Fight And The Fury (Book 8) Read Free Page B

around and saw Ben charging his way with the bow held high. He was yelling something, but Brenwar’s ears were ringing.
    “What’s that?”
    Ben pointed and waved frantically.
    Brenwar turned. The frozen dragons on the other side of the ice were breaking free.
    Brenwar huffed through his beard and said, “No you don’t.”
    He slung War Hammer across the ice with all his might.
    Kachoom!
    It blasted into the dragon’s chest so hard that it shook all of its scales. Its eyelids fluttered. Streams of acid exploded from its mouth. It struggled, squawking like a drowning animal. Droplets of acid showered the air, sizzling on the ice and everywhere.
    “Get away from there, Brenwar!” Ben yelled.
    “Stay back!” Brenwar yelled at the same time. He’d had enough of this. He was putting an end to the dragon. He stormed right into its path, ignoring the burning acid that sizzled off his skin. He snatched up his hammer and struck the wild beast again and again until it moved no more. He combed his fingers through the smoking holes that burned in his beard.
    “Drat!”
    The ice cracked between his feet, and the third dragon ripped its head out of the frozen waters. Its eyes locked on Brenwar’s. War Hammer locked on its eyes and sailed straight into its nose.
    Krang!
    The muscles in its steel-hard neck went limp and sunk onto the ice. Brenwar strode over, picked up his hammer, and finished it in one quick blow. He wheeled around. No more dragons. All three were dead. He saw Ben assisting Bayzog. The elf’s chiseled face was filled with pain. Brenwar headed over and kneeled down. The acid had eaten through Bayzog’s robes and into his flesh. Nasty bubbling wounds.
    “Yer legs never did you much good anyway,” he said. “I’ll get the chest and see if we can stop that.”
    “Thanks,” Bayzog said, grimacing. His face was beaded in sweat. “Feels like its eating right through me.”
    “Brenwar,” Ben said, eyes wide, “your head is smoking.” He started patting it out.
    “Stop that!”
    “But?”
    “It will go out soon enough.”
    “Doesn’t it hurt?” Ben said. “I would think it hurts.”
    “It doesn’t hurt as much as the sound of your yapping.” He eyed Ben. “Say, make yourself useful and fetch the chest.”
    ***
    “That was a good plan, Elf,” Brenwar said.
    “Thanks,” Bayzog said. He’d never been in so much pain before. “Maybe you can make me a suit of armor one day,” he continued, trying not to look at his wounds.
    “Maybe,” Brenwar said, peeling the remains of Bayzog’s robes away from his acid-burns.
    Bayzog sucked in sharply.
    “But, it won’t do you any good if you don’t fill us in on the plan,” Brenwar said. “No good at all. Why didn’t you just tell us something instead of running off like ye did?”
    “Well, I didn’t really have a plan. I just felt I needed to do something. I followed my instincts.” He surveyed the dead dragons. Ben had blown one up, and Brenwar had walloped the other two. Despite his burns, he felt good for playing a part in that. Too often, he felt like he did nothing at all. It was as if they were protecting him and he was never protecting them. “Seems it worked.”
    “Aye,” Brenwar said, unfurrowing his brow. He laid his hand on Bayzog’s shoulder. “Sometimes you have to trust your instincts. Yours are getting better. Much better. Just not better than mine. I shouldn’t have let you go. I shouldn’t have let Nath go either.”
    “You did right.”
    “We’ll see.” Brenwar dusted off his hands. He’d peeled all the robes away from Bayzog’s legs. The flesh was nasty underneath. “Well, at least we have plenty of ice to put on it,” he said, doing just that.
    Bayzog choked a laugh and wiped away his tears.
    “Where’s Ben? We’ve got to get moving, help Dragon.”
    “You don’t think there could be another dragon out there, do you?” Bayzog said.
    “No, not after all that squawking they made. Aid would have come by