Curor howled and broke off, shearing into a cloud. The bronze followed him closely and attacked, causing the red to turn again. His tattered wing gave him less maneuverability. Kreiss poked at them with his lance, exactly what Lyndruss wanted. Watching his timing, the warrior held his blade until the last instant. With a mighty downstroke he severed the pole a few inches from its silvery head. Cursing, the enemy dropped the useless wood, pulled his own sword, and urged his mount to attack. The dragons met with a deafening crash.
The battle continued until the bronze heaved with exertion and his rider felt giddy. Neither pair of fighters dared call a halt to breathe. Neither dared to give away the slightest advantage to his enemy.
“This day will belong to the dragon with more stamina,” thought Lyndruss grimly, hacking at Bonebreak’s legs. “Let that be you, Tariskatt.” One of the red’s claws glanced across his forehead, leaving a shallow cut before the warrior could parry. He shook blood from his eyes and fought on.
The wily bronze pulled out his most devastating attacks and his best feints. Curor matched them with his own inventive strategies. The dragons were as equal a match as the two warriors on their backs. The humans shouted instructions and slashed at one another as their mounts bowed, lifted, and grappled in the mid-sky dance of death.
The bloody froth on his dragon’s lips and the faltering effort in his wingbeats finally told Lyndruss the truth. Today would not belong to him and Tariskatt. Nor could any days in the future. Zanark Kreiss’s broad smile showed that he knew where victory lay.
With a bellow loud enough to shake the sky, the bronze gathered himself, winged away, turned suddenly, and made a mad dive toward the red. Far too late to change the plunge into anything else but an all-out attack, Lyndruss lifted his sword with a numb arm and assessed the closing distance with hot, dry eyes. He figured the time of collision precisely right. The warrior realized too late what this assault would cost his partner.
“You damned worm!” he howled. “Are you mad? Don’t-”
Seeing his danger, Curor labored for similar speed. The dragons came together with shattering force. One of Bonebreak’s claws caught in the loose scale on Tariskatt’s chest. Lyndruss saw the hideous gleam of delight in the dragon’s eye as the red ripped and scythed until unprotected flesh glistened.
With equal satisfaction, Lyndruss stabbed deep into the red dragon’s eye and braced himself as the beast jerked his head back, bellowing. Tariskatt took advantage of the reaction and raked all four feet down, down and down over mutilated scales on Bonebreak’s belly. Curor howled as his own red drops fell among the rain. He broke off abruptly, veering for the relative cover of thick clouds, leaving the metallic dragon and his rider masters of the sky.
“Down, easy,” ordered Lyndruss as Tariskatt shuddered, trying to reset his wingbeats to normal speed. They faltered. The dragon had no strength left. His wings stopped, sending them into a steep dive. Mind sagging with the pain of his wounds, Lyndruss prepared himself to die. Closing his eyes, he commended himself and his excellent fighting dragon to Paladine.
A jerk made his eyes open on gray, always gray. They were flying again. The motions were uneven and still aimed groundward, but their angle was much more gentle.
“What are you doing?” his rider yelled.
The silent dragon labored on, blood speckling his rain-shined scales.
“What are you doing? Tariskatt! Answer me!”
“Landing,” the bronze finally gasped, voice rusty with effort.
“You don’t have the strength. We’ll go down together.”
“No.”
Communication cost the beast much in energy. Lyndruss gritted his teeth, knowing he could do nothing to change his partner’s mind. The only thing the warrior could do now was ride the rest of the way, and hope.
Their landing was hard. Tariskatt tried his best to backwing them, but the effort proved too much for his remaining strength. He crashed, breaking both front legs with cracking sounds that sent splinters of agony through Lyndruss’s soul. The impact widened the wounds in the dragon’s chest as he skidded. With a grunt of pain Tariskatt lay where he had fallen, unable to move.