Blood Feast: A Fantasy Romance

Prey

Even underground, Cassia couldfeel that twilight had fallen in the world outside. Restlessness in her blood made her eager to escape this place of bones and magefire. But facing the black roses that marked the portal, she felt equal apprehension.

She secured her dagger belt around the waist of her dark, sturdy travel robes. Then she turned to her longest-serving weapon and rested her hand on Knight’s broad shoulders. “Ckuundat.”

He went into an alert stance, ready for any threat waiting for them outside. Beside him, Freckles put her ears back.

Mak led Bear to the door with a slight touch on the horse’s neck. “Any ideas about where to find Miranda?”

Cassia shook her head. “She escaped the Lustra’s hold under Rudhira’s nose. She could be anywhere.”

“We have one lead.” Lio joined them, Final Word sheathed on Moonflower’s saddle. “Something I heard at Mederi village. The elderly farmers there mentioned she has hiding places where she can disappear anytime her enemies get too close.”

“You think they might know where some of her dens are?” Lyros asked, already waiting ahead of them by the portal.

“Or perhaps they know other people who are likely to give her refuge,” Cassia added.

“We should start by asking them.” Lio looked between Mak and Lyros. “Do you have any idea where the Charge took the residents of Mederi Village for safety after evacuating them from Patria?”

“Let me think,” said Lyros. “Mak and I were casting wards on the walls, but I’m sure we heard where Solia planned to settle them.”

Mak snapped his fingers. “Callen and Benedict had that argument about it, remember?”

Ben. Cassia had been trying not to think about him. It still hurt that the devout knight judged her for choosing Hespera’s path. Their friendship had survived every ordeal but this.

Mak winced. “Callen insisted Hadria was safest because their warriors are superior, but Benedict was determined they should go to Segetia because the ‘bread basket of Tenebra will keep them better fed.’”

Cassia rolled her eyes. “Typical. They can stick their swords in enemies side by side and still keep up this foolish rivalry.”

“I think it’s becoming their language of love,” Mak quipped.

So Benedict would let go of the age-old feud and centuries of murder between Hadria and Segetia before he could accept her as a Hesperine. She should have known a holy knight would forgive warriors who had been his enemies sooner than a heretic who had been his friend.

“Who won the debate?” Lio asked.

“Segetia,” said Mak. “The Charge agreed to step the evacuees past the territory Lucis controls and into the safety of Flavian’s borders.”

Flavian’s name, on the other hand, no longer phased Cassia. Her unwanted betrothal to the future Free Lord of Segetia truly did feel like another life. But she sensed Lio bristle.

Her throat tightened. They had freed her from her mortal betrothal, only for her to ruin their Hesperine avowal.

Lyros offered the map to Mak. “Did they say where in Segetia they’re taking the farmers? It’s a large domain.”

Mak marked a spot where two rivers merged. “Solia has placed Benedict, as a holy knight in the Order of Andragathos, in command of safety and charity toward the evacuees. I believe he and his men have gone to this area to resettle the villagers.”

“Let us hope we can avoid them all,” Cassia said. “I have no interest in sharing the happy news of my Gifting with Ben.”

Lio scowled. “Might as well feed roses to swine.”

“We shouldn’t simply step to the farmers, in any case,” Lyros said. “We might land in the middle of the Charge’s fangs or holy knights’ swords. Cassia, do you have memories of any locations in that area that we can use as a stepping focus?”

“Yes, I can think of a place that should be sufficiently out of the way.”

“To Segetia it is, then.” Lyros beckoned to them. “Let’s get out of here so we can step.”

It was time for Cassia to open the portal. Her heart began to race. Lio rested his hand on that sensitive spot low on her back. Despite the unresolved debate between them, her treacherous body shivered pleasantly.

“A drop of your blood should work again,” he suggested.

“There must be a way to get the roses to let us through without causing more magical upheavals.”

He said nothing more, but she sensed that this discussion was not over, like the one her appetite had interrupted last night.

She took a cautious step toward the vine. It slithered aside, and the stone shuddered, once again opening a broad portal. She breathed a sigh of relief.

They led their horses out into the night. Dark clouds obscured the stars, but the landscape looked bright in the eerie orange glow of the lighthouse.

