Prologue
The dead lay everywhere on the battlefield.
The MudWings were in a full retreat. The battle was clearly won.
So why has the fighting not stopped?
North shot a blast of his deadly frost breath directly into the face of a large MudWing soldier. She shrieked with pain before falling over a hundred feet to her death.
North hated the MudWings. He hated the whole war.
We fight and die for a crazy princess who doesn't even have the courage to lead her own tribe into battle.
A thought which, if spoken aloud, would have gotten him knocked out of the rankings and possibly banished from the IceWing Kingdom.
Which wouldn't be so bad, if it weren't for the dragon I'd be leaving behind.
He suddenly found himself grappling with a MudWing twice his size. The MudWing grabbed North's throat and squeezed.
Gasping for breath and trying to maintain his flight balance, North pulled his service dagger out from its sheath. "Die!" he snarled, slashing it across the MudWing's throat.
His opponent made a horrible gurgling sound before falling out of the sky. North watched with grim satisfaction before moving forward.
As the MudWings' retreat became a route, North couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
That was too easy. They attacked us. Why would they bring so few warriors?
Then he heard a shout from the commander. "FALL BACK! FALL BACK, FOR MOON'S SAKE!"
With a sinking feeling, North watched as what looked like 50 MudWings flew over the hilltop, all of them in full battle gear.
As he turned to fly away, he heard screams. Looking back, he saw that every MudWing had just thrown their spear with full force. Fly, fly faster, he thought. As they flew away, the spears found their marks.
Over half the IceWing forces were taken down mid-retreat all at once. One spear barely missed North's ear. "KEEP MOVING!" he yelled to his comrades. The MudWings were still in pursuit.
They can't possibly be crazy enough to chase us all the way back into our own territory, he thought. Then a horrifying sight greeted them: more MudWings, ready to intercept the retreating IceWings.
This is the only way back. We have to break through the wall they've formed.
The commander must have been having the same thoughts, because he gave the order to form the deadly frost breath wall.
An order which was never carried out.
The MudWings were quicker, and they threw their spears straight at the advancing IceWings. North continued to dodge them. One by one, his fellow IceWings fell to the ground, struck by the pointed weapons.
Just like Quartz, he thought. The memory of the death of his comrade by MudWing spears further enraged him. Blue blood flowed across the valley.
Almost there, he thought. Just a little further. I must get back to the outpost. Back to Rime. The only dragon left who cares about me.
He called up the frost breath and hit a MudWing squarely in the chest, then flew through the gap in their defense.
Go, go, go, I can make it.
I can make it back.
I promised her I'd come back.
He felt a sharp pain in his leg, then another in his back.
With a roar of pain, he dropped out of the sky.
Looking back as he fell, he saw two spears embedded in him.
It was no good to keep flying, the MudWings would just catch him easily and kill him. He let himself fall.
He hit the ground, and everything went black.