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Chapter 37 - Fire and Ice

I duck down beneath Ollie’s spine ridges as a spray of ice and stone showers us. My legs are squeezed tight around his neck, and my hands have a death-grip on his scales—even my wings are wrapped around more of his spines in a desperate bid for extra purchase. My veins are full of adrenaline, and I can feel every beat of my heart pulse throughout my body. I’ve never been so afraid, and so alive.

“OH, THERE, FYRE! I FOUND MORE OF THEM.”

There are shouts ahead of us, and I peek my head above Ollie’s neck to get a look. A group of Jorrians is backpedaling down the tunnel, unexpectedly face-to-face with a dragon. The warriors drop back as mages move to the front, hands and staffs raised.

I collapse the roof on top of them. When I open the tunnel back up again, there’s nothing to indicate the mages had ever been there.

Ollie surges forward, launching an ice beam into the remaining soldiers, then crashes into them immediately after, shattering the wall of ice and all the people that had been inside.

[Level Up!]

Level 24, now. I guess the levels come a lot faster when you’re in a war.

“Keep going, Ollie,” I say. “We need to make sure this passage is clear.”

We’ve diverted down several side tunnels over the last half hour, rooting out small and lost groups of Jorrians, but have now looped back around to the main passage that leads to Fyreneth’s Fortress. Only when I’ve confirmed a side passage is empty do I seal it off, warry of stranding Mirzayael and her guards. It’s slow going, but we’re making progress.

Ollie’s ear twitches. “THERE’S ANOTHER GROUP AHEAD IN A CAVE. MY ICE BEAM CAN REACH. SHOULD I BLAST THEM?” His teeth part, and a white light shines from his maw.

“No! Not until we can see them,” I say. Clearly, verifying before engaging is a practice I still need to instill in Ollie. “But you can charge into the room if you want. Give them a good surprise.” Mostly because it’s completely impossible for Ollie to sneak up on anyone, anyway.

“YAY!” Ollie lopes ahead, keeping his wings flat within the confines of the tunnel. The ground shakes with each of his massive leaps. “I LOVE SURPRISING PEOPLE. THEIR FACES ARE SO FUNNY!”

Rocks and ice scatter before him, announcing our presence seconds before we burst into the cavern. There are cries of alarm—and also cries of relief. I scan the scene as Ollie drops to the floor and lets out a roar, spreading his wings in an impressive, terrifying display. I can feel his giddy excitement across our link, and I use it to direct his attention to the people before us.

Two dozen Jorrians are locked in combat with a group of Fyrethian guards, the latter outnumbered two to one. Both sides have stuttered with Ollie’s appearance—a hesitation I fully intend to take advantage of.

“Ollie,” I start, already imagining what I have in mind.

He understands my plan without me even having to verbalize it. “GOT IT.” He opens his mouth and mentally cries, “ICE BEAM!”

I’m not sure what yelling the words for only me to hear accomplishes, but if it helps lessen the horror of all this, then I won’t be the one to stop him.

The Ice Beam crashes into a ledge of stone above the Jorrians’ heads. They scatter, fleeing the falling rocks and ice, allowing the Fyrethians to retreat toward me and Ollie. I take this opportunity to move the stone beneath both parties’ feet, shepherding the Fyrethians faster toward us as I push the Jorrians away. I glance over both groups to make sure they’ve been appropriately segregated: no Fyrethian left behind.

Then I give Ollie a nod. “Do it.”

He blasts the Jorrians with another ice beam, this time straight on. The people vanish beneath a white light and wall of ice.

“OH!” Ollie exclaims. “ECHO SAYS I LEVELED UP! YAY! I’M 44 NOW. THAT’S A LOT HIGHER THAN MOST OF THESE PEOPLE, I THINK. OH HEY, I HEALED! I’M NO LONGER BLEEDING. THIS IS AWESOME!”

Which is just what I was hoping for. Not that I want to traumatize the kid with so much death, but at least his Ice Beam is a bit more distant—and he gets stronger the more he uses it. If I truly want to protect this child, then I need to help make him as indestructible as possible.

“Fyre!” Nek races toward us. “Thank you! We were trying to hold them off, but more just kept coming.”

“It’s not a problem,” I say. “At least they’re dealt with now.”

Nek shakes his head. “Some got around us and made a break for it. I’m not sure if they knew where they were going, but they were running in the direction of the Fortress.”

Damn. If we didn’t encounter them on the way here, then they either hid and slipped past us, took a side tunnel somewhere into the labyrinth, or had already made it past before we arrived. Either way, there are enemies unaccounted for between us and our home.

I quickly check the progress of the stone conversion: 2% left. Only another fifteen minutes to go. In that case, it’s time for everyone to head back.