Fear jolted Cassia’s chest, but this time it wasn’t her own. She caught the scent of blood amid the rain and salt on the wind. Human fear. Human bloodshed.

They all whipped around to look up at the lighthouse. No sound came from within the monument, only suffering.

“What’s happening in there?” she breathed.

“I don’t know,” Lio said, “but there are no other Hesperines to intervene but us.”

“This could be a conflict between mortals that’s outside our purview,” Lyros cautioned.

“It probably is,” Mak said, “but are any of us really prepared to turn our backs on these people?”

Cassia dug her hand into her breastbone, but nothing could ease the human pain pouring into her chest. “We have to help them.”

“We’re Hesperines errant now,” said Lio. “Is there any fight in this kingdom that isn’t our fight?”

Lyros, despite his cautionary words, had already drawn Night’s Aim. “We’ll leave the horses here and go in under veils to assess the situation. Everyone in favor of this plan?”

They all nodded in agreement. Cassia’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding. In the moments they took to decide this, someone might die. But if they went in without a plan, would it cost even more lives?

Lyros pricked his thumb and smeared blood on the Union Stone below his spearhead. All four of their stones flared bright, urgent red. “If I give this signal, let’s attack together. Mak and I will levitate and surprise any enemies from above. Cassia, Lio, you two take the stairs with Knight and ambush them from below. We should keep our weapons hidden until the last possible moment. No one will expect Hesperines to be armed. It’s a powerful advantage of surprise.”

Mak and Lyros lifted off the ground while Lio and Cassia raced up the bluff. Knight followed in three liegehound leaps up the ledges.

The door of the lighthouse hung open on broken hinges. They plunged inside and took the spiral stairs at Hesperine speed. Knight bounded ahead of her, and Lio guarded her back. Each time a doorway spun past them, she expected an enemy to spring out.

“Hama,” Cassia murmured as they neared the open hatch at the top of the steps. Knight drew back, and she flattened herself against the wall to keep herself in shadow. The Mage King’s fire cast harsh light down into the stairwell.

Good idea, Lio approved. No telling how this specimen of our opposing element might affect our magic.

Even if he was my ancestor, Cassia agreed.

They crept toward the opening. When she saw what awaited them above, she froze.

There was no battle. It looked like the lighthouse guards hadn’t had a chance to fight. The pride of Hadria’s warriors were bound and gagged on the deck surrounding the massive bronze brazier.

Four figures stood over them, armed with tools perverted into weapons. She knew those dark robes and that leather armor. For the first time, she could smell the blood that painted their breastplates with the Eye of Hypnos. Each one of those glyphs had cost a human sacrifice. She put a hand over her mouth, gagging.

Gift Collectors.

Lio put an arm out to support her. His pressed his cool hand to her forehead, his magic sinking into her thoughts. She welcomed the spell that subdued the parts of her mind sending sickening signals to her stomach. She couldn’t afford to retch in battle.

They’re using Lord Hadrian’s men as bait!she cried. They know we’ll feel compelled to save them.

And that’s exactly what we’ll do. I’ll keep you veiled. Use your dagger on the guards’ bonds while Mak and Lyros fight. I’ll work on the Gift Collectors’ dream wards.

All right.

Surprise flashed through Lio, as if he had expected her to protest. Usually, she would have. But tonight, she accepted the safest role in silence. She didn’t trust her magic in this fight.

Crimson light spilled from Lio’s staff and the scabbard at her belt. Their Union Stones glowed with Lyros’s signal to attack.

“Ckabaar!” she cried to Knight.

Her hound lunged through the hatch. She pushed herself away from the wall and darted forward. Lio was already ahead of her, holding Final Word in both hands.

Knight slammed into the Gift Collector on their left. The man grunted in surprise and fell backward. He raised a woodcutter’s hatchet, striking at the veiled menace he couldn’t see. The swing barely skimmed Knight’s fur.

Lio met the enemy on their right, this one wielding a long, sharpened stake. He aimed a flash of light magic at the Gift Collector’s eyes. The man squinted, but he lunged forward with uncanny speed, his stake aimed at Lio’s heart.

Thelemancy shot out of Lio. Pain flared in her head as his spell hit the first layer of dream wards that guarded the Gift Collectors’ minds. Both attackers hesitated. Then the stake kept coming toward Lio’s heart.

