure until noon,” she admitted.
“You will not,” he said simply, and pointed to the nearest wall.
The aquaglass cracks had spread between the tree towers, and from the base all the way to the top. Fiends hacked at the barrier, bits of magic flying in all directions. Even beneath the blistering fire from ten thousand arches and crossbowmen, they pushed through and struck the barrier. The cavalry swept by in another charge, clearing the ground once more, but many riders were torn from their saddles by the next wave of fiends.
“When the time comes,” she said, “I will ask for your aid.”
“I cannot help you if your walls crumble,” Gendor said. “Your forces are too small.”
“Not all of our army has arrived,” she replied.
Over the din of battle and the screams of the dying, one sound gradually rose, the sound of an enormous object charging across the ground. Both Gendor and Elenyr turned as a giant form burst over a western hill and plowed into the back of the fiends. So dense were their bodies that for a moment the fifty foot Titan disappeared from view. Then it swung its sword, the blade cleaving through the ranks of fiends and sending them flying.
“The Titan from the Assassin hall?” Death sucked in his breath. “You got it working?”
“That would be the fragment of Mind,” Elenyr said.
A distant roar pierced the battle din. Deep and throaty, the roar signaled a challenge, and many of the fiends slowed. Defender and attacker turned their eyes to the sky, where from a cloud descended a large golden dragon. Two figures sat on its back, and the sight of them drew a smile to Elenyr’s lips.
The great golden dragon roared its challenge, and another dragon dropped from the clouds at his side. And then another. And another. Dragons abruptly filled the sky, all dropping from the clouds and landing on the ground outside of the city, their maws opening and spilling fire and frost into the ranks of fiends. Lightning exploded from the throat of a blue, while acid came from a black dragon. Thousands of dragons, all come to join the war against Draeken.
“Now our forces have arrived,” Elenyr said.
“Draeken may have the might,” Death said, his tone tinged with praise, “but you have the cunning to win. I will be your ally when you say the word.”
He retreated back into the ranks of fiends, still keeping his gaze averted. Then he was gone. Elenyr turned and sped toward the Titan, relishing the cheer swelling up from the defenders. Thousands of dragons had come, their combined breath filling the battlefield with lethal elements, scorching the broken trees and earth. Elenyr phased to flesh and back, slashing across fiends as she sprinted for the Titan. For the first time, she dared to hope.
