At Odran’s order, Ciaran turned and spread a final line of fire, and then everyone helped haul the injured people up the slopes to the safety of the medics who’d remained behind.
Ciaran remained on the edge of the grass, watching the fires burn. He saw some of the enemy standing behind the wall of fire, trying to put it out, small spurts of water hitting the flames, but it wasn’t enough, not when Ciaran made the flames leap higher.
And then cheers broke out from the far side of the medic camp.
“They’re retreating!”
Ciaran knew his father’s voice.
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