Before Cassia could scream, Lio raised his staff across his chest and drove the shaft up against the stake. Adamas met wood and snapped the stake in two. The Gift Collector took a step back, his face betraying surprise. Lio advanced on him.

Now Cassia could slip past their duel to reach the first guard. She knelt and drew her dagger. The sight of the man’s bound hands made her stomach turn again. The Gift Collectors had extracted all his fingernails. They had made him suffer to draw Hesperines to his pain. And to entertain themselves while they waited for their prey.

When she touched his wrists, he jumped, then groaned.

“Don’t be afraid,” she whispered, slicing carefully at his bonds. “We are Queen Solia’s Hesperine allies, here to fight for you.”

Her words felt empty, when they were also the reason the Gift Collectors had targeted him. But the man relaxed. That simple gesture of trust made his pain in her chest hurt all the more.

A whisper cut through the air. A few paces away from her, a third Gift Collector staggered. He stared down at the spear now protruding from his chest, stained with his heart’s blood.

The Star of Orthros swept out of nowhere, bright in the darkness. The man crumpled around Mak’s spiked club and went flying off the side of the tower.

The first heart stopped.

Night’s Aim levitated backward out of the silent organ and flew into Lyros’s hand.

Cassia swallowed hard and kept sawing at the rope, cutting through the malign enchantments that strengthened it. Her spade had defeated a Gift Collector’s cursed bonds before, and it would again, by the Goddess.

Lyros and Mak turned in tandem, back to back, just in time for Mak to block an attack from the fourth Gift Collector. The necromancer’s pickaxe tangled with the spikes on Mak’s club. Lyros, with the long reach of his spear, aimed at the Gift Collector Knight had brought down.

The hatchet wielder managed to heave off Knight’s weight and rolled to one side. Night’s Aim struck the stones where the man’s eye had been. Rolling to his feet, the Gift Collector had to shift all his focus to Lyros to fend off his relentless spear.

“Leave this one to me,” Lyros called to her. “Tell Knight to protect Lio while he casts!”

Cassia nodded and called out to her hound, “Barda lomalii!”

His guard bond invoked, Knight pivoted to join Lio’s duel. The Gift Collector kept her hound at bay with another stake from the gruesome collection at his belt. In his other hand, he swung an iron chain that glowed with rusted light. The links caught Final Word and wound three times around the center of the staff between Lio’s hands.

Lio wrenched his weapon free, and the chain snapped. But the gleaming rust clung to the staff.

What magic is that?she asked as it crept toward Lio’s hands.

He hissed, but didn’t lose his grip. It’s eating away my veils. He can see my weapon now.

Cassia swore. She should be at his side, tearing through his enemy with all the power in her veins.

But would she only cause him more harm if she tried?

His voice was adamant in her mind. Get the mortals out of here before this battle gets any uglier.

Finally the cursed rope gave way. Cassia helped Lord Hadrian’s soldier to his feet. “Can you make it out of the lighthouse?”

“Give me a sword,” the warrior pleaded. “I won’t run from a battle.”

“Please, go. These are Orthros’s enemies, not yours. Save your life and your blade for the Queen, and let your honor be satisfied.”

He stood frozen for an instant, his face twisted with indecision. “You can signal for aid. There are herbs by the fire—throw them in, and help will come from Castra Hadria.”

“We will,” she reassured him. Even though Castra Hadria was the last place they could turn to for aid. “Tell Lord Hadrian…”

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

“Tell him the Hesperines known as the Black Roses did what we could for his people tonight.”

“I will make sure my lord hears of your deeds.” The soldier ran for the stairwell, cradling his bleeding hands against his chest.

Cassia raced toward the next warrior. His left eye socket was a bleeding mess. His right eye, rimmed in white, darted back and forth, searching the darkness.

“Don’t be afraid,” she said again.

She moved from one wounded man to the next, murmuring Hespera’s reassurances to them, just as Hesperines had always done for her.

