“Fire at will!” Edana snapped, raising Poker.

Hattie began to sing, charging the lightning spell she’d learnt from Frances. Beside her, walking at a fast pace, Edana was screaming her spell. It turned the eye of veteran soldiers, much as the dragon-shaped helm that the legendary mage wore.

A pillar of fire shot toward the two dragons arching through the sky. They’d been spitting their venomous breath down on the walls of the Second Terrace. The crackling flames, so hot that Hattie could feel the heat sting her cheeks, split the pair up and sent them scattering.

Down in the trenches that snaked through the city, Edana continued to move, firing smaller bolts all the while. Wings flapping with a hurricane-like fury, the larger dragon broke off, trying to increase the range.

The smaller of the two dragons looped around to dive toward them, but Hattie had finished her spell just in time. A flash of searing blue-white ripped across the sky, slamming into the dragon.

“Edana, look out!” Hattie screamed, breaking into a run, as the dragon screamed, plunging down toward them. The beast’s flight was not controlled but it wasn’t entirely wild. It was however, driven by an incensed rage and pain that deafened those in range.

Edana, either having heard Hattie’s cry, or more likely, seeing the diving dragon, ran with the half-troll. Following the trench, they glanced over their shoulder at the rapidly approaching fire-spitting hurricane of scale and claw. The dragon now levelled out, and now tore over the trenches, breathing fire over everything underneath it.

Firing bolts of magic desperately over her shoulder, Hattie knew some of her spells were just plain missing, but she didn’t know what else to do. She could hear the screams and yells of soldiers caught by the venom.

Turning back to the front, she found Edana had stopped. The woman had turned, raised Poker and was singing.

“Hattie, calm down! I’ll cover you, hit it again!” Edana snapped, before she continued into her song. The wailing cacophony arrested Hattie’s run, just enough for her to turn around. Raising Silver Star she took a deep breath, filling her lungs with as much lifegiving air as she could.

The song she sang was similar to the one that Frances taught her to focus her attention, and yet Hattie found herself making her own flourishes. Her voice after all, was not quite like Frances’s. She found herself choosing a slightly higher timbre and a faster pace. As the notes built, she felt her heartbeat steady, even as the dragon neared. It dodged Edana’s firebolts, and when the occasional blast of flame did hit, the impact only shuddered the dragon, but didn’t stop its charge

The great wyrm opened its mouth and Hattie cast her spell. Her lightning reached out like a great wicked hand, shining so brightly it bathed the trenches with white light. The ivory fingers zig-zagged and slammed into the dragon, catching it like a ball.

Yet even as the dragon wailed, tears streaking from its eyes, plunged toward the ground, it didn’t stop. It careened toward Hattie, reaching out with its right front claw, which was broken.

“Yolandra!” The dragon that had pulled away swooped down, wings extending so suddenly winds buffeted Hattie and whipped Edana’s robes all around her. The dragon seized the smoking form of her sibling and flapping furiously, retreated.

“Don’t let them escape!” Edana hissed. Waving Poker, searing jets of flame tore toward the dragons. Yet they were just too fast. Two slammed into the wings, and tore holes into them yet the dragons barely made it over the Second Terrace’s wall. Edana made to run toward the wall, but Hattie grabbed her sleeve.

“Grandmaster, we need to be careful. They still have three other dragons,” said Hattie.

Edana blinked and nodded. “Hm, thank you, Hattie. Still, let’s see what we can do to turn this battle around. Follow me.”

***

Bubble shields up, Edana and Hattie managed to get onto the walls, firing back at harpy snipers and mages as they did so. It was then they spotted a very large Erlenberg banner of a hybrid serpent-ship and a mass of musketeers, soldiers and even a mage surrounding it. The group were clustered over the gatehouse, ducking behind the merlons as they returned fire. A troll was directing them.

“Alexander, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the command post?” Edana hissed, running up to the group.

Hattie blinked as surrounded by his guards, Ayax’s adoptive father grinned.

“Good to see you Grandmaster. We’re counterattacking. Can you and Hattie clear the area in front of the terrace?”

“Counterattacking?” Hattie stammered.

“Yes. Time to sweep those skirmishers on the ground away. Hattie you probably are going to be better targeting the harpies.”

