Revanth asks his uncle to end the war and retreat. Just Olster agrees, a burning missile is launched from the castle. Several more hit, but suddenly one goes out, then another, before they hit.
Looking around for Alton, he spotted a pale, terrified face at the edge of the camp. “Astrid! My love!” Running over to her, he tried to hold her, but she shook free. “Astrid!”
“Here comes another,” she whispered. “No!” she commanded, pointing at the fiery ball. This went out, falling with the others.
Haggard and weak, she stumbled. Revanth rushed to her side, catching her as she fell.
“My love! Stop. You’ll kill yourself.”
“I must. I can’t have you hurt,” she whispered.
Another fireball flew straight toward them. It stopped in midair, spinning wildly until it went out. It crashed to ground like the rest. Alton stood outside the tent, leaning on the standard pole…
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