So far, so good.
I spun around for another pass at the base, dodging a purple hatchling as she soared by, and angled myself into a dive that would take me close to the ground. The sky was filled with dragons, swooping from above and breathing jets of flame onto enemy guards. The ground in front of the laboratory smoldered, scattered fires burning across the scorched earth, sending columns of smoke billowing into the air. When the soldiers of St. George had first swarmed the yard, the guards had been so focused on the attacking humans they hadn’t seen the small army of dragons descending from the sky until it was too late and flames had exploded around them. Since then, it had been utter chaos, with bullets and dragons flying through the air, screaming humans and the roar of flames and gunfire, all mixing into a hellish cacophony that pounded my eardrums and vibrated through my teeth.
But it seemed that we were actually winning. I didn’t want to get cocky, but it looked like there were more enemy guards lying on the ground, and hardly any dragons or soldiers of St. George. The remaining guards had taken cover behind whatever obstacles they could find, but we were slowly driving them back toward the lab and the enormous steel doors of the entrance.
“They’re on the retreat!” Lieutenant Ward’s voice crackled through the bud that had been jammed into my ear canal. “All squads, press forward. One last push should finish them—”
With an earsplitting groan, the enormous steel doors of the laboratory creaked open. I paused in midair, beating my wings to keep aloft, as the huge barriers swung slowly back.
Uh-oh. That’s a bad sign…
With a sound like the buzzing of a million locust wings, a swarm of metallic gray dragons flew out of the opening and took to the air. Hissing and snarling, they coiled upward in a glittering cloud, before turning and descending on us like a storm.
“Shit!” I surged into motion again, flapping my wings hard, as the army of clones set upon hatchlings and the soldiers of St. George alike. Now our soldiers were forced back, diving behind cover to avoid gouts of flame, as vessels swooped overhead. They swarmed into the air, slamming into hatchlings and dragonells, and several bodies plummeted to the ground.
Roaring, I dove into the fray, ripping a vessel away from a hatchling and sending it careening into one of its fellows. The vessels tumbled from the air, but another slammed into me from the side and sank its talons into my back. We dropped from the sky in a tangle of wings and tails, snarling and raking at each other. At the last second, I managed to bring my back feet up and kick the thing in the stomach, shoving it off me. Quickly, I opened my wings, enough to turn my freefall into a dive and skim the dusty ground as I regained my aerial balance. The vessel couldn’t react fast enough, however, and crashed full force into the rocks with a thud and a sickening crack of bones.
Climbing into the air, I gazed around in dismay. There seemed to be a lot more metallic gray bodies than my own dragons, and the mood of the battle had become even more frantic. Vessels chased their bright counterparts with predatory skill and latched on to them to bring them to the ground, seeming not to care about their own safety. Lieutenant Ward’s voice barked in my ear, shouting commands to the men on the ground. The soldiers of St. George had regrouped and were doing what they did best, which was kill dragons, but they had their hands full with the sheer amount of vessels swooping out of nowhere.
A booming retort, more like cannon fire than a gunshot, rang out from somewhere far behind me, and one of the vessels simply exploded in midair. One second there was a dragon swooping toward me, the next it had vanished into a cloud of blood, bone and scales.
“Nice shot, Nicholas!” came Martin’s voice through the earpiece, and I realized they had finally brought out the prototype we’d stolen from the train. The Dragonkiller, as it was aptly dubbed. “Keep it up,” Martin encouraged as the echo of the retort finally died away, “but don’t fire willynilly! We don’t have a lot of ammo for that thing.”
Also, please don’t hit any of us, I thought, wondering, for a split second, what this would mean for the future of the Order. A gun like that would certainly change things, for both St. George and Talon, provided any of us survived this. It was certainly powerful, but there were swarms of small, fast-moving vessels that were difficult to hit with any single firearm, and a lot more clones than there were bullets. We couldn’t count on the Dragonkiller to turn the battle. It was up to us grunts, on the ground and in the air.
A dragonell shrieked as she plummeted past me, two vessels clinging doggedly to her back. With a snarl, I dove after them. Sinking my claws into one clone, I wrenched him off the other dragon as the dragonell twisted and managed to shove the other away. But the vessels recovered, beating their wings to stop their downward plunge, and came back for us. We flew higher with the clones in hot pursuit, and I whirled to face them, roaring a challenge as the two abominations came at me with teeth bared.
Ember, St. George, I hope you’re almost done in there. Because I don’t know how much longer we can keep going.