Song of Dragons The Complete Trilogy - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,270

is breached over there. Let's get her out of here."

Five trees crashed into the crowd of mimics, kicking their roots, lashing their branches. Mimics fell and rolled. Gloriae used the diversion to drive between them, clearing a path with her blade. Mimic limbs and blood flew. The other Vir Requis followed her.

She reached the breached palisade. Other prisoners were limping through it. Mimics were leaping onto them, killing those who were too slow.

"Come on, hurry!" Gloriae shouted. She stabbed and kicked a mimic. It crashed against a pile of amputated legs. The bloodied limbs rolled, tripping the other mimics.

"Put me down," Agnus Dei said. "I can run. I can fight!"

"Kitten, come on," Kyrie said. "We're leaving."

Agnus Dei growled. She managed to walk on her own, then run. She leaped out of the breach, holding the stump where her hand had been. Kyrie and Lacrimosa leaped after her, swinging their torches at mimics. Gloriae stayed a moment longer, fighting inside the camp. She saw no other prisoners; they had all fled or died.

She looked up and stared at Dies Irae. He stood atop the hill across the camp, arms crossed—the real arm, and the steel one. He stood three hundred yards away, but it seemed to Gloriae like their eyes met.

She growled. "We'll meet again, Irae. This isn't over."

Then she turned and leaped out of the camp. She ran with the other Vir Requis through the snow, mimics howling and chasing them.

They ran fast, even Agnus Dei. They ran until they lost the mimics between the trees and boulders. They ran until the curse of the Animating Stones faded in the distance.

Gloriae roared and shifted into a dragon. Her wings thudded. Her maw roared fire. She leaped up and flew. Her tail whipped and her fire bathed the world. It had been so long since she had flown. She sounded her roar.

Three more dragons flew up from the forest: Lacrimosa, silver and slim, blowing blue flames; Kyrie, blue and fast, roaring fire; Agnus Dei, a red dragon missing her front foot.

Gloriae dived toward her sister, held her, and helped her fly. The four dragons roared, blew fire, and flew into the clouds. They streamed over burned forests and fallow fields, heading west, heading to Requiem.

Gloriae shut her eyes. We should never have left, she thought. We should never have attacked the mines. Now Agnus Dei is hurt, and we've lost our Animating Stones. What will we do now?

She swallowed, opened her eyes, and looked at her sister. Agnus Dei stared back, wincing, jaw tight with pain. Her wings roiled the falling snow.

"I'm so glad you're alive," Gloriae said to her. That was what mattered, she knew.

Agnus Dei blinked back tears. "I never thought we'd make it out in one piece. I guess I was right."

Gloriae laughed and sobbed. The sun began to set. The dragons flew into its dying beams.

MEMORIA

She flew over plains of ice, bloodied and bruised. The giants had chipped her scales, pummelled her body, and nearly killed her... but she kept flying. For Requiem. For Kyrie.

"Terra, we're almost there," she said.

He flew beside her, grunting. He was hurt, but still he flew, eyes narrowed.

They each wore one of Adoria's Hands around their necks. They had split the Giant King's chain and hung the segments around their own necks. As Memoria flew, she looked at the hands. They were so small, pale, folded into fragile fists. They swayed on the chains like worms on a fishing line. Could such dainty things truly hold back the mimics' curse?

The Ice City was never where she left it. It forever floated on its iceberg, moving with the currents. Finally she saw it ahead, its hundred palaces glistening like crystal shards.

Home, she thought, and the thought surprised her. On the eve of her return to Requiem, did her place of exile become her home? She would miss the icelings, she realized. Old Amberus, with his long beard and wise eyes. Small and silly Gif, only five years old, who would carve ice sculptures with her. Her friends, Illa and Oona, who were shy around Terra and giggly around her. Yes, this too has become a home to me, she thought, and she smiled sadly. The Ice City was cold, lonely, and far from Requiem, but it had been a good home.

"Amberus will heal our wounds," she said to Terra. "And then we'll fly to Requiem. We'll fly to Kyrie. He's alive. I know it."

Terra only grunted, eyes wincing with pain. They dived toward