Page 137 of To Kill a King
Behind him, the dwarven horn sounded the advance.
Zadé pointed her stout dwarven pony at the elf in the gold headdress riding the white stag. Sun elves weren’t as good as moon elves, but she wasn’t too disappointed. There was no chance of running into family if she was surrounded by sun elves.
Princess Tsara loosed another arrow at the soldiers manning the eastern gate. “Status on the infiltration team,” she called.
The elf beside her lowered the viewing glass and met her gaze. “They just scaled the wall, Your Highness. They should open the portcullis in a few minutes.”
“We need to keep the humans distracted while they do their job.” The princess turned toward the ranks behind her. “Archers! Fire at will!”
Behind Zadé, the horn sounded. Wave after wave of arrows peppered the walls.
Two men holding a large sling between them launched something long and metallic over her head, deep into the elven ranks.
A Whisperer. Bigger than the ones Elsan had in his pack.
“Everyone, cover your ears!” The princess’ order rang out across the ranks.
The trumpet echoed and the army froze as every soldier slammed both palms over their ears.
Seconds later, those too slow to heed the order tumbled to the ground. Zadé’s jaw tightened, heat burning in her chest at the waste of life.
How long until it was safe to drop their hands? Elsan had never told her. Maybe he didn’t know, either.
A brief commotion spread through the humans guarding the city walls. The gates crawled open to the blast of a trumpeted fanfare.
It was far too early for Tsara’s advance team to have eliminated the gate workers. At least, assuming standard military tactics hadn’t changed in the last two centuries. That probably would’ve been good to check before running into battle, now that she thought about it. A hard knot congealed in her gut.
A black ball of mist twice as large as a grown man and vaguely reptilian in form stepped forward. A spiny ridge started between its nostrils and extended over its head and down its spine. Obsidian flames rippled from its hide. Membranous wings that reminded Zadé of an oversized bat unfurled behind it with a dramatic snap. The monster took a deep breath and howled a war cry. The muscles along Zadé’s spine clenched. Teeth as long as her forearm glinted in the morning sun.
She glanced at Tsara as the momentum on the battlefield paused, as if every soldier was holding their breath. “What in the Inferno’s name is that?”
The sun elf princess paled. “A Shadow Dragon.”
Zadé frowned. Those were supposed to be myths. Made up, and stuff.
The dragon took a step forward, the gates creaking closed behind it. Its black scales turned iridescent in the sunlight.
The monster’s knees bent backward with a crack as it pounced at her front lines.
Zadé shook her head. Tsara’s front lines. Not hers. She wasn’t in charge this time.
Tsara’s soldiers rallied, and a volley of arrows met the darkness as it landed before the battalion. The bolts embedded in its flesh for mere seconds before crumbling to ash.
The fiend’s eyes bored right into Tsara, cunning intelligence in its gaze.
That’s why Zadé never let her soldiers wear such fancy jewelry into battle. That headdress was a lightning rod for everything the enemy had to throw at them. And it made for easy looting afterward.
The dragon’s jaws fell open in a mockery of a grin before exhaling at her troops.
Swells of blackness furrowed the air, like summer’s heat rising from cobblestones. Those elves caught by its breath vaporized into piles of ash, which scattered like bits of debris in the wind.
The hardness in Zadé’s gut froze as her heartbeat stuttered.
“Take it down!” Fear laced with desperation tainted Princess Tsara’s voice.
The horn rang out behind her. Flaming arrows flew above, aimed with deadly accuracy.
They bounced off the creature’s hide, as ineffective as the first wave.