With Glebovicha stunned, Kachka looked for the dragon. Of course, he wasn’t hard to find, flying low over the camp in all his massive, scaled glory.
“Take her!” Kachka yelled up at the dragon. “Take her and go!” she screeched.
Black talons came down and snatched Elina up, his wings sending dirt, dust, and air swirling around them all.
Then his great black wings lifted him and he headed off with Elina.
Kachka watched until she sensed movement behind her. She jerked to the side and off Glebovicha as Ivanova’s blade barely missed her.
“Traitor!” Ivanova accused.
And, as Kachka stood tall, the mare she’d bonded with years ago galloping straight for her, Kachka said the only thing she could think of at the moment: “Fuck you.”
Without even needing to look, just using the sound of the mare’s hooves, Kachka reached out her hand and, as the horse moved by, grasped her mane.
The power of the mare dragged Kachka until she could use her legs to launch herself up and onto the back of the horse. Using its mane, she turned the mare and urged her off in the direction the dragon was heading.
Because she knew . . . this was not even close to over.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Celyn had no idea what was going on. He just knew that he was removing a bleeding Elina from his talons with his tail so that he could place her on his back.
“Elina?” he called out. “Elina? Can you hear me, luv?”
She groaned and made a gurgling cough but didn’t answer.
Celyn briefly thought about setting down so he could get a better look at her wounds, but when he looked at the land beneath him, he saw Elina’s sister riding hard across the Steppes. And, behind her, a battalion of Riders coming after them all.
No. He couldn’t set down now. So he continued on, trying at the very least to put some distance between him and those Riders.
For the first time, he saw the true benefit of the small horses the Riders used. Their speed and stamina . . . phenomenal. He’d outraced horses before, but he could not shake these bastards. None of them. Even worse, he could feel blood dripping against his scales. Blood from Elina.
Celyn began to panic. Panic so intense that he almost called out to his family. But what would be the point of that? They were thousands of leagues away and would only get there in time to retrieve his body.
No. He was in this alone. He’d have to fight alone. But he was Cadwaladr, and Cadwaladrs never backed down, never gave up.Celyn felt a tug, his entire body jerking a bit in midair. He glanced around, saw no ropes holding him.
Then he felt another tug. And another. One more.
The last one so powerful, Celyn was yanked off course and pulled in a direction he was unfamiliar with.
Desperate, he tried his best to pull his body back, but something had hold of him.
Celyn looked down and saw that the Riders had turned with him. Elina’s sister still rode ahead and he watched in awe as she turned at the waist and unleashed arrow after arrow at the Riders behind her. He counted six shots that she made—and each one took out a fellow Rider.
Watching the last Rider fall, Celyn also saw that several of them had raised their bows in his direction. Normally, that wouldn’t worry him much. But this time, he could see, even from this distance, that the arrows they were about to unleash were vastly different from normal ones. The heads larger and made of glinting steel.
“Shit.” Celyn again tried to redirect his body, but the power that held him had yet to unleash him.
Three of those arrows rammed into his body, one in the underside of his tail, two on his hips.
Even worse than the pain these arrows caused was the fact that each arrow had a rope attached. The Riders who held the ropes turned and rode toward a small group of short, but sturdy ancient trees, where they wrapped the ropes around the bases of the largest ones.
Celyn kept going until he hit the end of the ropes. One arrow tore out on impact, taking a chunk of flesh and scales with it. But the other two ropes yanked him back. He spun, trying to pull away.
Several of the Riders quickly dismounted and grabbed hold of the ropes—then they began to pull.
Instead of continuing his fight, Celyn decided to wait until he was close enough for his flame to burn all those near.
He was about fifty feet from the ground when he took in a large gulp of air.
The Riders cheered each other on in that language Celyn now regretted not learning, but they were so focused on him that they’d forgotten about Elina’s sister. She’d looped around and attacked from behind, unleashing arrows on those holding the ropes.
Six of the Riders went down. Then another six. By then, though, the Riders who were still on horseback charged the woman. Using only her knees, she steered her horse away, again turning in her seat to shoot more arrows behind her.
The distraction allowed Celyn to get in close and unleash his flame. Screaming, the Riders holding the ropes released their grip, trying in vain to stop the fire that now covered their burning bodies.
Using the tip of his tail, Celyn slashed the last two ropes. Suddenly released, his body flipped back toward the ground, his tail managing to catch hold of Elina’s unconscious body before she was tossed off.
Celyn crashed into the ground, rolling over and over across the grassy land until he clipped a big boulder and spun around, landing on his belly, his arms and legs spread out so that he was sure he resembled a flat star.
Looking up, Celyn watched Elina’s sister ride toward him.
“Get up!” she screeched at him. “Get up now, dragon!”