wove silk, wrote ancient books and studied the stars. They were an ancient race—their history stretched back as far as Requiem's—and wise.
As a youth, Lyana had read many stories of Confutatis, the White City: how the twins Osira and Osari had founded the city, carving its first bricks three thousand years ago; how Confutatis grew from a simple village of farmers to a great metropolis of towers, amphitheaters, castles, and a million souls; and of course, how the tyrant Dies Irae conquered Confutatis, forged his center of power here, and led the griffins from this place to destroy Requiem, leaving only the Living Seven among the ruins. Confutatis was a city of ancient secrets, of old blood, of steel and light and stone. For three hundred years now, the priest-kings of the Earth God had ruled here, honoring a strong alliance with Requiem—an alliance Lyana was depending on.
And today… today when she needed this city's strength most, she found its walls crumbling.
She still flew several miles away, and shadows still cloaked the world; dawn had just begun to rise. But dragon eyes were sharp, and Lyana snarled. A hundred nephilim encircled the city, tearing down walls and towers with claw and tooth. Arrows rained upon them from the battlements. More nephilim flew above, dipping to claw at soldiers who manned towers or ran along snaking streets. Three nephilim barreled into one of those towers, a great spire of marble and gold; it crashed onto the streets below, burying men beneath it.
Stars, Lyana thought, is no place upon this earth safe anymore? Solina's arm had grown long enough to cross desert, sea, forest, and plains, even to this distant northern city.
She turned to look at the dragons who flew around her. Dorin flew to her right, an old red dragon with no back legs, his wings whistling with holes. At her left flew Gar, the young miner, a burly bronze dragon with fire in his jaws. Behind them flew the survivors of Second Haven: three thousand men, women, and children. Their eyes widened with fear, and they blasted fire.
Lyana raised her voice and cried to them.
"Soldiers ahead!" she shouted, smoke fuming from her nostrils and mouth. "Women and children behind. Battle formations—like we drilled. Go!"
Wings creaking, Dorin snarled at her. His eyes blazed.
"You will lead our last survivors to die upon the walls of a foreign city?" He turned to the dragons behind them. "Dragons of Second Haven! This is not our war. We have come for aid; we find death. Fly back! Back to the forests! To—"
Lyana slammed into him, shoving him into a tumble. He glared and snapped at her, and she pulled back and hissed. Flames sparked between her teeth. She and Dorin circled each other in the sky, glaring and snorting smoke and flames.
"You have played your little games of dominion, Legless Lord," she said, spitting out the last words mockingly. "Yet Confutatis still stands; she is besieged but still fights. We will fly to her aid."
She looked back at the battle. Trebuchets swung upon the city walls, tossing boulders onto the Fallen Horde. One boulder crashed into a nephil, crushing the beast upon the plains like a great insect. Other nephilim still swooped above the city, lifting men from towers and feasting upon them. Arrows thrust out from the creatures, but seemed barely to faze them; their hunger was too great. Some soldiers of Osanna upon the walls, tall men clad in steel, saw the dragons and raised a cry.
"Requiem!" they cried. "Requiem flies to our aid!"
The nephilim screeched, turned, and saw the dragons too. They raised their arms and howled, and a city wall cracked, and the land itself shook. Dozens of the creatures began flying south toward Lyana, Dorin, and the thousands behind them.
"We flee now!" Dorin said, glaring at Lyana. "That is my order; these are my people."
Lyana looked back at the dragons; they hovered in midair, torn between their queen and their new lord. She looked at the nephilim; they flew across the plains, bat wings beating, teeth bared and glinting in the small morning sun.
"Dorin," she said softly. "Dorin, I led your son in battle."
His eyes narrowed. He sucked in his breath. Smoke plumed from his clenched jaw.
"He was brave," Lyana said softly as the nephil horde approached. "He was among the bravest dragons I knew. He charged into the host of phoenixes, and… I could not save him. But he saved me. He saved many."
Dorin hissed and flames shot from