30. Chapter 30
B ryna laughed as the first striga 1 breached the shield wall, swinging her hammer against the monster’s skull. At the sickening crunch, she howled in triumph, turning to her female warriors to shout her encouragement. They roared in answer and braced their spears. Some of them were already wounded, but not a single one retreated from the overwhelming forces.
‘C’mon you fuckers, who wants to live forever!’ she shouted, and the women pushed forward, skewering the monsters attacking them. I didn’t know who taught them to fight in a phalanx formation, an ancient military technique where warriors moved as one behind a wall of shields, but it was impressive to watch. However, it wasn’t enough, and at the sight of so much death, I felt a dark fury rise inside me.
Fire, my natural element, came easily to me, and soon, not just my hands but the air around me burned with my rage.
‘Annika, no! Your job is to get to the sigil!’ Katja shouted when I pushed forward, but I felt like a woman possessed. Vahin’s pain radiated through the bond, and the sounds of dying and the metallic stench of blood permeated the air, releasing the hatred of the women who’d sacrificed themselves, a hatred that cared little for my safety.
I blasted aethereal fire into the horde of monsters, destroying those closest to my protectors. An echo of my power travelled to the leech attached to Alaric’s Anchor, and I felt a flash of surprise followed by her pain.
Rowena had dared to use my Ari, the man who’d been foolishly caring enough to want to rescue her when he could have been here protecting his friends.
Eat that, bitch, I thought, laughing at the unexpected discovery. Gods, we could have used Ari’s help .
A swarm of half-rotten remnants, ghouls, and other grave fodder covered the battlefield. They fought, uncaring of wounds or missing limbs, until their complete destruction. I saw fae necromancers freezing the undead in place so soldiers could crush the monsters’ skulls, but there weren’t enough of them. A thought came to me in a flash of inspiration.
Can I do it?
I wasn’t just Anchored to Alaric, we were blood-bonded. I was sure that was how Rowena got to me, so if the link was still there ...
Fire raged around me as I closed my eyes, trusting my companions to keep me safe. I dived into the Anchor bond, leaving a blazing trail of dragon fire, and reached for the corrupted connection. Hello sister-in-law, you owe me one, I jeered, tracing the connection with the little aether I had at my disposal.
Alaric’s magic was there, a vast reservoir of spells and skills untouched by the Lich King. I called for it, not expecting it to work, but I was willing to try anything. Knowledge flooded my mind, his unique talent merging with mine, infusing my core with a surge of power.
Alaric had given himself to me with complete trust, as did his magic, recognising me.
I knew what I had to do.
When I opened my eyes to view the battlefield, I saw it bathed in the violet colour of necromancy. I recognised the patterns, and my new knowledge tripped off my tongue. I reached for the aether, drawing from the bond that burned in my soul.
‘ Rashta! ’ 2
The surrounding undead immediately dropped to their knees, their heads bowing in submission as I held them.
‘Kill them! Aim for the head!’ I ordered, giving my she-wolf army their fill of blood.
I walked towards the Rift, letting the spell spread over the battlefield before me. Soldiers looked at me, stunned, but quickly shook off their initial shock and joined the attack. I could deal with the undead, but the Lich King had sent enough living monsters to prevent necromancers from turning the tide of battle.
‘Annika, watch out!’ Bryna shouted right before the ground erupted in front of us and countless creatures spewed forth. The undead dropped to their knees straight away, but the others charged at us, unaffected by my spell.
It wasn’t just the sleeping army that had emerged to fight us. There were too many of them for that to be the case. It felt like Cahyon was throwing everything he had at us, convinced he could win in one fell swoop.
As Bryna ordered her women into defensive positions, I heard Reynard shout a command. I couldn’t understand the words, but a trumpet’s clarion call sang out, and suddenly, the field around us was filled with soldiers.
‘Where the fuck are you going? Orm said you couldn’t cast,’ Reynard shouted at me, his stallion dancing on hind legs, his hooves spraying dirt in my face.
‘Men!’ I muttered. ‘I’m going to open that damn passage. Once I’m done, lead your riders there and kill the bastard. Now, get out of my way!’ I shouted back.
The trumpets’ call changed, and the army regrouped, targeting our major opponents after the olgoi worms, who were being tackled by the dwarven infantry. The king’s cataphracts charged at the enemies surrounding us, aiming for the fiercest, like the biesy 3 and manticores, 4 leaving the smaller monsters to our infantry, and my safety to Bryna and her soldiers.
It was a bloody and painstakingly slow march, but we pushed forward, supported by my spell. I looked up to the skies, biting my lip as I watched the battle above. Spectrae, harpies, 5 and latawce 6 ripped into our dragons, and those who weren’t dealing with the vampiric ghosts chased and burned the demons that tore chunks of flesh from the dragons’ sides.
