A Night of Dragon Wings - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,68

her mouth. The nephil screeched and she pulled it backward, allowing the toddlers to flee. She crashed onto her back, the nephil writhing above her. Lyana pushed her tail down, thrust herself up, and tossed the nephil forward. When it spun toward her, she flamed it and it fell.

She looked around the camp, panting. The battle was over.

The nephilim all lay dead, their corpses oozing pus and black blood thick with worms. Some lay burnt, others slashed with claws, their entrails dangling and their innards bustling with cockroaches. Many Vir Requis lay dead too, a hundred or more; they were torn apart, limbs strewn, heads severed. Some were half-eaten, and their blood stained the teeth of the fallen nephilim. Huts and trees burned, and living dragons flew between them, patting down the flames with tails and wings.

Lyana's head spun. She shifted back into human form and clutched her sword. Her hand trembled and her breath shook in her lungs.

War. War and blood and death again. She gritted her teeth, forcing down the horror. You are Lyana Eleison, Queen of Requiem, ruler to these people. You will not panic. You will not faint. You will stay strong.

A hoarse cry rose through the camp. Lyana drew her sword, for an instant sure a nephil still lived. She looked up to see Gar Miner walk through the camp, the younger of the bronze brothers. He howled and wept, carrying the body of his fallen brother.

"Dead!" he cried. "My brother is dead!" The short, burly miner looked at Lyana and his eyes blazed. "She led them here. Lyana Eleison arrived in our camp, and these beasts followed her." Tears ran down his cheeks. "She murdered my brother!"

He lowered his dead brother to the ground, knelt over him, and wept.

Around the camp, people muttered and stared at Lyana. One man, his arm lacerated, spat and glared. Two young men grabbed spears, and Gar rose to his feet and grabbed a club. They began to advance toward Lyana, stepping over corpses, and blood coated their boots. Lyana snarled and raised her sword.

"You accuse your queen of treason," she said softly. "Come lay this charge before my sword; Levitas will cut your lying tongues from your mouths." She spat toward them. "I've slain more of Solina's beasts in this war than you have thoughts in your skulls. If you accuse me of treason, I will slay you too."

They kept advancing toward her, raising their weapons. Ash and blood covered their faces.

"You are no queen in Second Haven," said Gar. He limped; a gash ran down his leg. "You are a stranger here, and you've brought only blood to this camp. Your blood will be the last shed here."

The men charged toward her.

Lyana growled and raised her sword.

"Cease this madness!" rose a shout over the camp.

A legless red dragon dived down from above, wings raising a cloud of fallen leaves and dirt. Snorting smoke, Dorin landed by the combatants. He shoved his head between them, nudging Lyana away from Gar and his comrades. He blasted more smoke from his nostrils and grumbled. When Gar tried to step around him, Dorin slapped him back with his wing, and the miner's club thumped to the ground.

Dorin shifted back into human form. He lay legless upon the leaves, his grizzled hair and beard matted with dirt and soot. He grumbled and pushed himself up onto his elbows.

"Gar," he said and coughed. Soon his entire body shook as he hacked. "Gar, fetch me my seat. Go, son."

The young miner still shed tears. He looked at Lyana. He looked back at his dead brother, and a sob racked his body. Finally Gar stormed into the wooden hall—half its roof had collapsed—and emerged carrying the mock Oak Throne carved from roots. He placed it upon the forest floor, grabbed Dorin under his arms, and lifted him into the seat.

The Legless Lord sat in the forest, and slowly the Vir Requis of his camp gathered around. Many clutched wounds.

Dorin shouted, voice hoarse. "People of Second Haven! Hear me. Hear your Lord Dorin. This camp is lost; Queen Solina knows we are here, and she will send more of these beasts our way. We must leave this place."

All around, men and women wailed, whispered, and looked from side to side. Gardens lay trampled. Huts lay fallen. The palisades were smashed.

Lyana lowered her head. She knew what these people were thinking.

They spent moons building this place, she thought. They believed their life could spring anew here—a new