Page 134 of Avalon Tower

Not if I can help it.

Pushing further into his mind, I force my will against his. Unlike Caradoc, he’s easy to manipulate. Years in the army taught him that someone always outranks him. In this case, it’s me.

I lean forward, acting as if I’m talking softly to him for the sake of anyone watching. And then I give him one final mental push.

He clears his throat, looking stunned, then says in a loud voice. “This woman’s name is Nia Melisende. She’s a Fey military expert from secret services. She will be taking command.”

The soldiers around us stare at me, uncertain. They’ve been training with Atkinson for more than a year. Nothing prepared them for a random woman taking control, which means I can’t give them time to think it through.

“You won’t be able to harm the dragons,” I tell them, my voice steady and authoritative. “Their scales are too thick. And they’re immune to iron, so even if a missile gets through, it won’t kill them.”

“So, what do we do?” a soldier asks.

I squint at the line of incoming dragons, reaching for Caradoc’s memories. There—a possible weak point. “That dragon, the silver one with a red sheen.” I point at the huge beast. “He’s older, weaker, and his scales are thinner. He didn’t get the full iron immunity treatment because it was making him too sick. If you concentrate your fire on him, you might be able to take him down.”

“What about the rest?” another soldier asks.

“The Fey don’t have many dragons, and they’re planning for a long campaign. They don’t want to lose any dragons in this attack. If we take one down, the rest might pull back to avoid further casualties and let the troops do the work.”

I have no idea if it will work, but I pray that it does.

“The dragons will be in range in twenty seconds,” someone shouts.

“Coordinate with the rest of the ADG teams,” I say urgently. “All cannons on that dragon. Do it. Now.”

“Wait,” Atkinson mutters.

Damn it. He’s recovered. I turn to him, opening my mouth, but Raphael is already by his side. His hand is on the man’s neck, applying pressure, using the size of his big body to block the soldiers’ view.

Atkinson’s eyelids flutter, and he collapses into Raphael’s arms. “He’s sick,” Raphael mutters. “I’ll take care of him.

The soldiers aren’t paying attention to Raphael at this point. All eyes are on the incoming dragons.

“Ready,” a large sergeant booms. Shouting orders into an old-fashioned radio, he instructs the artillery to aim for the silver-red dragon.

The soldiers shift the cannons, heavy, primitive weapons that work with cranks and pulleys. None of the fancy targeting tech we had before the Fey invaded work anymore.

I focus on that one sickly dragon flying behind the rest of the squadron.

“Fire!” the sergeant roars.

I cover my ears, but the blasts are still deafening. One shot goes wide. The second one, aimed much better, hits the dragon’s body…and ricochets off. I groan in despair.

But now other guns across the castle battlements are firing, and more from the stone sentry points that line the cliffs.

I lift the binoculars and see a spray of blood from the silver-red dragon. He rears his head back and shrieks, plummeting toward the sea. I watch through the glass, expecting the beast to crash into the water, but he starts beating his wings again and levels off. Not dead, but obviously badly hurt.

The other dragons veer away and then circle back. Even from here, I can see the fury in their predatory eyes. For a few seconds, our lives hang in the balance. If they swoop down upon the city and unleash their wrath, we’re doomed to burn.

To my relief, they spread their wings, and the squadron falls back. No need to risk dragon lives when the Fey troops are almost upon us, and they will do the job.

“Well done.” Raphael touches my lower back. “I’ve got something to show you.”

He leads me to the other side of the tower, where we can see the streets of Dover. People line the roads. The evacuation has started, but it’s not fast enough.

There are people milling together in long columns. Raising the binoculars, I see Serana leading one of the columns through the streets.

I look at Raphael. “We need to buy them time.”