Clandestine circle

Commander Durne rubbed his left eye with a sleeve just enough to wipe the blood off his lashes. Wondering, he tilted his head to look up at the thing looming over him. A scream ripped from his throat.

It was the last sound he ever made.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The lookout stationed at Pilot’s Point was the first to spot the fleet of dark ships sailing north into Sanction Bay. He raised a red flag of warning and blew his horn until he was scarlet in the face. Across the broad harbor, another red flag was raised in reply, and a second horn blew its warning to the city. Fishing boats and small craft scurried out of the way as best they could. The City Guard blockaded the streets and set men to defend the piers. Although the guards were few, other men and women joined them with weapons in hand and grim determination in their faces. The guard officers didn’t ask who these people were; they were just glad for the help.

Dark and menacing, the ships came three abreast into the tranquil blue waters of the harbor. The standard of the Knights of Takhisis-the death lily, the skull, and the thorn-flew above the black sails. The first three ships steered immediately for the southern pier and the two smaller northern piers to capture the important landing sites, while the rest of the fleet blockaded the entrance to the bay and disposed themselves around the harbor. A large, flat-hulled barge was rowed into position directly across from the waterfront and anchored in place. Swiftly engines of war were set up on the deck, and catapults began to launch flaming spheres into the buildings behind the docks.

The defenders on the piers and docks and in the streets watched breathlessly as the first wave of shore boats loaded with armored men were launched toward the city. The largest of the attack vessels reached the southern pier, slid smoothly alongside, and even before the ship stopped, the invaders were firing a swarm of arrows at the defenders on the pier.

Everyone was too busy at first to notice the shining dark creature winging out of the smoke and reek of Mount Thunderhorn. Over Sanction he flew, glittering and magnificent, hot with the furious heat of the volcano still in his veins. He spread his wings to their full length, and his shadow soared across the waters. Someone shouted, and the cry was taken up from one end of the harbor to the other.

“A dragon! A dragon comes!”

Bronze in hue, long and lean, he flew over the ships in the harbor, his scales gleaming bright in the noon sun. He winged southward over the blockade, then tipped his wing and circled back. As he passed over the ships blocking the harbor, lightning erupted from his jaws and seared down into the wooden hulls of the black ships. Fire sprouted on the masts, sails, and decks of every ship he struck. The terrified crews jumped overboard.

Without a backward glance, the bronze tucked in his wings and dived into the water, his weight and speed sending a huge ring of waves flowing across the harbor. For a heartbeat, he was underwater, out of sight of the black ships. Then he erupted to the surface beside the catapult barge and, with one swipe of his massive tail, crushed the hull to splinters. The barge sank out of sight in moments. The dragon moved on to the ship by the southern pier and sank it, too, with his tail. Roaring gleefully, he charged out of the water and dispatched more ships with his lightning breath.

The black fleet, or what remained of it, tried to flee in panic, but the dragon would have none of it. Ignoring spears and arrows fired at him, he attacked each ship and crushed it or burned it until there was not a ship left in Sanction Harbor flying the standard of the Knights of Takhisis.

The city defenders stood on the docks and cheered.

The dragon winged lazily around the harbor once, then turned back to the east and disappeared into the clouds of Mount Thunderhorn as quickly as he had come.

Linsha hung suspended in a shadow realm of darkness. She struggled to focus her mind enough to discover what was happening outside her body. What happened to Varia? Where was Ian? But she couldn’t get through the darkness. It clung to her, thick and cloying, and cocooned her in a drifting web of lethargy. She could sense pain, but not really feel it. She could sense heat and thirst, but not enough to pull aside the cloak of darkness.

Something touched her forehead. Cool and gentle, it stroked her skin in a soothing caress. Healing power radiated out of the touch. It wasn’t the mystic power of the heart. It was something far older, more wild, yet it touched the center of her own heart and revived her exhausted reservoirs of energy. The pain subsided to a distant ache. Gratefully she followed the gentle touch out of darkness and slipped into a restoring sleep. In time, the dreams came in slow and vivid visions.