"Do you see them?"

  "I see them, Verk." Even with the moon hidden behind a cloud, a dragon was hard to miss as it took flight towards the distant campfires.

  A shiver seemed to go through the huddled group of wildlings as Aytin gave the whispered confirmation. It was time. There was no turning back.

  They were going into battle.

  Dragonettes rose, rubbing feeling back into stiff muscles. Further back in the creekbed, Faelon stirred, but remained hidden. A dragon approaching the keep, even daubed in mud and cloaked in darkness, would be too risky. It would be up to the dragonettes to clear the keep of whoever was left.

  "Alright, everyone." Aytin's voice was hushed, pitched just loudly enough to be heard over the soft breeze and insect calls. "Get ready. As soon as they're out of sight, we move."

  "Actually, we might have a problem."

  Verk's voice was barely a whisper, but everyone heard her nonetheless. Her words hit Aytin like a slap in the face.

  "What?"

  "There's only four of them."

  "Four...?"

  "One riding the dragon, two flying above, and one below."

  "You're sure?" But Aytin knew the question was stupid before the sharp-eyed huntress nodded. 'Of course she's sure. It's clear as day to her.'

  "If there were nineteen of them before, that makes fifteen of them now. And twelve of us," Okoni muttered. Lessy had gotten them an exact count on the brigands, spotting one that they had missed.

  "Maybe we could come with you?" Khirk suggested. "Make it even?"

  "You have another job. And you aren't equipped to fight inside," Aytin pointed out.

  The lancers were stripped down, with only their clothes and lances. Nothing that would be worthwhile in close quarters fighting. And it was too late to get them anything.

  There was a rustle ahead, but it was just Ness emerging from the tall grass, a long handled ax over one shoulder. "I saw the dragon flying out and sent Stumpy ahead. Are we going?"

  Aytin looked back towards Faelon. The dragon had followed the entire conversation, and his expression was grim. "The odds are poor. Perhaps we try another night?"

  "That won't work and you know it."

  He received a nod of acknowledgement. "Likely not. But we must decide. Now." Faelon glanced in the direction that the brigands' scouts had flown. "Can they do it?"

  There was the barest note of pleading in the words, and Aytin felt a stab of guilt through his chest at his friend's desperate expression. Then he saw Attalee, staring at him coldly and ready to judge whatever decision he made.

  Really, though, there was no decision at all.

  "We'll try," he said, then turned to the assembled wildlings. "If they raise an alarm, break off and fly for the forest. Otherwise, don't let any of them escape. Ready?" The responses ranged from firm nods to raised weapons to Ness's manic grin and a slight tightening around Attalee's eyes.

  It would have to do.

  Aytin sprinted forward and extended his wings to catch the wind. In moments, he was airborne, followed by the rest of his small force.

  Regular flights and good food had returned his wings to working order. Most of the wildlings still passed him by, stronger, and eager to prove themselves to the Dragon Faelon.

  Ness was in the lead, skimming so low that her wings nearly brushed the grass with every beat. That sort of flying was dangerous in the dark. A single unexpected gust of wind could smash her into the ground, and Aytin winced as she sent the leaves on a sapling quivering from a last moment dodge.

  The others followed close behind. There was no formation. Everyone was pushing like mad to reach the walls of the keep before they were spotted.

  Darkness helped, but white hide practically glowed under the moonlight. All it would take was a single keen-eyed watcher to spot them and call out a warning. Aytin's heart hammered with both exertion and terror.

  'Please, Tula,' he prayed, invoking the god of war and retribution. 'If you're watching, we could use any help you're willing to give.'

  Then the keep's walls disappeared behind the ridgeline. If anyone had seen them, there would be flares going up any moment. If not, the rest of their approach should be hidden from view.

  They flew past the small, spring-fed pond that sat at the bottom of the hill. Beyond it, the group formed into a single file as they followed the gully beyond up the hillside.

  A fleeting memory surfaced. Straining up this path with heavy buckets in each hand.

  Aytin suppressed it. He forced himself to focus on the twists and turns that finally ended in a starry sky as they crested the hill.

