relaxed, a scream permeated the air, chilling her to the core.
Falcon. He was in trouble.
Chapter 7
“Aya, stop.” Falcon heard Faith plead from outside the shattered window, causing his desperation to intensify. He struggled to move again, but that only caused him to sink even more into the tar.
“It looks like one of your friends will be dead soon enough,” mocked Draknorr. “Which one will be the one to survive, and which one will live? Now that’s the golden question.”
“Stop this!” ordered Falcon through gritted teeth. His friends were mere feet from him, and they needed him now more than ever. He willed the power that rested at his core forward. It warmed his body as it bubbled through him. His usual gray emblem turned a misty blue. Shooting stars moved through it at high velocity. A second later Falcon felt the familiar pull of the vortex. He disappeared inside the hole. When he appeared again he was standing in Aya’s front yard. He breathed a sigh of relief as he trudged across the soft pasture. He had hoped to end up in the backyard where Aya and Faith were, but at least he was free.
He snapped his head around as the front doors unexpectedly flew of their hinges. With a loud burst, they crashed into the front gate, breaking into dozens of pieces.
Draknorr shook off a few pieces of scattered wood that had landed on his fist. He took a slow step into the front yard. As he moved he growled softly. “No void wielder will ever be enough to defeat me, boy.”
“Will a dual wielder suffice?”
No way. Falcon slowly craned his neck. Half a dozen guards who patrolled the streets lay on the floor, blood pooling from under them. High atop the fence stood the man who had made his life miserable for half a lifetime. His trademark dark robe hung from his skinny body. The ragged purple scarf was there as well. He wore a deep frown across his bony face, which was not unnatural in the least. Falcon had never seen the man display anything that resembled a smile.
Professor Kraimaster jumped down from the gate. His robes batted loudly on the air as he landed on in front of Falcon with a thump.
“What are you doing here, professor?” asked Falcon.
“Zhut your mouth, Mizter Hyatt,” ordered Kraimaster. He didn’t bother to look back at Falcon; instead his eyes remained locked on the dark wielder before him. “You’ve cauzed enough trouble az it iz.”
Me? What did I do? At least I haven’t been hiding who-knows-where as the people of Va’siel suffered. At least that was what he wanted to say, but instead all he did was remain silent.
“I see you are a dual wielder like myself,” said Draknorr, peering at Kraimaster. He brought his hands together and revealed his lightning and dark emblems. “Which means you have to be him. Drogan, the twin-headed serpent of Ladria.”
Twin-headed serpent of Ladria? Falcon had never heard the professor be called by that moniker.
“Well, I suppose you’re the one-headed serpent now. Your other half didn’t survive my attack.” He took a step forward. “Do you know how I killed her?”
If Kraimaster was fazed by his enemy’s words, he didn’t show it. His hardened face remained with its usual frown.
“I used the screeching banshee!” Draknorr cackled. “Oh, you should have heard her crying for her life, crying out your name for aid. It was pathetic!” His laughter grew loud and erratic. “Even as the Banshee tore her apart, she maintained the shield over the children. She could have saved herself had she not wasted the protection on them. That’s why only fools care for others. It brings only destruction on oneself.” He nodded his head. “And now look at you, Drogan. Ready to give your life for the same brat your wife died defending.”
Falcon’s mind received a burst of clear shock. He stood in place, but his mind was speeding through space. Were Draknorr’s words really true? He had no recollection of such an event. It had to be a lie; it
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