Jen pounded her mace through the chest of the last construct in her immediate vicinity and bounced back before it exploded. While they had a moment to breathe she looked around for the sorcerer that launched that blast. Whoever it was had saved them all.

She spotted the archmage behind her leaning against the wall. She looked all in.

Jen trotted over. The remaining crystal constructs appeared focused on the wall and would probably remain so until the witch ordered them to shift around. Golden shafts of light rained down on the constructs as they attempted to climb the wall, sending them sprawling. The overall results weren’t that much more impressive than when the warlords knocked them down the old-fashioned way. Their outer shells were just too tough for a regular blast.

“Archmage, you really saved us. Thank you.”

For the second time Jen thought the archmage looked her age. Her skin was pale and sallow, her eyes bloodshot, and she bled from a small cut on her arm she appeared unaware of. The battle was taking a toll on everyone, but the archmage was getting the worst of it. At least they were still alive.

“Glad to help. Unfortunately, I put most of my soul force into that blast. I won’t be much use for a while.”

“And after that?”

She managed a wan smile. “I still won’t be much use, but at least I won’t be in danger of falling over.”

Jen grinned back. There wasn’t anything amusing in their situation, but she couldn’t help feeling a strong connection to the archmage just then. Maybe it was the sharing of danger, or the suddenly vulnerable look in her eyes, but Jen was seeing her as a person and not The Archmage.

“If it’s any consolation my hands are so numb from pounding on those crystal statues I can barely hold my weapons.”

“Oddly that doesn’t make me feel at all better.”

“Here they come!” Marie-Bell shouted.

Jen turned and found ten more demons headed their way. It appeared rest time was over. “If you go into the gatehouse we’ll cover you while you rest.”

“The archangels’ blessing on you. I’ll take that deal.”

While the archmage limped into the gatehouse Jen said, “Form up. Defensive positions.”

The seven surviving warlords formed a curved front blocking the gate. No one groaned or complained, not that it would have done any good. Jen would have appreciated a quip or even some gallows humor, but no one had the strength to spare. At this point everyone’s soul force was so depleted they weren’t much more than highly trained regular soldiers. Still, that little burst they could draw on in a pinch was a major advantage.

Jen took her place at the center of the line beside Marie-Bell. The two women shared a look and nod. They’d been fighting together for so long now no words were necessary. If this was to be their final stand Jen was glad to have the paladin beside her. It would have been nice to see Damien one last time, maybe give Uncle Andy a hug.

The demons were only five feet away. They looked as strong and implacable as when they first appeared at the entrance of the pass. Nothing seemed to bother the constructs.

Two paces away they raised their claws. Jen tightened her grip on her maces, determined to take as many of them with her as possible.

The demons stopped. They trembled in place. One spun around and around like a giant top. What the hell was this? Were they being mocked?

“Jennifer?” The archmage stuck her head out of the gatehouse door. “What’s going on? I sensed a change in the demons’ soul force.”

Jen stepped back from the nearest demon. It showed no reaction, just stood there with its claws raised staring into space. She ran back to the archmage while the others kept an eye on the constructs.

“They just stopped moving. As to why, your guess is probably better than mine. Whatever it is, I’m not complaining.”

“Heaven’s mercy! What is that?” Marie-Bell pointed up into the sky above the haunted lands.

A huge gray shape hung in the air. Massive wings spread to either side for over a hundred feet. A narrow, serpentine head swept left and right.

“It’s a dragon!” one of the warlords said.

What sort of dragon had a pot belly? This one looked like it was about to give birth to twins. Jen’s sword pulsed on her back, a faint vibration steady as a heartbeat.

“It’s Damien.” She spoke barely above a whisper and even then the words caught in her throat.

The archmage stepped out of the gatehouse and put a hand on Jen’s shoulder. “I believe you’re right. Ha! I knew that boy was too tough to die easily. What I don’t know is what he’s doing with that giant construct.”

A warlord screamed and went down under the claws of a crystal demon. Two of the other demons hammered at each other, every blow of their clenched fists sending bits of crystal flying.

“Everybody back!” Jen shouted. “Up on the wall.”

The warlords leapt up from the ground to the battlements while the archmage flew. They landed together and leaned over to watch the chaos. With no human enemies the crystal demons turned on each other, clawing and battering to little effect.

“They’ve gone berserk.” The archmage tapped her chin.

Jen would have given a great deal to know what she was thinking, but movement halfway across the yard drew her attention. Four crystal demons went flying revealing the female warlock in their midst. The woman’s clothes were torn and she bled from dozens of shallow cuts.

Jen grinned. Looked like her pets had turned on her. She didn’t seem inclined to give them another chance. The warlock shot into the air and flew towards the haunted lands before turning south.

“Should I go after her?” Marie-Bell had moved up beside Jen. She stared after the warlock, a look of distaste twisting her lips.

Much as Jen hated letting her flee, they couldn’t spare anyone to chase after her, especially one of their healers. “Let her go. We’ll hunt her down eventually, you can depend on that.”

Her gaze shifted. Damien was closer now. With her enhanced vision Jen could see him standing between the dragon’s wings, Lizzy gripped in his right hand, a pained grimace straining his features. Even from this distance he didn’t look well. A scruffy beard covered his face, and his black tunic hung in shreds. Heaven’s mercy, what had Connor done to him?

A cacophony of shrieks and roars drew Jen’s attention to the skies above the sorcerer’s barrier. The flying demons had noticed Damien approaching. Wings beat the air as they rushed to meet him.

“Can we send help?” Jen asked. “Even Damien can’t handle ten demons.”

The archmage shook her head. “The others are as depleted as I am.”

A quick look down the wall revealed the truth of it. Sorcerers were slumping where they stood. Several appeared to have passed out completely. No help there. If he turned and flew away, maybe Damien could outrun them. Even if the demons returned and finished everyone off, at least her brother would survive.

The dragon opened its mouth.

A blinding flash forced Jen to shield her eyes.

When she lowered her arm all the demons were gone and the archmage looked even paler than before.

“What happened?”

The archmage shook her head. “I’m not entirely certain myself.”

Damien’s dragon hung over the fortress. Every warlord and sorcerer had their gaze trained on him.

“Everybody out!” Damien’s voice was magnified to such a degree it almost hurt her ears.

“Are we just supposed to abandon the fortress?” Marie-Bell asked.

No one was waiting for orders or permission. Those sorcerers still able to conjured disks to transport those too exhausted or injured to walk. The warlords loaded wounded on to them before leaping off the wall.

An explosion from the keep was followed by John and Amanda flying out on a winged horse. They waved once then flew on.

“Let’s go,” the archmage said.

“Do you know what he’s going to do?” Jen asked, not taking her gaze off her brother.

“Judging from the power in that dragon it’ll be something dramatic and we won’t want to be anywhere nearby when it happens.”