“Understood,” I say to Nek. “Ollie and I will go looking for them. Any word from Mirzayael?”

Nek shakes his head. “The Captain and I got separated during the initial assault, and given the tunnels, she could be anywhere by now. The caves also make it hard to track the whereabouts of the other Jorrians; all I can say is that there’s at scores more behind us than ahead. A lot have been wielding ice abilities.”

“Don’t pay the Jorrians behind us any mind,” I tell him. “Protect the main tunnel and hold off the advancing troops as long as you can, then fall back to the Fortress and retreat inside its walls. Pass the message on to anyone else you come across. They need to be back inside the Fortress before we can launch our attack!”

“Yes, Lord Fyre.” Nek turns back to his soldiers. “You heard her. Regroup. Fall back. Hold the line!”

A chorus of affirmation meets his calls, and I mentally nudge Ollie that it’s time to go. He turns and springs down the cave like an excited, two-story tall puppy.

Lord Fyre. The label is still so strange to hear. I’ve always seen myself as an engineer, a scientist, a bookworm. Leader of people? Not so much.

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It’s unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. No matter how undeserving I feel of the position I’ve fallen into, I intend to rise to their expectations. No, not just intend—I’m sure I can.

“Take this side passage,” I tell Ollie mentally so I don’t have to shout over the wind of his movement. I bring up the Dungeon Core’s map of the surrounding caves, and find one wide enough for Ollie. Based on the vibrations in the rock, I can detect a couple of people this way. More still are in passages too small for a dragon, but there’s nothing I can do about that.

“OKAY!” Ollie pivots, nearly flinging me from his neck as Newton’s First Law makes itself known. I cling to his hide for dear life as Ollie mentally giggles, plunging into the cave.

Everywhere we go, there’s signs of a fight. Broken arrows on the ground, scorch marks on the walls. Bodies—but none of them Fyrethian, yet. Mirzayael was right that Fyrethians had the advantage down here. I suspect she’s engaging in guerilla warfare. Good. Whatever keeps the most Fyrethians alive. I press Ollie forward.

It’s another two passages before we find any Jorrians. They hear us coming first and one of them raises a defensive wall of ice. I blast it apart with a Fireball, and then Ollie is upon them. His tail swats the soldiers aside like flies.

Between Ollie’s overwhelming power, the Dungeon Core’s control over the caves, and my strategic direction, we make for a terrifying force. Three more scouting parties are wiped out equally as quick, and I gain yet another level. Good progress, but in the midst of the fights, I realize I’ve missed something bigger. Based on all the vibrations, something is happening at the front gates of Fyreneth’s Fortress. I hurriedly turn Ollie in that direction, hoping I’m not too late.

By the time we find the main battle, both of us are healed, topped off on mana, and flooded with adrenaline. We don’t even hesitate as we crash into the chamber.

In the large cavern just outside the Fortress’s main gates, a desperate battle is taking place. Arrows, spears, and bolts of ice fly through the air. Swords and axes catch the firelight. Dozens of Jorrians and Fyrethians are locked in combat—Mirzayael among them. There are familiar faces on the Jorrian side, too: Biorne and Alis, the human leaders who had come to “treat” with us before.

Fire stirs in my gut as I lock onto Alis. She’s the one who killed Hetlanir. Abducted Mirzayael. All the Jorrians need to go, but the animosity I feel toward her is personal.

Our presence in the chamber does not go unnoticed. Cheers rise at Ollie’s entrance, while many of the Jorrians turn to us in surprise and fear. They’re not unprepared for our arrival, however. Six direwolves peel off from the fight, all making for Ollie.

I feel a stab of fear through our mental link as Ollie falters, memories of the last fight flicking through his mind and into mine.

“Don’t worry,” I tell him verbally and mentally, just so I know he hears me over the dim of the battle. “It will be different this time. I’m here.”

At my order, the Dungeon Core opens a hole in the ground. Two of the wolves tumble through with a surprised yelp as the rest leap over or skid to a stop. I snap the ground shut, and two of the wolves are gone. The rest are too close to Ollie to risk opening another crevasse, but I still send spears of stone stabbing up from the floor like pixelated stalagmites. One stabs through a wolf’s leg, though the others manage to dodge. Howls of pain fill the cavern, adding an eerie, beastly sound to the cacophony. Ollie leans forward and snaps the wolf up in his jaws, abruptly cutting off its cries.

“Good,” I say, whipping my head around to try to keep track of the last three. “Now stay still while I—”

“NO,” Ollie says, his earlier fear chased away by confidence. “I’VE GOT THIS.”

His tail whips out to one side as he launches an Ice Beam toward the other. The wolves dodge his attacks, scrambling back, but now clearly on the defensive. Not giving them an opportunity to counter attack, Ollie lunges forward, snapping at the nearest one.

