“Damien!” Jen shouted after her brother again. He ignored her, racing off to do something very brave and stupid.

She drew on her depleted soul force and sprinted after him. Despite her speed Damien pulled away from her.

She dodged spruce trees that seemed to appear from nowhere, her accelerated senses allowing her to make decisions ten times faster than a normal person. What was he thinking, trying to take on a dragon on his own? They should gather reinforcements, especially more sorcerers, and make a proper counterattack.

Jen leapt an eight-foot boulder. But if they did that they’d lose the forces fighting in the central pass along with General Kord, who almost certainly had led the soldiers himself. Damien must have realized that as well.

Idiot!

A tear froze on her cheek. If anything happened to him… No, she wouldn’t allow anything to happen to him. She was his big sister and it was her job to keep him safe, even if he didn’t think he needed to be kept safe anymore.

A line of retreating soldiers streamed past her. She was moving so fast most of them didn’t even notice her. In the sky above, Damien had come to a stop. He floated, facing toward the pass, still a mile away. In front of him golden energy gathered. He wasted no effort disguising his conjuring.

She clenched her teeth and ran faster. She had to get to him before he released his power. If Damien gave it everything he had there’d be nothing left to hold him up.

She was still a hundred yards short of her brother when a thunderous explosion shook the ground. The energy he’d summoned crackled like a lightning bolt toward the pass.

Damien fell.

He had no power left to stay in the sky.

She gathered herself and leapt. As she flew toward her brother she glanced into the pass in time to see his attack slam into a massive dragon made of ice. It roared louder than the explosion, bits of its body flying in all directions.

Damien thudded into her arms.

He groaned. “Hey, sis. I think I overdid it.” Then he passed out.

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She landed in the snow, turned, and sprinted toward camp. There’d be healers there. Someone could do something for him. Jen ran so fast a wake of snow rose and fell on either side of her, washing over the occasional group of soldiers she passed, their shouts and curses drowned out by the wind in her ears. She dodged the sparse trees and weary soldiers with equal indifference. Her only thought was to get Damien to the healers as fast as possible.

A couple minutes later the first tent came into view. “Hang on, little brother, we’re almost there.”

Damien gave no sign he heard her. He lay in her arms, limp and still. If not for the rise and fall of his chest she would have thought he’d died. She clenched her jaw and headed toward a sprawling white tent with a red cross on the side. Wounded soldiers in torn armor surrounded the tent. Jen shouldered her way through them.

“Hey!” A big bald man with an arm hanging limp at his side grabbed her and spun her around. “What do you think you’re doing, cutting to the front of the line?”

Jen narrowed her eyes and snarled. “Take your hand off me or you won’t need a healer.”

Whether the look in her eye or the cold tone she used, something made the wounded man take a step back and raise his good hand. The others must have noticed the altercation because when she turned around a path had opened for her to the front of the tent. Jen hurried inside.

Dozens of cots filled the inside. Healers of all sorts, both mundane and sorcerers, tended moaning, groaning, and bleeding soldiers.

The stink of blood and death almost overwhelmed her.

Six cots to her right, John Kord knelt beside a wounded woman, his hands glowing as he sealed a gash on her side.

“John!”

He turned his handsome face in her direction and his eyes went wide. John and Damien had been close when they were little and her brother mentioned they’d gotten reacquainted at the tower. He finished with the woman then ran over to them. “What happened?”

She told him as they walked over to an empty cot. Jen laid her brother down and John made a pass with one hand over his chest. He nodded to himself.

“Well?” she asked, a quiver in her voice.

John smiled. “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. Channeling that much soul force all at once exhausted his body. It looks like he used a little of the energy he needed to maintain his life functions, which explains why he passed out. He’ll be sore as hell for a few days, but other than that I don’t expect any lasting impact.”

“How long until he wakes up?”

John shrugged. He didn’t seem at all worried, which set her mind at ease. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Can I stay with him?”

“Sure, grab a stool. I’ve got to get back to work. Hey, when this is over we should get something to eat.”

Jen shook her head. He never failed to ask her out when they met, and no matter how many times she turned him down he kept trying, even in the middle of a war. She had to respect his persistence. “I’ll pass.”

He sighed, apparently having expected her reply. John left her alone with Damien. Jen glanced around and found a forgotten three-legged stool half hidden under a torn cot. Not ideal, but it was better than standing. She settled down beside her brother, took his hand, and closed her eyes to try to nap until he woke up.