precisely, but then neither was it moving at anything close to full speed. Titus was fine with that relatively sedate pace until a scout called out, “More armored chariots on the way!”
But they had trouble from closer quarters too: several squads of wyvern riders swung by, their flight low, their gaze on the ground.
Titus swore. He raised his voice. “My esteemed friends from Atlantis, especially those of you who have met your Lord High Commander in person, have you ever wondered why he does not seem to age? Why, in fact, he sometimes seems to grow ten years younger overnight? Even by the most conservative of estimates, he should be a man well into his seventies. How does he not look a day over forty?”
The wyvern riders, forgetting their task, turned sharply toward the bell jar dome.
“It is because he is using a young man’s body, one that bears a striking resemblance to his original body, before he threw himself down the hideous depths of sacrificial magic. That original body cannot ever be seen in public, as it is missing major limbs, perhaps the eyes and ears too; such is the cost of sacrificial magic.
“In all the long years of his reign, he has made it a point not to publicly disseminate his image. The official reason is that he never wishes to encourage a cult of personality. But conveniently enough, if the wider mage world does not know what he looks like, then it would not wonder why men who resembled him kept disappearing.
“Think about it next time you are asked to risk your life for him. Think about it now. Why does he want my friend the young elemental mage? It is because powerful elemental mages make the most potent sacrifices and will best invigorate his life force. Is this what you want to do? Fight to the utmost of your ability so that he can commit acts despised by the Angels?”
Unfortunately, not every one of the wyvern riders was riveted by his speech. One screamed at the top of his voice to alert his colleagues that a bewitched spear was on the ground and only a quarter mile away from the bell jar dome.
Instead of attacking those who had spotted the bewitched spear and were now diving toward it, Fairfax set up a much more elegant defense. Drawing on her command of lightning, she constructed a moving tunnel of electricity through which the spear passed unmolested.
A furlong. One-sixteenth of a mile. A hundred fifty feet. The spear came ever closer.
Titus’s heart lodged in his throat.
The tip of the spear struck the bell jar dome; the entire dome shuddered.
The nearest pair of scouts yelled in jubilation and shot forward, only to be stopped by a barrier that was very much still in place.
CHAPTER 3
“SHOULDN’T THE DOME HAVE DISINTEGRATED?” shouted Fairfax.
It should have, if Titus was right about blood magic having been applied to the spear.
Of course.
“Blood. I must put a drop of blood to the dome!” He fished for his pocketknife as he nudged his carpet forward.
She reached the dome the same time as he did and set her hand on it too. He felt a thrumming sensation in his palm, and then nothing but air.
Immediately he threw up a shield for her. She did the same for him—and not a moment too soon, as the wyvern riders aimed a barrage of spells at them.
“You should have been putting up shields for yourself,” he admonished her as they flew higher. “How many times have I told you not to bother with me?”
“What? And assume the shields you’ve set up for me aren’t strong enough? Besides”—she leaned over and rapped him on the head with her knuckles—“have you forgotten that there is no Chosen One? You are no less important than me in this—or anything else.”
“I have not forgotten that.” He took her wrist and kissed the back of her hand. “I speak not for the mission, but for myself.”
She sighed. “And what am I going to do without you?”
For a fraction of a second, his prophesied death hung between them, a shroud that marked the end of everything. The next moment, she swung around and let loose a wall of fire.
Ordinary fire could not harm dragons. The wyvern riders, however, still dodged instinctively. It was a good tactical move on her part, but a less sound one strategically: now the Atlanteans once again knew her exact location.
But if anything, the wyvern riders drew back farther, the memories of