Song of Dragons The Complete Trilogy - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,293

rose around them.

Terra swooped. He had no fire left, but he clawed at skeletons, at mimics, at the dark forces that kept charging. He roared in the night.

KYRIE ELEISON

His griffin plummeted, blazing. The smoke flew over Kyrie, stinging his eyes, entering his nostrils, choking him. He coughed and clung to the griffin. He wanted to shift, and tried to summon his magic, but too many Animating Stones pulsed around him.

"Gloriae!" he shouted. "Agnus Dei!"

Where were the twins? He could see nothing, nothing but smoke, darkness, and the ground rushing up toward him.

"Oh stars," he said, tightened his jaw, and winced.

His griffin crashed into the field, landing atop mimics and skeletons. Bones snapped beneath it. The griffin slid over bodies, snow, and blood, and finally crashed into a fallen log, dead.

Arrows flew.

Kyrie cursed, leaped off the griffin, and crouched behind it. He clutched his sword and gritted his teeth.

"Oh bloody stars, this is bad."

The ground shook. Mimics galloped toward him, centaurs sewn from dead horses and dead women. Their hair was woven of snakes. Their arms ended with bloody blades. They swung those blades at Kyrie.

He crouched, slid through the snow, and hacked at one's legs. He rose and ran, shoving his way between skeletons, bashing them with his blade.

"Lacrimosa!" he cried. "Where are you?"

He saw King's Column rising ahead from smoke and flames. He ran toward it. Hooves galloped behind him, and he turned to see the mimic centaurs chasing him. He cursed, grabbed a spear from a dead man, and tossed it. The spear pierced one centaur's chest. Kyrie ran at the other and clanged swords with it. He ducked, sliced at its legs, and ran.

"Lacrimosa!"

Was she alive? Mimics surrounded him—starfish, centaurs, giants, dogs, bats. He saw no end to them. Dead salvanae, griffins, and Earthen covered the ground. The mimics were feasting upon them, or leaping over them to kill more.

Ten mimic centaurs came galloping toward him from the smoke, bearing lances. Kyrie cursed. He gritted his teeth and raised his blade.

A horn blared. A hundred Earthen leaped from the flames and swung swords.

"For the Earth God!" cried Silva, their High Priest. "Kill the abominations."

Kyrie swung swords with them. Blood spilled and mimic limbs burned. Lightning fell from the sky, hitting more mimics. The salvanae swooped, biting, clawing, killing. Mimic dragons flew around them, tearing them apart with their claws. Blood splattered.

Kyrie glimpsed Lacrimosa ahead, only a hundred yards away. She seemed to glow in the battlefield, her blade bright, her hair sparkling, her face like glimmering marble. King's Column rose above her.

"Lacrimosa!" Kyrie cried again and ran toward her, hacking his way through skeletons. He had to step over the bodies of men, his boot even stepping on one's head. He winced but kept running. Enemies surrounded his queen; he had to protect her.

The skeletons parted before him.

A woman emerged from the shadows.

Kyrie growled. "Umbra."

She gave him a mocking smile and placed her hands on her hips. "Weredragon."

Kyrie knew this one. He had seen her capture the twins in the mine. He had seen her battle Gloriae at the camp. He knew about her chaining down Agnus Dei's hand so that Dies Irae could sever it.

"You might have escaped Gloriae's sword," he told her, "but you won't escape mine."

He raised his dripping blade. Umbra drew her daggers. The skeletons and mimics formed a ring around them, like spectators eager to watch the fight.

Umbra tossed a dagger.

Kyrie parried with his blade, knocking it aside.

Snarling, Umbra tossed two daggers.

Kyrie knelt and raised his blade. He knocked one dagger aside, and the other glanced off his helmet. He ran forward, swinging his sword.

The mimics howled. Umbra slid through the snow, drew two daggers, and crossed them. Kyrie's sword slammed into them, and Umbra twisted her daggers, yanking the sword from his hand. The mimics cheered and Kyrie's heart leaped with horror.

He jumped back, defenseless, as Umbra lashed her daggers. One bit under his arm, grazing him, drawing a line along his ribs. The second dagger hit his raised arm, glancing off the vambrace.

"Are you ready, boy?" Umbra said, smirking.

Kyrie leaped back, dodging her daggers. "I'm not dying yet."

Umbra laughed and winked. "I didn't ask if you're ready to die. I asked if you're ready to become my mimic." She lashed her dagger, nicking his shoulder, and Kyrie cursed. "I will carve you like a pig, and sew you back together into my slave."

Kyrie fell to one knee, grabbed snow, and tossed it at her face. Umbra shook her head, snow