A great shadow swooped over the dead dragon, and a remorseless laugh filled the air. Doravan and Amalla looked up to see the Hoarder, chunks of castle stone in his claws.
Doravan paled. Up close, he realized the Hoarder was bigger than the dragon of Shyyda.
Shen’al grunted, dragging Doravan and Amalla into the shadows.
“We have to get out of here,” Amalla hissed. She braced as the ceiling dropped more loose rocks. “This entire structure is going to crumble. It’s holding up immeasurable unstable rubble.”
“And do what?” Doravan pointed at the eerie beam of sunlight coming through the ground. “Get eaten by the Hoarder?”
The Hoarder flew back into view, picked up some of the castle remains, and threw them. A shower of huge stones pelted the remaining castle structure. Doravan inhaled deeply, hoping death wouldn’t hurt badly.
Then it felt like he was sucked into a thick batter. He gasped for air, but no air came. He scrambled and writhed, finally popping out of the thickness and into the air. He sputtered, collapsing to his knees–on the grass.
“What …?”
Two of the Shyyda servants bowed their heads, and one of them spoke. “We phased you through the castle ruins. With the destruction of the castle and our great leaders, we will not last long. Thank you for the reverence you have shown Shyyda, even though we have long been enemies of Mengor.”
“What do you mean, you won’t last long? Come with us,” Amalla pleaded.
The other servant shook her head. “We are ghosts, our spirits tied to the castle. When the Hoarder is done destroying our home, we will move to the life after and be with the God Dragon.”
The other ghost grabbed Doravan’s hand. “You must escape. Soon, Mengor will be the only country on our continent not destroyed by dragon fire. He will come for you, and you must prepare to destroy him, or there will be none of us left.”
Doravan looked over his shoulder and saw the capital of Shyyda below. A handful of citizens had emerged to see the commotion, and now they appeared frantic. Screams rose up from the valley.
The Hoarder grabbed a chunk of the castle and threw it high into the air. Doravan dove for Amalla and shielded her with his body, but no impact came. He looked up to see the rock land on the city, crushing buildings. The screams intensified, and soon doors began to fly open.
Shen’al laid on the grass and spread his wings. “Let’s guide them out of here.”
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“Where? Through The Ganton?” Doravan shoved down the vomit building in his throat and climbed, although shakily, onto Shen’al’s back. He lifted Amalla up behind him.
“The other way,” Amalla said. “Southeast, into Fallhaven.”
“Fallhaven has been deserted for years,” Doravan protested.
“Well, now it won’t be.” Shen’al leaped into the air, and Doravan stifled a curse. “Save your commentary on flight, Doravan. The Hoarder’s going to send us on a turbulent ride. Amalla, watch for me. I don’t want to be crushed by a rock.”
Doravan popped an eye open and watched Shyydians fleeing their capital in swarms. Another chunk of stone sailed through the air and rolled straight though a temple.
Shen’al swooped down by the gate of the city and blocked the road to The Ganton. Shyydians screamed and began to pray, backing away slowly.
“I am not the Hoarder,” Shen’al said. “The Ganton was destroyed.” A loud bang rocked the air as the Hoarder threw another rock, and the Shyydians huddled. “Your castle is gone, your king and your ancient dragon dead. Travel through Fallhaven. You can settle there, or join the Queen of Mengor in fighting the Hoarder of Crowns.”
Some of the Shyydians took off running on the road to Fallhaven. Others whispered and muttered, probably not sure what to believe.
Doravan carefully raised his head to find the Hoarder. The great dragon was right above the city, peering at it as though looking for his victims. Doravan grabbed Shen’al’s neck and pulled. “Get out of here, Shen’al. He’s going to destroy the city now.”
Shen’al spread his wings, and the remaining Shyydians shied away.
“Leave this place immediately!”
A ragged woman raced to Shen’al’s side. “Please,” she said, holding up a cloth bundle. “I may not make it, but I need my daughter to live.”
Doravan’s heart stopped. They couldn’t possibly take a baby on a dragon, but the woman looked so helpless.
Shen’al shook his head. “It wouldn’t be safe to–,”
Amalla held out her hands. “Give me your daughter. Come to the castle of Mengor and you will find her.”
The woman smiled gratefully and gave Amalla the bundle. Amalla cradled it gently, but the moment was soon broken by the thundering of dragon fire. Shrapnel and rubble billowed into the air, and ash exploded in a massive cloud. Doravan turned to tell the woman she could come with them, but she was gone.
“Shen’al, get out of here!” Amalla yelled, holding the baby up to her shoulder with one arm. Doravan tried to tell her that she couldn’t possibly hold on, but another explosion ripped through the air. The blast knocked Doravan from the dragon’s back, and he slammed into a nearby tree. He tried to gasp for air, but his muscles didn’t respond. He was in too much pain to writhe in panic.
Air finally returned to his body, and he sucked in as much as he could get. He lifted his head, wincing at the aching pain in his back and trying to blink out the dizziness in his head. But even after sitting still for a minute, he realized his vision was still gray.
He was surrounded by ash and smoke. The trees had been cut off at the level of the city wall, and Doravan was surrounded by wood and stone debris
Doravan grabbed the tree behind him and stumbled to his feet. “Amalla!” he screamed, although his voice was hoarse and weak. “Shen’al!”
He slumped to the ground. There was no answer.