“I’ll deal with the ground troops then. Whose—” Edana looked over her shoulder and whatever she saw made her eyes widen. “Nevermind.”

Hattie glanced behind her and saw why. Behind the walls ran a road leading to the gatehouse and a column of cavalry were massing. At this point in the war, horsemen were no longer armoured from head to toe. Still, these cavalry still had cuirasses and wore plumed full-faced helms in addition to more modern equipment such as carbines and pistols.

As she fired off spells at the harpies, Hattie remembered the armoured horsemen had been with King Jerome and Queen Forowena. She’d wondered what had been the point of bringing cavalry in a siege battle, but now she supposed she had her answer.

Already, the skirmishing forces just beyond the ramp were scattering, running from the explosive barrage brought to bear by Edana’s magic. Hattie had just forced a pair of harpies to retreat when a long, noble-sounding blast of a horn cut over her singing.

The gates to the Second Terrace swung over and the Erisdalian horse thundered through. Already Hattie could see Thorgoth’s skirmishers breaking into retreat. The grumble and rumble of horseshoes slamming into the dirt rose like an orchestra.

She wasn’t sure why but Hattie focused on firing at the harpies overhead. It wasn’t fear, or shame. Hattie just knew the carnage that was being inflicted on the soldiers on the ground and she had no need to see it.

***

There was a lot of cheering, and back-slapping as the Erlenberg division and the Erisdalian cavalry rotated back to the Third Terrace to rest, replaced back with the Erisdalians once more.

“Well that went well,” said Frances after she hugged Edana, having reunited with her mother in the old Goblin Empire’s palace. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Morgan and Hattie talking, sheltered by the palace gallery.

“Yes, though, maybe a bit too well. They only committed two of their dragons,” said Edana. Still she managed a smile. “We made them pay today, though. They won’t try to skirmish with us so readily next time.”

Timur coughed, getting Edana and Frances’s attention. “I also got some good news from my sister. With Thorgoth pulling troops from Alavaria, she’s actually able to muster her forces more swiftly. She will be able to ride out with a eight-thousand strong cavalry force to hit Thorgoth in the rear in a week.”

“That is good news,” said King Jerome, approaching the group. “And the Lapanterian reinforcements are arriving in a few days. They should be going past Kwent and entering the Greenway about now.”

“Something’s not right.”

All eyes turned to Queen Forowena, who was biting her finger, one hand curled tightly around her sword pommel.

“Edana, Hattie, are you sure you only saw the two dragons?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“You don’t think the remaining three went for Athelda-Aoun?” Eloise asked, the centaur’s hooves pawing the ground nervously.

“I’m not so sure. The crevasse is quite narrow and we did leave a small garrison there with cannons pointed directly at the thing,” said Anriel.

“That and we shielded it too. It won’t hold the dragons but it will slow them down enough for the cannons,” said Edana.

“More importantly, there’s nothing of strategic value at Athelda-Aoun,” said Forowena. With great effort, the queen forced her fingers to release her sword. Waving that hand, as if trying to wring the stress from herself, she muttered, “Sorry, please ignore me. I’m being paranoid.”

Walking past his councillors, Jerome gently placed a hand on Forowena’s shoulder. “My dear, there’s no harm in expressing that concern and if you’re right, then we can act on it.”

The raven-haired woman smiled briefly at her husband’s touch. “Jerome, I’m worried we’re already too late. The only reason Thorgoth would not send all of his dragons at once is because he is using them for something else. He has to be attacking another location, but where?”

“He can’t have gone after Titania’s forces, her forces aren’t mustered yet and she’s being very secretive as to where,” said Timur.

From the corner of her eye, Frances saw her Otherworlder colleague, Nicole suddenly straighten. The Queen’s long-time aide and Jim’s girlfriend slowly pushed her way past the various advisors to whisper something into Forowena’s ear.

Whatever it was, it was loud enough that Jerome reeled back as if he’d been stung. “Fuck! Contact the Lapanterians now!”

Edana blinked “Wait, why are we contacting the Lapanterians—Oh no.”

Forowena stiffened. “Hold on, someone’s calling me,” she said. Reaching into her uniform’s pocket, she pulled out a hand mirror. “Ah, King Sebastian, just who I wanted to… Oh no.”

Frances sneaked a peak over the queen’s shoulder and bit back a gasp.

