As Wrath kept her company circling above the battlefield, Leslyn spent the time trying to come up with some kind of plan. First priority, get himself and Arlis safely to ground. He scanned the mayhem down below, trying to make sense of what he was looking at.
The injured green wyvern was still flying over the Aerie grounds, tears of coagulating red streaming across its back, while its peach-colored mate was some distance away, slowly turning to make its way back. The small diamond formation of ten griffins led by Tannoran remained in pursuit of the peach.
Dracats were everywhere, using the chaos created by the wyverns to their own advantage. Most of them had stopped fighting and were diving upon the living sea of sheep and goats, killing and eating them on the ground or taking them back up to dine in the air. If they had already gorged themselves or were just feeling especially ornery, it seemed they took great pleasure in wasting the life and meat by flinging the hoofed animals to their deaths.
At least their gluttony comes with a price, Leslyn thought, feeling sick at the sight. They were heavier after eating, and less agile.
The only semblance of order in the mess was in fifteen or so formations of ten griffins each, all of them seemingly trying to avoid the wyverns and concentrating on clearing out the dracats. One small group seemed to be constantly harrying the green wyvern, keeping it distracted and away from the others.
Other groups of varying sizes rested below, some notably missing points of their formations where Wrath had tempted those members away to her company. Leslyn could see white Sythe on the ground, standing out like a lighthouse among the reds, tans, browns and blacks, but he couldn’t pick red Romo out anywhere.
Speaking of Romo… that sick feeling hit him again as he thought about facing Koben when this was all over. Whether he truly had a choice or not, thanks to Wrath nearly running him over and carrying him outside, this would be the first time he’d actually disobeyed an order from the prince.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to worry about that, for Wrath split the air with another whistle. Unlike her last whistle, which was one long sound, this one was three high-pitched, staccato notes.
Nothing happened, neither a dive, some other movement, or an answer from her company. Leslyn thought nothing of it, until Wrath craned her head to look back over her shoulder past Arlis and screamed like an angry eagle with the lungs of a giant lion. He hastily renewed his grip on her mane as she dropped one wing and pivoted sharply, nearly tossing him. A quick glance proved that Arlis was holding up well, tucked into the griffin’s mane like a burr further up on the crest of her neck.
Wrath repeated her staccato whistle, flying back toward her followers. Suddenly, she was diving at one of her own allies, snatching at a red griffin with her talons and repeating the whistle again.
Arlis glanced back at Leslyn, and they both looked on in horror as the blue griffin continued to fly over the leading edge of one side of the wedge formation, whistling and clawing at the very same griffins who’d been following her.
“I can’t stop her!” Arlis yelled, yanking uselessly on her feathers.
“Don’t bother, then. Just hold on!”
Why aren’t they fighting back? Leslyn thought. Or breaking rank and fleeing? It didn’t make sense.
Once she’d harassed the entire leading edge of that side of the formation, Wrath then proceeded to go straight across it, hazing more griffins with swipes and whistles as she flew toward the center of the group. Her actions were collapsing the wedge, forcing the griffins closer and closer together until their wings nearly touched, and they began to shift around each other and toward the center.
Leslyn’s mouth fell open as he realized what was happening. “I don’t believe it,” he muttered. “There’s no way she could—”
But she could, and did.
After another sweep, plucking feathers from one griffin here, menacing another there, all the while repeating that same staccato, three-beat whistle, Wrath had trained her followers into forming one long, spiraling line that slowly took on the shape of a tornado as more and more griffins moved into place, continuing their circling.
As soon as she was satisfied that her order was being obeyed, Wrath bolted through the center of the tornado and delicately settled into a glide at the head of the line. Moments later, she sounded the long, loud whistle, and took her company into a steep dive.
Wind rushing up into their faces harshly enough to bring tears to their eyes, Leslyn and Arlis leaned back as far as they could, clinging to the griffin’s thick blue mane. Leslyn feared that, at any moment, Wrath’s feathers would give way and he’d go flying.
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He couldn’t even catch a breath when she did level out, for the massive dome that was the back of the green wyvern’s head rushed toward them with terrifying speed. Wrath aimed for the base of its skull and made a clean strike as she crested over the monster’s head.
She immediately flew up to circle and see the results of her maneuver, watching as griffin after griffin tore at the wyvern’s head, then went up to follow Wrath. Leslyn and Arlis both leaned over for a better view, stunned by what they were witnessing.
Unable to outrun the griffins, the wyvern flailed its head, struggling to remain stable in the air as it did so. It was only a temporary fix, and the griffins in the line just swiped whatever part of its face was in their path when it was their turn, resulting in several close misses of its eyes.
