It’s not a Bloodmate union but close to it, as I feel insane power rush through them both now—ten times what they had before—because Baldur’s power resonates with Bjorn’s and Bjorn’s with Baldur’s. That synergy rings both their magics like a symphony of bells now, as both drakes roar.
And their combined magic hurtles towards Mikkel—shifting him up and bursting his chains.
The manacles on Mikkel’s wrists and ankles shatter as he receives all that incredible power from Baldur and Bjorn. I hadn’t planned on joiningit, or Ström, but our energies are twisting into the mix now, unable to withstand, or stand separate from, the incredible might Bjorn and Baldur are creating.
As all our magics twist together from our inner dragons joining the fight, I feel my internal drake and drakaina crash together, renewed in my Bloodwalker power.
It regenerates Mikkel in an instant, as he roars to the skies and thunders the prison catacomb he’s in. He’s free of his manacles, but still trapped inside the rune-insulated prison of the Jarl’s palace. He spews terrible chartreuse green poison all around him now, however, decimating the guards that tortured him and making many of them shift up inside the space to heal the damage, then busts through Lærke’s prison with his black mamba’s head.
Lærke is renewed now that her brother is free, celebrating all through her mad drakaina as she casts poison anew, decimating more of the drakes who were their captors. They can’t escape the gargantuan underground vault they’re trapped in, but both begin bashing their strong, blocky heads against the walls now, ripping at the stone with their talons to tear the prison walls down, as they smash at the stone with their spiked tails.
They’re a terrible power duo as the guards back off, shifting into their own dragons and throwing up a nasty cordon of magic to keep the twins contained. But Mikkel and Lærke blast their unique chartreuse green poison everywhere now, melting that barrier, even as solid stone bubbles and burns from their incredible wrath.
I hear it, as an alarm goes off throughout the Jarl’s palace.
And I know our element of surprise has been taken.“Shit!” I curse, as a fuck-ton of new guards pour into Mikkel and Lærke’s underground prison, shifting up. Because a battle has begun in the dungeons as the twins take on their captors now.
I know Emil Beck and his force will hear that alarm and begin their assault on the palace’s front. Because that was our agreed-upon signal forEmil’s distraction to begin—though we were supposed to beinsidethe palace by then, liberating the twins.
“The alarm’s gone off. We’re out of time.” I turn to my drakes. Everyone is shocked at what just happened, thanks to our power, and they know as much as I do that our time is up.
As Ström gives a curt nod, he hauls ass—trotting fast down the passage now as he feels our next cursed door up ahead. Bjorn gets Baldur under his arm, racing them both on as I stride at their sides. As we get to Ström, he’s already got the next door unlocked stat, thanks to our united amalgamation of magic still flowing through us.
Not to mention Mikkel’s wrathful power now, as he fights with renewed energy and flesh.
Relief pours through me as I see we’ve come through the last door, even though I know we have to fight next. Because I see we’ve emerged somewhere deep beneath Amalienborg Palace, which is ten times larger than it is in the human world, built on far older Danish Blood Dragon palaces that have come and gone over the years.
We’ve come out in some kind of ornate underground palace cistern; gesturing to us and rushing on, Ström knows where he’s going now, as we head through the gleaming cistern inlaid with beautiful designs of gold and silver, then rush up a staircase that leads us into the palace proper.
It’s a shitstorm already, as we arrive in the lowest halls that lead to the dungeons. As guards hurtle around the corner, shocking to a halt to see us, we suddenly clash in the passages.
But though they have cunning magic, wielded in coordinated drives despite the current chaos, we are bonded. Bjorn, Ström, Baldur, and I have the six guards out in an instant, as we leap over them and rush onward to where we feel Mikkel battling inside his prison ahead.
As we turn another corner, finding ourselves in the prison’s foyer right before Mikkel and Lærke’s door, Mikkel feels us arrive. He blasts that rune-encrypted door with a massive gout of poison, shredding it as holes blister through it like acid.
Fifty of the Jarl’s guards are in that foyer now, between us and Mikkel.
Everyone is surprised as we all shift up.
Launching into a battle that no one saw coming, including us.
23
BRIGHT
Adragon battle is a ferocious thing. And Bjorn, Ström, Baldur, and I are unholy terrors now as we shift up and crash into a furious melee with the Jarl of Copenhagen’s guards. Spikes hammer; Bloodlances are thrown in terrible volleys. Magic is everywhere, in furious drives of multi-colored Bloodwind, Bloodlances, and Bloodnets.
But as my drakes and I fight in a nasty, coordinated knot within the fifty palace guards who have now shifted up all around us, we have the benefit of our Bloodbond. There’s nothing like it, as I feel my inner drake and drakaina twist up harder into their united Bloodwalker magic than ever before.
And I become a righteous demon in the flesh.
Baldur’s power breaks all through me now like a star going supernova, Bjorn’s all-dominant rage thundering it to the max. Ström’s vicious darkness loves to fight; he lives for it, as a reckless glee fills him now, happier than anything I’ve ever felt. As Mikkel’s power joins us also, smashing with a blistering wrath into our towering might, my inner dragons go insane. I flood with my united Bloodwalker power.
Then combust—hurling a massive wave of sublimated fire all around us in the dungeons.
That wave of flame is gargantuan; again, it’s made of every color magic, as it uses all our combined dragon-powers to create actual fire, in a way I’ve never even seen any Blood Dragon do. But that firestorm of magic carries Mikkel’s poison and Baldur’s supernova, Bjorn’s rage and Ström’s vicious elation, as it sweeps from me in the center of the fight.
It carries all of my righteous rage and wrath, too, unified now—as I suddenly realize I’m the scariest motherfucker in this fight.