The former prince was older than Frances remembered and had a haggard look. It didn’t help that ash and soot coated Sebastian’s light-brown hair. In plate mail that was stained with dried blood, the noble wore no crown. On his shoulder, rested a sleeping, familiar woman with a cleft lip, frizzy red hair matted with sweat.

“Dragons?” asked Jerome.

“Dragons. Two of them, with Queen Berengaria and a flight of harpies. I fucking should have figured that they would do this.”

Forowena closed her eyes. “It’s not your fault. It didn’t occur to any of us.”

“What happened exactly?” Jerome asked.

Sebastian pursed his lips. The adrenaline from the fight he’d been in had seemed to wear off and he looked utterly exhausted. His words were slightly slurred, as if he was drunk. “A shit parade. They caught us between the road from Kwent and the gateway into the Greenway. I don’t think they intended to destroy us, but they wanted to cause panic and inflict as many casualties as possible.”

“They probably chose to attack you near the Greenway’s entrance for that reason,” muttered Forowena.

“Yes. The Otherworlders we have, the Singh brothers mainly, held them for a time. However, the combination of harpies and dragons caused our army to panic and flee for the Greenway.” Sebastian shuddered, wiping his eyes in a futile effort to dry his tears. “Dragons used the opportunity to roast our soldiers along the road.”

Jerome swallowed. “There’s a fully operational hospital at Athelda-Aoun, rest there. We can hold—”

Megara’s eyes fluttered open, and she flashed a humorless smile. “We appreciate your courtesy, King Jerome, but we know that we can’t afford to wait. We’ll be there, with the remainder of our army.” The healer straightened with a grimace, made more severe by her lip. “We’re still counting. Of the ten thousand we brought, I know less than half escaped and there are quite a lot of wounded.”

“If you had to estimate?” Forowena asked.

The Queen of Lapanteria made a face and tried to dust off the ash mixed into her hair. “If I had to—fuck this is going to take forever to get off—if I had to estimate…Sebastian, I assume wi’ll have to reorganize some formations, right?”

“Yes. We’ll have to disband the tattered units and fold them into larger surviving ones,” said Sebastian.

Megara nodded. “Alright, so we still have the fifteen Otherworlders with us including our five mages. As for forces, that’ll be two brigades worth of cavalry, and one and a half brigades worth of combat-effective infantry.”

A chill ran through the group. All knew what that meant.

“That’s…three thousand five hundred soldiers out of ten thousand.” Jerome groaned. “Oh Amura and Rathon.”

“Though, I’m going to be honest, I’m not sure how combat-effective those troops will be if they see six dragons.” Sebastian sighed. “I know I’m going to be seeing those flames in my dreams.”

“We killed one.” Frances said suddenly. Jerome and Forowena glanced at her as she stepped into view. “Sebastian, tell your troops we have killed one. They can be killed and defeated, just like Thorgoth can be.”

“You’re that certain, Frances?” Megara asked, eyebrows rising into her hair.

Frances allowed hesitation to freeze her tongue for but a moment, before she declared, “I can’t be certain, but I know that we are not going to go down without a fight.”

“Here here,” said Forowena, clapping Frances on the shoulder. “Megara, there’s a full hospital in Athelda-Aoun that we stocked up in case of an emergency.”

“Thank you. Good luck and we’ll see you in a few days,” said Sebastian. Their images vanished and an oppressive silence settled back onto the commanders of Kairon-Aoun.

***

Morgan and Hattie glanced at each other as they stood in front of the temporary shelter Frances and Timur were living in.

“After you,” said Hattie, tilting her head.

Chuckling, Morgan rapped her knuckles on the door, which promptly swung open.

“Hattie, Morgan, is something the matter?” their teacher asked, rubbing her eyes.

“We’re just wondering how we can help.” Looking past the door frame, Hattie noted the chaos of documents all over the floor and table. “You’ve been studying these papers for like, the entire day.”

“What are these documents anyway?” Morgan asked.

Frances briefly checked the armour she was wearing and closed the door behind her. “They’re copies of King Alan’s journal and how he, Yalisa and Moragon cast the spell that created the summoning system. It was the world’s first recorded instance of True Magic and I’ve been trying to replicate it.”

“Do you want us to help you go through it?” Hattie asked.