  They split there. Attalee, Verk, and Okoni veered upward, bows at the ready. The rest made for the sally port and the large hole in the wall.

  Ness was still in the lead, and a shadow detached itself from the night below her. Stumpy was almost matching his partner's speed as they both arrowed for the entrance.

  The silent approach ended suddenly with a cry from the battlements. It cut off in a choking gurgle as one of the bow-armed huntresses put a shaft through the brigand's chest.

  More shouts came from the keep. They were followed by the twang of bowstrings and more screams of pain. And then a bone chilling animalistic snarl split the night as Stumpy shot through the passage, Ness right on his heels.

  Wildlings poured in after the pair, pushing hard to take the brigands through surprise and ferocity.

  Aytin was the last into the keep. He cursed his small build and the narrow wingspan that went with it as he readied his spear and raced inside.

  That spear now sported a steel tip instead of the crude, wooden one it once had. Maybe a mace or sword would have been a better weapon for this sort of battle, but he knew spears. And the shortened haft was handy enough in close quarters.

  The inside of the keep was a scene of chaos. Screams and shouts echoed off of stone walls, along with the crash of wood meeting steel. The smell of blood and spilled guts pervaded the enclosed space and flickering firelight turned the whole melee hellishly surreal.

  If not for his magic, Aytin would have tripped over the body of a brigand just inside of the entrance.

  He had a jagged chunk missing from his side. A serious wound, but not normally mortal. Except, even in the poor light, a sickly green stain was clearly spreading from the edges of the wound. Nauliker venom. The convulsions and wide-eyed rictus of pain on the brigand's face confirmed that the brigand was on his way to a slow and painful death.

  Surprise might have been total, but they hadn't caught the bulk of Xantha's company asleep. In fact, many were wearing light armor, with weapons in hand. Half of their number might be down already, but the rest were fighting like cornered rats and exacting a steep price from their attackers.

  One wildling - Aytin couldn't tell who - lunged with a spear, only to have her untrained thrust parried. The brigand followed up by sliding his blade up along the spear's shaft. She screamed and stumbled back, blood dripping from severed fingers as she dropped her weapon.

  The brigand raised his sword for a killing blow, only to shriek as Aytin's spearhead pierced under the armpit of his armor. With a twist, the young dragonette yanked the weapon free and let his opponent collapse into a gurgling heap.

  There wasn't time to go to his ally's aid, though, as another scream sounded through the keep.

  It had only been moments since the battle began, but both sides were nearly spent. A pair on the stone floor wrestled for control of a knife. Here and there, someone moaned or tried to crawl towards safety. Otherwise, the fight appeared to be over, save for a small knot of dragonettes in one corner.

  That was where the scream came from, followed by an abbreviated yelp. It was punctuated by the sound of wood slamming into something soft.

  "Nooo!"

  The wheezing shout came from Ness. Aytin could just barely glimpse her between the trio of brigands who surrounded the huntress and a fallen heap that could only be Stumpy.

  He didn't even think, just ran towards the beleaguered wildling. Using magic to augment his balance, he practically flew across the carpet of bodies and scattered gear.

  To one side, the wrestling match had ended and an armored brigand was raising her knife for a killing stroke. Aytin lashed out, using his spear shaft to crack the woman across the neck and send her reeling and the blade flying. He didn't pause to watch the results, although the warcry that followed told him that her victim had seized the opportunity.

  The shout had also alerted the brigands surrounding Ness.

  Two turned, a tall, mace-wielding female and a stocky male with a chunk of blue-stained firewood held in both hands. They exchanged a nod and the woman stepped towards Aytin while her companion returned to his wounded victims.

  That confused Aytin, and he hesitated for a moment. 'Ness is wounded. They should be focusing on the bigger threat. Ganging up on me while the other deals with Ness.'

  A sudden insight struck him. 'They think I'm just another wildling. Scrawny. Untrained. Not a threat.'

  Letting out a wordless cry, he charged, spear overextended in what was clearly a wild attack. He caught the edge of a sneer on his opponent's face as she adopted a low ready, no doubt just waiting to bat his attack aside before delivering a killing blow as he stumbled past.

  Only Aytin didn't play along.

