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The dragon tried to follow them, but it was too large for the streets. It crawled across the tops of the buildings, collapsing them into rubble beneath its weight.
Iryana chucked her staff at the dragon, making sure to keep its interest. Releasing and reforming it was excruciating, but Iryana withstood the pain. Somehow, with the bear’s help, she stayed ahead of it.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, her skin soaked with sweat, and she burned with exertion, but she was so achingly awake. So painfully present.
She was riding an armored bear created by a god as a dragon created by another god chased her.
It didn’t feel real, but she felt powerful.
That was until several streets away, the dragon pulled back and fear sliced through Iryana. But when the dragon took off and circled in the sky, it turned back to the west.
“The badgers must be gone.” She exhaled in shock, then cheered in breathless relief. “We did it!”
The bears roared beside her, and Iryana grinned. Her reckless plan had not only worked, but she had survived it.
“I need to go help fight off the rest of the dakii,” Iryana told them, sending them into a race once again.
She didn’t release her forging yet, because she knew she’d collapse when she did, and she might still need them. But by the time they returned, the dakii had all died or fled.
The soldiers and her clan were staring at her astride the bear as it came to a stop. Iryana slid off and turned to the one who had carried her.
“Thank you.” She touched the armor where its nose was.
The bear gave her another of those intelligent looks, and then they headed back into the woods.
Once she met everyone’s eyes, letting them see she was fine, Iryana stumbled toward her closest clan member, Uncle Dinhal, and released her forging.
Pain rocked through her, and Iryana dropped. She felt her uncle’s strong arms catching her. She managed not to vomit, but she was shaking. It was not quite as bad as when she’d used them before the hot spring, but damn it hurt.
“I’m fine,” she grunted. “Stressed my magic too much.”
Only Pyetar truly understood, so the others seemed comforted.
“And you wonder why I call your plans reckless,” Vaneshta laughed, clearly too relieved to be angry with her.
Pyetar was a different story. He was practically shaking, staring at her as she leaned against her uncle, trying not to pass out. When he finally spoke, his voice was tense. “You can recover at the fort before you head back.”
Uncle Dinhal slipped an arm around her to support some of her weight, the rest of her clan clustering around them. She watched over her shoulder as Pyetar organized the remaining soldiers to deal with all the bodies.
She could barely walk, but she forced herself to limp at her uncle’s side.
Iryana wasn’t the only one who was in rough shape after the fight; Levek had needed stitches, and most of the others were battered and bruised. They had been taken to one of the empty houses along the main road inside the fort, and Iryana didn’t mention that it had once been Pyetar’s. A few soldiers brought them food and a military doctor, who Iryana had forced Levek to allow to stitch him up. Iryana sat off to the side, riding through the pain and trying not to worry the others. When the doctor finished checking everyone, Iryana felt well enough to send him off.
“Thank you for fighting beside me.” Iryana said as she turned back to face her clan members.
“You’re our Third,” Tonhald said, slumped wearily with exhaustion. “I won’t let you stand alone.”
Iryana smiled at her cousin.
“We stand together,” Uncle Dinhal agreed.
Before she could say something else, there was a knock at the door.
“I need to borrow your dragon-wrangling Third,” Vaneshta announced as Iryana opened the door, grinning at Iryana’s clan members and fighters.
Iryana rolled her eyes but checked on the others to make sure they seemed all right. They didn’t seem to know what to do when faced with Vaneshta’s enthusiasm except to acquiesce.
“I’ll be back soon.” Iryana slipped out of the house with her old roommate, donning her blood-stained winter gear.