“Thanks, but I think I’m done going through dusty tomes for today.” Taking a breath, Frances smiled and rolled her neck from side to side. “Is there anything you both would like to do?”

Frances’s eyebrows rose as Morgan bowed her head and Hattie glanced at her friend. “Mom, I’d like to try to attune to one of the other stones.”

For a moment, the petite woman’s smile seemed to still. Her lips didn’t freeze in place, but she did hold her breath.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Morgan blinked. “You’re alright with it?”

Frances shrugged, but her smile also widened. “Not completely, but if you wish to then I will do my best to help you.”

The harpy-troll swallowed. There was always something so comforting and yet scary that her mother so completely respected her wishes.

“Thanks mom. Where should we do this?”

“The market place we were training at is quiet. Let’s go, while we still have some quiet.”

***

Beads of sweat formed on Morgan’s forehead, dripping down her cheek as she focused. Her adoptive mother stood in front of her, humming softly. Ivy’s Sting wove a figure-eight pattern over Morgan’s glowing right arm, which the young girl was holding.

“This isn’t working,” Morgan hissed.

“Unfortunately no. Do you feel any pain?” Frances asked, grimacing.

“Just a lot of magic? Energy?” Morgan shook her head. Her right forearm felt like it was getting a horrible sunburn not just on the skin, but all throughout. It tingled and stung as a whining whuh-whuh sound filled the air around the pair. “Mom, let’s stop this. I think we both need a break.”

“Alright,” said Frances. Letting out a sigh, she let her arm fall to her side as Morgan wrung out her right arm. “Do you feel any different?”

Morgan shook her head. “Nope. I’ve been trying and forcing myself to focus on that stone. I think I can even grasp that bloody thing with my magic, but it just doesn’t do anything, not even with you trying to pour magic into it to activate it.”

Hattie piped up. “Do we know how the central-most stone was attuned to Morgan?”

“I think the answer to that lies in when it was attuned,” said Frances. Her arms crossed, she began to pace. “That would have been marked by when you started to get better control over your magic.”

“It was probably after you met Lightbreaker then,” said Hattie, crossing her arms as well.

“And after you and I had that talk in the pantry,” said Frances, a deep frown on her face.

Morgan blinked. “Maybe…it was after we had that talk in the kitchen. You know, the day you adopted me.”

Frances and Hattie exchanged a glance, their eyes wide.

“Magic is linked to emotion, you taught me that, Frances,” said Hattie.

“Yes, and after that night, I don’t think Morgan ever lost control of her magic again.”

“But I thought it was because I was happy,” said the princess. She made a face, one eyebrow arching quizzically. “Is it really that simple?”

The meaningful amber and dark-blue eyed looks that Morgan found herself on the receiving end of brought a sheepish smile to the harpy-troll’s face. “Okay yeah, it isn’t that simple, but how do we do more? I mean, I’m happy.”

Frances looked up at Kairon Aoun’s dark ceiling, eyes closed. A tension seemed to creep up her feet into her arms, shoulders and face. It strained her expression and tightened the ends of her lips. Morgan and Hattie did not like how she looked, and they liked it less when she opened her eyes and met their gaze.

“The times that I managed to cast True Song Magic, the times that my mother made her most powerful spells had something in common.”

“Why do I feel that none of us are going to like that answer?” Hattie asked.

“We were all in incredible danger, or trying to protect someone we cared deeply about,” said Frances.

Morgan groaned, “Fuck. So you have to put me in danger?“

“I don’t know, which is why we are not doing it. It’s too risky, especially if we can’t even isolate that as the cause,” said Frances.

“That and didn’t King Alan, Yalisa and Moragon cast True Magic without a present danger?” Hattie asked.

“They were facing the looming threat of the Goblin Empire,” said Morgan in a matter-of-fact tone. Walking over to her bag, the princess started rummaging through it. “Well that’s a bust, we might as well do something useful if we are out here.”

“What do you have in mind?” Frances asked.

Metal battle claws clinked against one another as Morgan fished them out from her pack. “Well, I honestly haven’t had much practice with these, want to spar?”

Frances blinked, but finding herself grinning, she slowly drew Alanna. “No magic?”

“No magic,” said Morgan.

“Cool, let me just blunt our blades and claws first,” said Frances.