  Just as the mace started to twitch upwards, the young dragonette dug his talons into the floor and flared his wings. There was a snap and a shooting pain as one of his toes lodged into a crack in the floor. The claw splintered, but it halted his headlong charge well short of his opponent's defense.

  It was a technique that his brother Stonar had taught him during the season they spent training together. More for duels than actual combat. But in this case, it worked perfectly. The brigand's sneer had been replaced with horror as her mace connected with nothing but air, leaving her completely out of position.

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  She was trying desperately to bring her weapon around when Aytin lunged forward and drove his spear through her groin, below any protection offered by her armor.

  The scream of their comrade had the two remaining brigands whipping around to gawk as she sank into a growing puddle of her own blood. And Ness took the opportunity to strike.

  Her ax was missing somewhere in the mess, but she had a steel knife in one hand and looked ready to drive it into the back of the firewood-armed dragonette.

  She lunged, but the oozing gash on her hip caused her to stumble. The soft grunt of pain was enough to send her target dodging to the side, and a strike that should have landed right between the wings only creased his side.

  Instinctively, the brigand lashed out with the chunk of wood and there was a sickening crack as it struck Ness's shoulder. She cried out in pain and stumbled back into the wall, slumping to the floor. Her knife fell from suddenly nerveless fingers to clatter into the darkness.

  Aytin cursed and lunged, only to be forced to dodge the chunk of wood that whistled past him. The brigand had spun with unnatural speed to hurl it, no doubt channeling some sort of magical strength. It put the younger dragonette on the defensive, and sent him backpedaling.

  'Where are the other huntresses? Verk, Okoni, Attalee?!' The trio were supposed to come help once they were out of targets up above. But he hadn't seen them anywhere.

  The nominal leader of the pair rolled his shoulders as he drew a blade. It was a thick, heavy weapon with a single slightly curved edge. "Finish off the bitch and then help me deal with this one!"

  The other brigand nodded, stalking towards the wounded huntress and raising a hand ax for the killing blow.

  "NOOOO!" Aytin screamed in rage and frustration, but even with the longer reach of his spear, he was at a disadvantage. This one was taking him seriously, and he was experienced. Every thrust was met with a brutal parry backed by unnatural strength. There was nothing he could do.

  Nothing.

  A bone chilling snarl froze everyone. The brigand looming above Ness had just enough time to look up before a mass of green and blue slammed into his side.

  He screamed in shock and pain and brought the ax down on the beast again and again. But the wounded nauliker had a death grip on the dragonette's neck and was hanging on for all he was worth.

  Midway through a swing, the handle slipped through twitching fingers and he slumped to the floor. Stumpy followed, chest heaving and leaking blood from a dozen gashes across his flank.

  Aytin's opponent growled in anger, but only spared enough of a glance to make sure that the beast wasn't getting up. He didn't seem to give a loose scale about the fate of his partner.

  No one else in the keep seemed capable of joining in on either side. Many of the bodies carpeting the ground were moving or moaning, but that was it. They were alone.

  In the brief pause, the brigand took a closer look at his foe. His eyes narrowed, then widened in sudden recognition. "You! The fucking noble brat!"

  Aytin didn't bother responding with words, instead thrusting forward.

  But even surprised, the other dragonette wasn't distracted enough to neglect his defense. He swatted the thrust aside and managed to score a slash across Aytin's arm.

  It wasn't deep. The blade was designed for chopping, not cutting. But it was first blood, and the young dragonette hissed in pain.

  "See? Weak little noble piece of trash! No wonder your family wouldn't p-"

  He stopped in mid-word, confusion written across his face. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. And then he twisted slightly, revealing an arrow sprouting from his back.

  The last remaining brigand toppled to the ground.

  Aytin rushed towards Ness.

  She was trying to drag herself forward with one hand. Her other hung at an unnatural angle behind her.

  "Help me!" she growled through gritted teeth, tears of pain trickling down her cheeks.

  Aytin didn't know how. The wound on her leg was bad, but blood was only oozing from it. That wasn't a danger.

  Her shoulder, though...

