The other went still, and she said, blue eyes foreshadowing the end of times, “Let Fallon live up to her name.”
Chapter Forty-Six
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Nakoa ran through the streets, Fallon and Laire on either side. Fallon was running at a pace he had trouble keeping, while Laire floated across the ground instead of running. The question of Laire’s magics flicked across his mind before it was pushed aside, unimportant, the only thing which mattered was getting to his sister.
In concert, both Laire and Fallon’s arms shot out in front of him, bringing their trio to a halt. “What?”
“The Dream Crafter has broken the veil,” answered Laire, the words not so much an answer to his question as an observation that happened to be spoken aloud, wonder and fear mixing in equal parts within that voice. Fallon didn’t answer. Instead, she kept looking around, hunting for something.
“My sister, is she hurt? Is that what happened?” He couldn’t lose her. Not now, not when they were so close.
Laire shook her head. “I can’t tell, but something big happened for her to finally crack.”
A wild, echoing shriek made up of every horrifying, nightmare inducing sound surrounded them, and in lighting speed – impossible to believe for such a large creature – a dragon landed before them, the earth shattering underneath the weight, and only long training kept Nakoa balanced and upright.
Fear, visceral and sharp, pushed through him as the creature lowered its faces, neck elongating to take in the humans. Before it, he was an ant in front of a skyscraper.
Animal cunning shone sharp in the narrowed gaze, and its snout opened to release that terror-inducing scream.
“Wrong choice of guard dog.”
Fallon’s dispassionate words had Nakoa bringing his attention to the swordswoman. She was calm in the face of the creature…
No, there was nothing calm about the way those eyes were lit or the small curve of her lip. This was excitement carefully concealed, this was thrill and release, and one fraction of the fear the berserker held for the creature in front of him shifted to encompass the woman at his side.
At the unexpected reaction, Nakoa turned to Laire. She was not as carefree as Fallon, her body strung tight enough that a touch might shatter her, but she held her face blank. “Amana is tracking down all enemies. It seems she doesn’t like us.”
“Who does?” Fallon began to move towards the beast, calling out without looking back, “Get to Amana. I’ll take care of this.”
“You can’t go after it alone.” Nakoa made to move forward, but Laire’s hand on his arm stopped him. He pulled at her hand, but she was surprisingly strong, her grip secure. “You’re going to let her fight a dragon by herself?”
“Considering she’s called the Dragon Slayer, it’s time she put up or shut up.” Fallon’s sword was in her hand and a glow emanated from the sword, infusing into Fallon. A scrollwork of fire tattooed itself into her skin, and Nakoa half-shielded his eyes over the sudden burst of light that flared from her weapon. “You and me got to take care of your sister before she destroys life as we know it. So, priorities.”
Laire seemed sure of the path they were running, no hesitation in the tiny woman as they dodged empty cars strewn through empty streets, hard broken asphalt that turned into soft sand, his feet depressing into the give, slowing him down. Nakoa turned around, searching a familiar beach instead of a destroyed city. “Amana, where are you?”
“Oh gods damn.” Laire’s breathy curse turned Nakoa, and his baby sister was sitting in the sand, the bloody, broken body of the mercenary beside her, his head in her lap and her hand on his bleeding chest.
Laire started walking, her gait even and steady, her eyes trained on Amana while she spoke to him. “Do you know why Dream Crafters don’t exist anymore?”
“What?” What the hell did that have to do with anything?
Her voice was the steady tone of a professor in school, nothing in her manner showing any surprise or fear over their predicament as she walked forward, straight for his sister, in the sand that was taking over a city, with an ocean forming a stone’s throw away. “Absolute power corrupts absolutely, right? It’s got a bit of truth to it, but overall its bullshit, at least the way it’s used most times. Petty kings with a few subjects they can rape and murder at will are nothing. True power, the human mind isn’t able to comprehend or absorb. Magic has limits, power has limits. Make them limitless, and it will drive a human beyond madness to horrifying depths.”
Amana sat at wrong angles, her body stiff and weird like a brand-new doll that a doll maker strung wrong. The effect had a chill running down his spine, a chill he felt even through the haze of the berserker which clung to him. “And Dream Crafters are limitless?”