One Hour (Con't)

The silence behind the monolith was a fragile, dangerous thing. It wasn't the peace of safety, but the strained quiet before a predator strikes. I could feel the ripple of Atlas’s presence—the raw, corrupted power of the Elder God—as he scoured the empty space where my magic trail had vanished. He was a hundred feet away, maybe more, circling like a shark that had lost the blood scent.
*Thirty-three minutes.*
I needed to move, and quickly. Being trapped behind this stone, exhausted and magically depleted, was the perfect way to be cornered. I forced my breathing to steady, listening past the frantic drumming of my own heart.
He was moving west, away from my children. Good.
I pushed off the monolith, using the briefest moment of leverage to propel myself **due North** again, but this time not running. I stayed low, weaving through the underbrush, utilizing every shadow, every tree trunk, every natural obstruction the ancient forest offered. I moved like the Shadow Guard I had just called upon—silent, fast, and utterly focused.
The consecrated dagger, now dull and silent, was held in a reverse grip. My mind shifted from strategy to immediate, physical survival.
*I am not just the Queen. I am a Dragon, and I am a mother.*
A mother's instinct is a weapon more potent than any sword. I could sense my children, two faint, flickering lights on the horizon of my awareness. They were ahead, small and vulnerable, but moving with the same desperate, focused energy. They were closer to the ridge now, navigating the increasingly broken ground that signaled the rise of the escarpment.
Then, a sound cut through the stillness that made my stomach clench: a low, rhythmic *thump, thump, thump*.
It wasn't a footfall. It was the sound of something **large beating the air**.
Atlas wasn't tracking me on the ground anymore. He had given up the slow hunt and taken to the sky.
The Hunter Above
I froze instantly, melting against the base of a massive oak. The sound intensified, now accompanied by the shuddering rush of air being displaced. Looking up, I saw nothing but the thick, black canopy, but I knew what was happening. Atlas was in his **full, Elder God-infused Dragon form**, a shape-shift he could only maintain for short bursts due to his wound, but which gave him overwhelming aerial advantage.
He was flying low, just above the treetops, using his incredible sight to pierce the darkness. He wasn't relying on my magic anymore; he was hunting by sight, sound, and the residual scent of Dragon blood.
The ridge. I had to reach the broken, rocky ground of the ridge base. The dense canopy would thin there, but the massive, jagged shadows of the rocks would offer concealment.
I began to sprint again, not blindly, but darting from cover to cover. The *thump, thump* of his wings grew louder, closer. He was quartering the area I had just left, searching the Ley Line nexus. He was going to find the children's trail first. They hadn't used any masking magic.
The trees began to thin, and the ground started to rise sharply. I smelled rock, pine, and the cold air of altitude—the **Old Watchtower Ridge**.
I spotted them. Twenty yards ahead, standing at the base of a huge, striated cliff face, were Sophie and Lysander. Sophie, her small hands raised in a gesture of desperation, was looking up, her face pale.
She had seen him.
I threw caution to the wind. "Sophie! Lysander! Hide!" I shouted, a raw, piercing sound that cut through the wing-beat and the wind.
My shout gave Atlas his target. The wing-beat immediately checked its course and bore down on my position.
I reached the children in three frantic strides. I grabbed Lysander by the arm, shoving him toward a narrow, shadowed fissure in the cliff face.
"Go! Deep inside! Don't make a sound!"
Sophie, instead of hiding, seized my hand, her eyes huge and terrified, but burning with a fierce, protective light.
"He's going to burn the trees!" she cried, pointing up.
I followed her gaze. Through a gap in the canopy, a monstrous, purplish shadow blotted out the faint moonlight. A sickly, **violet fire** was gathering in its maw, not the beautiful, clean gold of Dragon-fire, but a ruinous, chaotic Elder God-flame.
He was going to bombard the entire clearing to force us out, or kill us trying.
*Twenty-five minutes remain.*
I looked at the fissure where Lysander was already vanishing. I looked at the vast, granite cliff face. I looked at the terrifying, descending shadow.
I shoved Sophie hard toward her brother. "Now, little Dragon! Hide!"
Then, I spun, facing the sky. I raised the now-silent consecrated dagger, not as a weapon, but as a sacrifice. I had nothing left to power a defense, but I had one thing Atlas did not: the **Queen's Bloodline** and the absolute, untainted strength of the **Heartwood**.
"Come and face me, Atlas!" I roared, throwing every last ounce of my magical will into the challenge. "The children are safe! You will only find me!"
The violet light in the sky expanded, blinding and deadly, aimed directly at the lone figure below.