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breaking to wipe away Morath’s army.
With each flap of Salkhi’s wings, it
became clearer. What had sent him into a mad
dash.
A group of Morath soldiers had taken the
night not to rest, but to sneak through the
abandoned city. To scale the foothills, then
the mountain wall. To the dam itself.
Where they now, with battering rams and
wicked cunning, sought to unleash it.
Salkhi swept closer. Nesryn reached for an
arrow. Her fingers curled around air.
Sartaq, however, had two arrows left, and
fired both upon the thirty or so Morath
soldiers heaving a mammoth battering ram
into the center of the dam. Wood, and stone,
and iron, ancient and foreboding. A few
cracks, and it would come down.
And then the upper lake and river penned
up behind it would rage across the plain.