  Aytin shuddered. Agon might be able to put it back together. Maybe. What looked like it could be a shard of bone stuck out, glistening white and blue in the firelight. That sort of wound was beyond anyone short of a master healer.

  Nevertheless, he squatted down and started working to bandage the wounded huntress's leg. But she thrashed against his grip.

  "No! Help me!" she begged, and stretched an arm out in front of her. Towards Stumpy's broken form.

  Finally, Aytin realized what she was asking. Looping an arm underneath her good shoulder, he half carried, half dragged her the handful of steps to where her companion lay.

  Tears that had nothing to do with physical pain dripped from Ness's face as she reached out to stroke the beast's flank.

  Incredibly, the nauliker stirred. He turned to face his mistress and a gurgling whine escaped from his heaving chest.

  Aytin felt a stir of hope before the scale of the nauliker's wounds registered.

  Massive gouges on his flanks. A rear leg hanging on by a thread. Half his face smashed. Blood was pouring out in spurts, and those spurts were rapidly dwindling. Stumpy had only lasted so long out of sheer stubbornness, and that was quickly running out.

  He managed to nuzzle Ness, and the huntress gave a shaky, hiccuping laugh. "Hey... hey Stumpy... It's going... going to be..." She choked up, and hugged her companion close as sobs wracked through her.

  There was a flutter of wings behind Aytin and he turned to see Attalee. The senior huntress took in the scene, jaw working as she surveyed the carnage. Her eyes finally came to rest on the softly crying Ness and the now motionless form of Stumpy, and she started to shake.

  "Attalee-"

  Aytin flinched as she whirled on him, teeth bared. Her expression somehow got even nastier as she looked him over, taking in his lack of any serious injury.

  "Tell me," she growled, one hand reaching for her quiver. "Tell me why I shouldn't put an arrow in your gut and leave you to die?"

  He backed away, arms wide. "Please, Attalee, I... I..."

  She had an arrow out. One tipped with a steel broadhead. And there was murder in her eyes.

  "Why. Not?"

  "Don't..."

  The single word brought the vengeful huntress up short.

  Ness was still lying there, good arm wrapped around Stumpy's corpse. But she was staring up at them both, eyes bright with tears.

  "He was here... and he saved me... and tried. He tried..." Her words trailed off as she looked down and hugged her companion tighter. "He was here," she finished, almost too quietly to be heard.

  "Companion Aytin fought like a demon," another wildling called from the far side of the room. It was Zinzi, one of the huntresses. She was limping forward, a rag held against her left hand. Blood from the stumps of several fingers stained it a deep blue.

  The wildling who had been struggling with a gash in his stomach slowly straightened, and Aytin saw it was their healer, Shinn. He grimaced in pain as he rose, but the wound was no longer bleeding.

  "He saved me. I thought..." He shook himself, and then got a good look at the surroundings. "Oh, Makers!" The healer pushed past Attalee and crouched at Ness's side.

  Two more wildlings picked themselves up, as best as their injuries would allow. Three others didn't.

  Attalee's rage melted away, and she seemed to sag. Her ears drooped and she looked away, back towards the hole in the western wall.

  "Two of them tried to fly for help," she muttered. "They were outside the keep. We had to chase them."

  "Did... did you get them?"

  The huntress nodded. "Before they made it to the treeline. These bows..." She trailed off and held up the weapon before shaking herself. "They're dead."

  Aytin looked up towards the night sky visible through the gap in the wall. There was no one out there, and he frowned. "What about the others? Verk and Okoni?"

  "Alive," Attalee confirmed, and Aytin breathed a sigh of relief. "Okoni took a gash to the wing. She had to land. Verk is getting Faelon."

  'Right.' Suddenly, the fact that the battle wasn't over yet registered. "Right, Faelon! Is he here, or-"

  "Aytin?!"

  Even from a distance, the dragon's deep voice was loud enough to cut through the thick stone wall. Aytin was already sprinting for the exit.

  "Faelon!"

  Dark brown mud and deep red scales blended surprisingly well into surroundings, but a sprinting dragon was impossible to hide. He came barreling out of the darkness, and his footfalls sent loose stones clattering off of the keep's walls.

