He lay prone, lacking the strength to move. All he could do, he had done, whether she knew it or not. No matter. He had not done it for her, but for her smile, and a memory of what might have been. She was close; so near, so far. The heels of her boots were inches from his open eyes, cracked and downtrodden. How many leagues had they traveled together? He could see every shiny crease worn in the leather. He might have loved her if she had let him. It would have spread balm on the aching wound of his betrayal. But it was not to be, and all he could do was die for her sake. It would have to be enough, for there was nothing else left to him. Between them lay the man she loved and protected. Blaise’s calloused hand was outflung, open, as if to reach in friendship. His closed lids fluttered and his fingertips twitched.

There was another sound. The dragon’s roar.

It hurt Carfax to move his head, but he did. Enough to see the black horn of Oronin’s Bow silhouetted against the sky and the blazing shaft of the Arrow it held taut. Enough to see the tension in her body as the stooping dragon began its last dive, growing from a dwindling speck of brightness to a massive comet. Fianna’s legs were trembling, though she had her feet firmly planted. He saw the strong muscles of her calves quivering in fear. But she was the Archer of Arduan and her arms held steady. In the midst of chaos and battle, she held. Even in the face of the dragon’s dive, as its wings shadowed the sky and its gleaming talons threatened to gouge the earth.

Even when its jaws gaped wide, revealing the depths of its impossible gullet, and fire spewed from the furnace of its belly. With tears on her face, she held her ground, shoulders braced, a shaft of white-gold fire blazing in the arc of horn and hair circumscribed by her hands. As he watched, her lips shaped a single, desperate prayer and her fingers released the string.

The Archer of Arduan shot the Arrow of Fire.

Trailing white-gold glory, it flew true between the dragon’s jaws; flew true and pierced the gullet, pierced the mighty furnace of its belly. There was an explosion, then; a column of fire that seared the skies, while Men and Ellylon flung themselves to earth, and from somewhere, a cry, a terrible descant like the sound of a heart breaking asunder.

Dying, the dragon fell.

The impact made the mountain shudder.