Merlin, stay with me! Arthur had all but forgotten the fight around him and several of his knights took notice, converging about him to keep the shades at bay. Damn it, Merlin!

I hear you. The response was distant, labored. It's... hard, Arthur, I can't-

He's right, young warlock. Kilgarrah was chiming in, his voice ghostly in the dragon's head. You can't beat them without magic. You'll be killed.

It's taking too much energy.. I can't focus.

Without warning, Aithusa lunged at him, her wings wrapping about him like a blanket. The two began to fall. The sound of the air whistling by was loud, so loud, and Aithusa was scrabbling at him with her talons. She found purchase in his left hind leg and dug in, and Arthur heard Merlin scream in his head.

Desperately Merlin began snapping at her neck, his jaws skittering harmlessly on the polished ivory of her scales. He couldn't see it but he knew the ground was close, and Arthur and Kilgarrah were drowning each other out, and then suddenly Aithusa's wings seemed to melt away with a roar. She was careening away and Merlin could see scarlet on her neck.

A chink in her armor, Kilgarrah observed.

Merlin righted himself, pushing upwards hard. His leg throbbed, but it didn't matter. He knew Aithusa's weakness. It was a patch roughly a hand and a half in diameter, where Morgana had taken a scale.

He felt his magic now, pulsing, coursing through his veins like some icy fire, and grimly he pulled a wave of ice shards from the depths of the clouds. There was no time to try and spare Aithusa, not now. He focused on the side of her neck.

Morgana was standing upright on Aithusa's back and Merlin could hear her screaming incantations. Her hands were outstretched and the ice shards melted away as Aithusa sped through their midst. Some fragments were left behind and they tore bloody holes in the dragon's wings, but she didn't slow. Her jaws were reaching, gaping, and Merlin lowered his head like a ram as he rose to meet her. His horns found her chest and he felt something give, deep under her scales, but Morgana wouldn't let Aithusa stop. Instead the dragon tore at his shoulder. At first his own scales held her teeth at bay, but she was gripping him with her claws and he couldn't get free. There was a tearing sound as Merlin shot upwards, the force of his body sending Aithusa away even as his shoulder erupted in fire. He could see red out of the corner of his eye but he turned, looking for Aithusa again, conjuring a fleet of cloud falcons like the last time they'd fought. The pain helped him focus, helped him remember that his name was Merlin and he was human.

The falcons were swarming the white dragon, and Merlin stayed a distance away, conjuring more and more. They were trying to encase Aithusa's wings again but Morgana knew better, warding them off with blasts of hot air. Still, between the birds and keeping Aithusa in check, Morgana was stretched thinner even than Merlin, and the warlock was doing his utmost to make her work as hard as possible. She had not used any spells in a direct attempt to attack him, and Merlin had an idea that she simply didn't have the energy.

Aithusa, I know you can hear me.

Even at a distance Merlin could see her head snap in his direction, her eyes widening.

I don't want to fight you. And you don't want to fight me, either, do you?

There was no reaction other than the initial surprise, but Merlin pressed on, flying closer.

I'm still a Dragonlord, Aithusa, even now. I command you to leave this place. Please. Let this end.

Shut up! Morgana sounded furious. There was a blast and the last of Merlin's birds were disintegrated, but Aithusa stayed motionless a moment. Close enough now to see her expression, Merlin could see she was in agony. Morgana was screaming commands, and the dragon seemed frozen.

In the castle, Likmus stood up, a smile of real delight on his face. Nimueh was whispering in his ear.

This is taking too long, don't you think?

"I quite agree," he said, and subconsciously, he traced the broken triskele on his wrist.

Aithusa has proven a disappointment. Weak. Useless.

"A pity."

Merlin, too. But that, at least, can be remedied.

"I live to serve, mistress."

It's time, darling.

Likmus retrieved the mortar filled with all that remained of Balinor, and poured it and the vial of sacred water into a fount. His incantation would not take long.