Several more managed to strike Wrath’s target area, creating an ugly red pool like the ones the creature already wore across its back. Whether from pain or from blood loss, the wyvern shuddered and began to keel toward one side.
She did it. She DID it!
Amazed, Leslyn grinned as he watched the griffins slowly but surely wear the wyvern down.
Wrath’s line was still going strong when the leading griffin attackers suddenly scattered, a red griffin shooting across the line from one side and briefly cutting them off from the green wyvern.
Faltering momentarily in the air, Wrath emitted an indignant shriek as her work was foiled.
The red was followed by several other griffins who formed a shield above the targeted area by flying in formation above it, preventing the line from continuing its purpose. The remainder of Wrath’s company abandoned their line and joined the formation behind her.
All of the new griffins had riders. They’d purposely stopped Wrath’s attack, when it was working so well. Why?
That was when Leslyn looked ahead and saw that the weakened wyvern’s turn had put it on a course straight toward the town.
With a sinking feeling, he looked after the red griffin, who was on an upward swoop in the opposite direction.
As Romo continued the arc of his flight, Koben turned in his saddle to look back, locking narrowed eyes on Leslyn.
The youth turned a glare of his own past Arlis’ back toward Wrath’s head, already regretting several of that day’s choices. Looks like I’ll be taking a message home to everyone, regardless of what happens to Liren.
The town. That was the most important thing just then.
Leslyn’s eyes darted around as he tried to think of something. Anything. Controlling Wrath wasn’t an option, unless…
“Arlis!”
The boy looked back and followed Leslyn’s finger as he pointed across the field to the north.
“We have to lure the wyvern that way, out over the ocean if we can.” He motioned toward Wrath’s head. “Here’s your chance to help. Tell her! She’ll listen to you!”
Arlis nodded, and rustled his hand through Wrath’s feathers to get her attention. “We have to work with Koben,” he called to her, “and get the wyvern out over the water. Then we can knock it down.”
Wrath turned an ear back toward Arlis, but otherwise didn’t respond. Instead, she blasted off the three-note whistle that commanded her company to fall into a line, seemingly determined to resume her previous attack.
Leslyn turned to check. They were obeying this time.
Arlis tried again, leaning forward as far as he could. “You can’t just think about killing the wyvern. You have to think about other things, too. Our job is to keep everyone safe, and if we kill the wyvern too close to town, we’ll be doing just the opposite.”
Laying her ears back, the blue griffin let out an irritated squawk. It was quiet enough that Leslyn was sure she was answering Arlis, and not directing her company. She began to ascend, leading the other riderless griffins up above the green wyvern again.
“You might not care, but I do. Those are my people down there. If the wyvern falls anywhere on that town, a lot of them will die for no reason, and it’ll be your fault.” When she failed to answer, Arlis leaned over and looked down at the wyvern. The small formation of soldiers on their griffins still doggedly guarded the beast’s head. He was certainly aware of that fact, for his voice cracked and took on higher-pitched tone as he shouted, “What are you going to do, attack your own kind? Are you going to kill those griffins down there to get what you want? Are you really that awful?”
Leslyn had already begun to climb further up Wrath’s neck, unsure what foolish thing he would have to do to stop her from carrying out her own will, but resigned to doing it.
“I trusted you!” Arlis cried, pounding his fist against the griffin’s neck. “I talked everyone into believing that you would help us if we let you out!”
That was when another small posse of griffins came up level with Wrath, led by a black griffin ridden by someone wearing a helmet and goggles. There was a crossbow in the rider’s hand, and the hands of every other rider in the formation.
Leslyn turned around at the sound of wing-beats and saw another posse coming up on the other side. They, too, carried crossbows. He noted that two griffins in that second group clutched a net loosely between them.
The lead rider pulled off her goggles, the sudden movement drawing Arlis’ attention away from his tantrum.
It was General Xavara.
She pointed her son toward the griffins across the way, showing him the net.
Arlis looked at the net and then turned back to stare at his mother, uncomprehending.
With a solemn look, she raised her crossbow so that he could see it.
Having restarted his climb upward as soon as he realized her intent, Leslyn’s hand was just about to reach Arlis’ shirt when the boy suddenly threw himself forward, toward Wrath’s head.
“Wrath, you have to stop!”
Ignoring the boy, the magnificent blue griffin looked to the right, then the left, and defiantly blasted off the order to dive.
Leslyn tried to catch up with Arlis, but the boy’s panic propelled him up Wrath’s neck until he was clinging to her ear with one hand and her cheek with the other, looking right into her eye as he desperately shouted at her.
“If you don’t stop, they’re going to kill you.”