Page 176 of Reign

He rose onto the balls of his feet, straining to see past the helmets ahead. “There are ships—many ships—advancing toward us,” he reported, causing Billy to gasp. Finn clung to my shoulders, trying to stabilize his balance as he squinted. “Some have already been intercepted by our sailors, but at least a handful of vessels are closing in fast. Beyond that, it’s hard to tell—I cannot see too far; the clouds hang heavy over the water.”

I held my breath, anticipation churning my stomach as I waited for Finn to reveal what was disembarking.

Then Finn gasped. “There’re thousands of them!”

At that moment, a ripple of wailing heralded the beginning of the battle.

A swarm of goblins charged onto the beach, brandishing crude weapons: axes, spiked clubs, and scythes. Taking advantage of their short stature, they surged forward, weaving through soldiers’ legs as they attacked. The cries of war merged with the clash of steel as weapons struck armor, each impact ringing out in ear-shattering clangs. Their tactics were gruesome; groups of goblins wrestled men to the ground, bashing in skulls until brain matter splattered across the sands.

High above, as wyverns swooped down, the fae on board unleashed arrows with pinpoint accuracy at the attackers. One elf fired a shot, splintering a goblin’s temple with a single, swift blow.

Finn and I stood rooted amid the tumult—my heart hammering swifter than the heavy rain and my feet twitching with the urge to flee, yet my legs were too jellified to budge.

I watched on, trembling, as a goblin hurled a projectile from a catapult skyward. It struck an unsuspecting fairy, sending her tumbling from the back of her wyvern; her clipped wings fluttered uselessly before her delicate body slammed into the sands, blood splattering on impact.

The riderless wyvern shrieked in anguish as it glided aimlessly—bereft of a master. I knew that if we could mount that beast, we might yet escape the carnage below.

I pressed my fingers to my lips in a vain effort to whistle like I’d seen Fitzroy do, but not even a faint shrill emerged.

“What are you doing?” Finn demanded, keeping an eye out as my gaze remained fixed on the floundering wyvern.

“Whistling,” I replied, reinserting my fingers in another futile attempt.

“What, like this?” Finn asked, then demonstrated an earsplitting tune of his own.

At the sharp sound, the wyvern’s head snapped toward us as it swooped in a breath-snatching dive. Finn darted away, and I hurried after him—fearful that its enormous, outstretched claws might crush me. Instead of flattening us, the creature landed heavily on the sands within reach. For the first time, I summoned the strength to climb onto its neck unaided.

Glancing at Finn, I spotted a horde of goblins bounding toward us, their bared teeth threatening to do all in their power to block our escape. Finn caught my fearful stare and quickly peered over his shoulder.

“By the gods,” he gasped, turning back to grapple with the beast’s spiked spine as he desperately strained to hoist himself aboard. Yet fear had weakened his grip—and I knew I had to stop my brother from meeting a grisly end.

Raising my trembling hands, I cried, “Wesan gan.” Be gone.

Casting my spell upon the advancing goblins, I sent the trio hurtling like scattered pins across the sands.

I extended my still-glowing hand to Finn. “Hurry!” I urged.

He hauled himself onto the wyvern’s neck, and once he was seated behind me, I seized the reins, fumbling with the leather straps.

“You know how to ride a wyvern?” Finn exclaimed, astonishment steeped in every word.

“Not really,” I admitted, securing the straps around my palms. Then I drove my heel into the beast’s neck, and it galloped forward, carrying us away from the carnage below. “Heh!” Higher! I shouted, tugging fiercely on the reins.

Soaring above the ships granted us a clear view of the battle unfolding beneath us. The wild seas tossed enemy and allied vessels alike, while on deck, ogres and soldiers clashed brutally.

As I steered us closer, my gaze darted frantically among the ships for Bash—praying to catch sight of him alive and unscathed. Instead, I beheld a living nightmare: Lifeless bodies bobbed in the waves, while survivors who’d tumbled overboard desperately treaded water, awaiting their grim fate. In the depths, selkies lurked, poised to pounce, while ogres devoured men—dead or alive, maimed or whole—as if they were starving.

An arrow whistled past my face, narrowly missing the tip of my nose. I glimpsed downward to see a goblin with his bow drawn, his aim fixed on us. Another arrow skimmed the wyvern’s snout, spooking the beast into a violent buck that sent it ascending upward at great speed.

Finn’s grip on my torso faltered. “Help!” he cried, his fingers clawing at the wyvern’s scales. Slowly, he slid down, barely managing to catch hold of the creature’s leg as I fought with the reins, struggling to steady us.

Dangling dangerously from the wyvern’s talon, Finn’s weight pulled us askew. The beast shrieked, twisting and bucking to cast him off.

“Hold on!” I shouted, wrenching the reins.

“I cannot!” Finn’s anguished cry tore through the shrieking gale. Glancing down, I saw his hands flushed crimson, veins bulging as he summoned the last of his strength to cling to the claw.

I swept my gaze across the skies, ever alert for an incoming threat. Just as the wyvern steadied, a sudden shift in weight sent us gliding lighter. For a fleeting moment, I caught my breath—only for a piercing screech to steal it away. I looked down, and my heart plummeted nearly as swiftly as Finn, who now free-fell, spiraling toward the ground like a snapped arrow.