Vahin dominated the centre of the arial battlefield like a dark shadow blotting out the sun. He was the bait again, and he was fighting a losing battle. I felt his exhaustion through our link. I should have known it would end this way. The Lich King wouldn’t have left anything to chance, and our dragons were our most potent weapon.
‘Hold the perimeter!’ Orm shouted at his men while Vahin endured the tortuous tendrils of the attacking spectrae.
‘Ani, we need to move.’
Bryna grabbed my arm, pushing me through the temporary corridor the soldiers had created. My small unit naturally arranged itself into an arrow formation, my friend in the lead. That way, whoever didn’t fall prey to the orc’s hammer lost their lives on the swords of her unit.
A heavy thump and rumble against the trampled ground caught my attention. Reynard’s cataphracts began withdrawing only to wheel around and ram into the beasts swarming on our flank, scattering them like chaff. The monsters regrouped quickly, and the heavily armoured horses and their lance-wielding riders clashed with them again. Biesy, trolls, and manticores rushed forth, smashing into the struggling army.
It was painfully obvious we were losing this battle, just like we were losing more women to our newest opponents. Corrupted Moroi, lithe and viciously quick, were slipping past the inexperienced warriors, but no one fell. The severely injured were pulled back from the front and immediately replaced by fresh fighters.
No one seemed to be free of injury now; even I had fresh blood dripping from my shoulder, and when I looked, I couldn’t restrain my surprise at the long scrape from the arrow that had pierced my flesh.
I relentlessly pushed forward, casting one spell after another, subduing the undead as we slogged through the heavy mud.
We were almost there, so close to the shadow of my suffering dragon that I was buffeted by each beat of his wings.
He was dying.
I could feel it through our bond, and hatred curled my lips when I saw the damage caused by the spectrae. Vahin’s thoughts were unfocused and unguarded as he faltered, his tired wings beating slower and more erratically. Vampiric ghosts trailed behind him, and his descent spread a bloody mist and the stench of death over the battlefield.
‘ Goodbye, my light . . . ’
The weakening echo of his thought flooded my mind with memories that weren’t mine, just like the whispers from the Dark Mother’s maze.
The memories burned with the stench of a funeral pyre, each scene steeped in despair. A ravaged village. A helpless mother cradling the lifeless body of her toddler. Each vision was a shard of anguish, the memories of the nineteen lives I’d taken, their hatred for the enemy making me a vessel for their revenge.
All rational thought disappeared, consumed by their collective pain. I stared at my arms, etched with the symbols of their sacrifice. Ablaze, they seared my flesh with an excruciating, soul-deep chill that demanded justice.
‘Be kind to them, Arachne, and help me put their spirits to rest,’ I whispered the name I hadn’t said since I left her realm, unsure what else to do.
‘ Always, my child, ’ whispered a voice in the wind, and I reeled, shocked that the unfeeling goddess had heard me.
Within my mind, a spell shone with unearthly coruscating light, marked by the touch of a goddess. The magic, as ancient as time itself, could bind the dead, feed on their destruction, and rain chaos on an unexpecting world.
‘ Death is never the end, but those ensnared in my web must be purged to move on. Take their deaths—feed on them and end their torment, ’ the Dark Mother whispered in my mind, her spell revealing itself with all the power of the forbidden arcana. Death magic wasn’t meant for living, and I knew the price was inevitable. The price for death was always life.
My power was already tied to the goddess, the lives of nineteen brave women sacrificed to pave the way. I let the primal force lead me as I closed my eyes, weaving necromancy with the dragon fire burning in my soul. The aether built inside me, amplified by each fallen soldier, a raging torrent I held back by sheer force of will.
I felt my body unravelling under the strain, knowing this was my one and only chance to annihilate the enemy before I was destroyed.
Deep inside, I knew I should open the Rift. That was the reason I’d fought, but I wasn’t strong enough to watch my dragon die.
Suddenly, a dark presence rose inside me, and I felt them all. The twisted spectrae, caught between life and death, forever denied respite in the arms of the Dark Mother. The stumbling remnants, whose last hours were warped by Cahyon’s touch. The fallen soldiers, desperately reaching for the Veil, hoping the afterlife would grant them peace.
It was time to right the wrong, to cleanse the taint of our undead foe. To bring justice to the fallen and to purge the tormented souls from the world of the living. That was what Arachne wanted. It was what I wanted. But the choice was mine and mine alone.
‘ Yes, my child, I chose you for a purpose. Now burn them all. ’
The echo of the Dark Mother’s laugh resonated in my mind as I gathered all the threads in my hand, screaming my hatred into a simple command.