Lio’s magic ebbed and surged around her. Knight leapt and circled, avoiding the Hesperines’ most skilled enemy with the same speed and agility that made him deadly to immortals. The Gift Collector dodged each swing of Final Word, keeping his stake clear of the staff’s heavy blows. The pain of their mental battle twisted his face. But the agony that echoed in Cassia’s head was Lio’s as he ground down the necromancer’s next dream ward.

She focused on the one task she could control and forced herself to keep sawing at the ropes, keep showing the soldiers Mercy. There had been no glory or honor for them, only subjugation and humiliation at the hands of enemies far too powerful even for Tenebra’s best warriors. But they were alive, and one by one, she sent them out of harm’s way.

They struggled past Mak and Lyros, who were locked in a brutal dance with their two opponents, their weapons glowing with the rust-magic now. Mak grappled at close range with the pickaxe wielder. The Gift Collector with the hatchet fought on against Lyros, one arm useless at his side. She glimpsed a gash on Mak’s arm that wasn’t healing and a tear in Lyros’s black battle robe that leaked blood onto his silver sash. She could not tell who was wearing down whom.

The last captive’s leg was bent at the wrong angle. She slung his arm around her shoulders and helped him stand without putting weight on his shattered calf bone. He felt so light to her, this mortal whose life would depend on her across the last few paces to safety. She held her dagger at the ready in her other hand.

Knight’s yelp tore at her heart. She looked to see him tangled in the necromancer’s chain, struggling to get up. Stone clanged on metal, and the Gift Collector’s weapon locked with Final Word, a hand’s breadth from Lio’s face. No wooden stake now. Cassia recognized the carved dagger in the necromancer’s grip. A relic blade like the one Miranda had used in her twisted experiments for Kallikrates.

Lio! Cassia called helplessly in his mind.

Get the mortal to safety.

Her skull throbbed with vicarious agony. It took all the Will she possessed to keep going. At last, she and the soldier reached the stairwell, where two of his comrades who could still walk were waiting to help him.

She spun to face the battle, Rosethorn in her hand. Why had she never let Kella teach her how to throw a knife? Through the wavering flames, Mak and Lyros were cast in bronze and fighting two statues that never seemed to break. Lio was the tall, dark shadow in front of the magefire, his magic rending thoughts, his staff cracking bone. Still she wavered on the edge of the skirmish.

The Lustra reached out to her from below. At her call, it would rise up and tear this tower from its foundations. Not protection, but destruction.

A phantom pain drove into the front of Cassia’s shoulder. She watched blood bloom on Lio’s robe, and her entire vision seemed to fill with red. The stone dagger was buried to the hilt in his flesh.

He spun his staff and slammed it into the crook of the necromancer’s arm. The man lost his grip on his dagger. But already too close under Lio’s guard, he drove his stake into Lio’s side.

Cassia screamed with rage, her fist tight on her dagger hilt.

A quiet magic caressed her palm. She looked down at Rosethorn. She had rubbed her fingers raw on the ropes, and her blood trickled down the blade.

She reached for that safe, familiar power. She felt all four of the weapons stir with the same energy. Just as she had in Nike’s forge, she Willed her magic through her dagger and into the other three artifacts.

Black roses snaked along Lio’s staff, and he let out a shout of surprise. The rabid vines tore the stake from the Gift Collector’s hands and kept growing. The necromancer leapt back, but not fast enough. The roses crawled over the floor, snared his legs, and snapped him off his feet.

His head cracked back against the stone. Lio wrenched the dagger out of his shoulder, and then a bolt of thelemancy drove out of him. Through their Union, Cassia felt the last of the Gift Collector’s mental defenses crumble. His poisonous thoughts flew in fragments through Lio’s mind. Cassia clutched her head, nearly doubling over with the pain in her skull.

The second heart stopped.

She looked for Mak and Lyros’s opponents. The hatchet wielder was impaled on Lyros’s spear against one pillar, a vine of thorns tearing apart the Eye of Hypnos on his breastplate. For the third time, a mortal heart went quiet.

The Gift Collector with the pickaxe fled toward the edge of the tower, pursued by the carpet of black roses spreading out from where Cassia stood. He was ready to leap when Mak caught his throat in a powerful grip and dragged him back from the edge. He tossed the man down onto the deck and let the roses have him.

The last beat of his pulse brought silence.

Mak surveyed the carnage. “So. That’s what the enchantment does.”