He’s right. He does have this. And maybe he needs it after his last encounter with the wolves.

“Good job,” I tell him, desperately clinging to his spines as his head whips back and forth. “But I think I’ll only get in your way if I stay on your back.”

He hesitates. “ARE YOU SURE?” I can feel he’s worried about me; I’m so small and fragile.

I smile at that. “I’m the adult here. I’ll be fine!” Then I create another crack in the stone, forcing the wolves back. Ollie drops his head and pauses just long enough for me to jump from his neck. I hit the ground hard, even as the Dungeon Core tries to soften the blow, but I’m on my feet in an instant. And with an activation of Jet, the next instant I’m in the air.

I leave Ollie to finish off the wolves as I rocket toward the fight, my attention everywhere at once. The stone conversion: 99%. More pounding footsteps throughout the caves; are they friend or foe? Mirzayael—where’s Mirzayael—

I catch sight of her with a group of her guards fending off an onslaught of attacks from Biorne and Alis.

Alis catches sight of my approach first, turning and pointing her staff in my direction. I flare my wings, pulling up short and hovering mid-air so I can aim the fires beneath each of my palms in her direction. I summon a Blaze, as intense and as narrow and as fast as I can shape it, and send the beam of fire blasting down on top of her.

Her spell activates at the same time, and our magics clash in the air between us, red and blue lights bursting in a small explosion. I don’t wait for the light to dim or the air to clear. I fire a second shot, and this time it doesn’t meet resistance.

Biorne cries out, and I flare my Jets, darting to where I’d last seen Mirzayael. Not a moment too soon, too, as a wall of ice rolls through the space I’d been just before. From the cries of soldiers beneath me, people on both sides are caught in the ice.

I land next to Mirzayael, stumbling as I cut out my flames and regain my balance. “Are you alright?”

In answer, Mirzayael launches her spear over my head, then snaps her hand back. The magical line of silk attached to the weapon caused the spear to come spinning back to her. She catches it deftly, then launches it at another target.

“Now is not the time for small talk,” Mirzayael says.

I smile. She’s fine.

“Small talk, no, but strategy, yes,” I reply, lobbing a Fireball in the direction I’d last seen Biorne and Alis. The magical smoke from our colliding attacks still lingers in the air, and has settled down into the fight, only fifty feet away. I keep a careful eye on it while taking stock of the current scene. We’re outnumbered.

“How many more guards do we have?” I ask. “Do you know their locations? I met Nek in the tunnels but he was unsure.”

“Everyone is engaged in combat,” Mirzayael says shortly, still spinning, stabbing, and dodging in some macabre ballet. “Six units deployed into the tunnels to slow the advance of the enemy. The rest are here.”

“We need to recall them,” I tell Mirzayael. “I’m minutes away from being ready to launch, but we’ll need to get everyone back inside the Fortress walls, first. I told Nek’s group to retreat, but not the others.”

“I’ll send the message,” Mirzayael says, pausing only to pluck something from her back. The messenger spider glows blue as she activates its runes, then it jumps to the floor and vanishes in the chaos of the fight. Mirzayael activates and deploys the rest she has with her.

“Will those be enough?” I ask, wondering if the fragile little things will even be able to make it through the battlefield.

Before Mirzayael can answer, another wave of ice surges our way. I blast through it with a Fireball big enough to melt through the ice, and my mana plummets. Luckily, I still have hundreds of thousands of Bonus Mana at my disposal, but I’ll need it for later. More accurately, the Dungeon Core needs it.

As the steam still wafts from the hole I left in the ice, two forms stalk through the mist. Biorne and Alis step through. Biorne’s white armor shimmers in the light of my flames while Alis brushes soot off her shoulders. Her hair is singed, but she looks far more angry than injured.

“So,” Biorne says, his gaze landing heavily on me. “You’ve decided to join the fight after all.”

I flex my fingers, running various scenarios through my mind. “I wish I didn’t have to.”

He frowns. “This is the path your people chose. It did not have to end in violence.”

Mirzayael scoffs, and I can relate to the sentiment.

“You’re always free to turn back,” I say. “Retreat now before you endure more bloodshed.”

Alis sneers. “We’re not the ones who need to worry about enduring more bloodshed. You will soon be overwhelmed by our troops.”

If we only intended to fight hand-to-hand, she’d be right. “I take that as a no, then?”

“Forsaken,” Biorne says, “know that it is with a heavy heart that I enforce your sentencing on this day.”

I snort, glancing at Mirzayael.

She rolls her eyes. “What an incredible load of crap.”

“Precisely what I was thinking,” I say.

We launch our attack.