  Faelon skidded to a stop so close that Aytin felt the wind of his passage. His nostrils flared as he took in the smell of spilled blood. "It's over?"

  "It's over."

  From the outside, the keep was quiet. There was no sign of the battle that had raged within.

  The first part of the plan had been a success. But...

  "It was... It..." Aytin's face contorted. The ambush over the island had been over so fast that he had barely even realized what was going on before being overwhelmed. And the delerions had been a different kind of terrible.

  But Faelon understood. He dipped his enormous head so it was level with the dragonette's much smaller one. "You fought and you survived."

  "Not everyone did."

  "They rarely do."

  The moment ended with a rustle of wings, as Verk and the lancers landed nearby.

  "Companion!" Khirk called out and rushed towards him.

  "Get inside. Help where you can," Aytin ordered, kicking himself for abandoning Ness and the rest of the injured wildlings.

  "What about the other dragon?" The lancer was shifting his weapon back and forth.

  His comrades looked equally anxious. Drav kept scanning the skies, while Nali gripped her lance like it might try to fly away.

  For a moment, Aytin was confused. 'But it's over... right?'

  Except it wasn't.

  "Right, uh." He thought for a moment. "Drav, you can see in the dark. Keep watch. When you see the dragon coming back, raise the alarm and you three get into position. Help until then."

  The wildlings nodded and ran for the keep.

  "Was the traitor here?" Faelon rumbled once they were alone again.

  "I..." Aytin had to think back to the rush of faces and bodies. "I don't think so."

  "With their dragon, then." After a moment's consideration, he added, "Or dead."

  "I hope not." Aytin surprised himself with the vehemence in his voice.

  "As do I."

  Before either could continue, distant lightning flashed in the cloudless night. The afterimage blotted out the faint light of the campfires that had been just barely visible.

  Aytin's eyes widened, straining to see details far beyond what anyone could hope to pick out. "Rina," he muttered, heart hammering inside of his chest.

  'Did they get spotted? Did they try to fight? How? Why?!'

  Seconds passed and nothing followed. Still, the young dragonette clenched his fists in impotence until Faelon spoke.

  "A signal, I think. They realized that they have been tricked."

  Aytin blinked, then nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right." A seed of doubt remained, but he forced himself to think. "We need to get ready."

  "And soon," Faelon agreed. "At speed, a blue will be here in minutes." He started moving to put the keep between his bulk and the returning dragon as the sound of distant thunder echoed.

  "Okay, I'll warn the others to get ready."

  Things were better than they had been before he left. They'd gathered the wounded in one corner, and Shinn was doing his best to treat them. He wasn't anywhere near Agon in terms of healing talent. At most, he could stop the worst of the bleeding while Attalee and Verk bandaged minor wounds.

  Someone had taken the time to lay out the bodies of the three dead wildlings. Each had their wings wrapped around them like shrouds. Stumpy's corpse lay next to them, covered in a scavenged blanket.

  In another corner, the bodies of the brigands were piled in an unceremonious heap. A few were vaguely recognizable from his time in captivity, but Aytin didn't see Xantha among them.

  Drav was already huddled with Khirk and Nali, gesturing animatedly in the direction of the lightning. All of them turned as they heard Aytin's steps on the stone floor.

  "They're coming," he said, and expressions tightened all around.

  Aytin held up a hand to stop them before the trio of lancers could take off.

  "Remember, it's going to be vulnerable as it comes to land." All three nodded, but it was clear they didn't need reminding. Aytin had only told them just that a dozen times during training.

  They were supposed to circle below the edge of the hill, where they would be hidden from view. Up above would have been better. Speed was critical for a lancer, and nothing built speed like a steep dive. But that risked being spotted and giving the whole plan away. A level approach would have to do.

  "And if it looks hurt, even just struggling to fly, break off. Faelon doesn't want you throwing your lives away."

  "We won't let Dragon Faelon down," Khirk declared.

  Nali gave a firm nod and Verk echoed the other lancer's words with a sharp, "For Dragon Faelon!"

  Aytin took a deep breath and stepped to the side. "Then good luck. And... may the Makers be with you all."