Chapter 50
Iyana
Uther had caught up to them.
Facing overwhelming numbers, Altair, Talon, and Kaz fought as best they could. They’d all been separated and engaged several opponents at once. Kaz was in her black leopard form, blood dripping from her maw. Altair again had his sword of fire and was also utilizing other aspects of his magic to take down his enemies. Talon, as the only human, was doing amazingly. Multiple bodies were scattered around him.
But the wild card was the wailers. There were four of them taking part in the carnage, drawn in by the sounds and blood. The creatures didn’t care who they killed so long as they got a meal. Iyana’s stomach soured, threatening to lose her small snack, when she saw the blood coating their ghastly white faces. One even held a severed arm and was taking bites out of it periodically while still slashing at others. So far it seemed her friends were doing well at evading them, always putting one of Uther’s men between themselves and the wailers. They wouldn’t last forever, though, and needed Iyana and Emmeric’s help. Badly.
She took a step towards the glittering, magical barrier, ready to aid her friends. Emmeric grabbed her and turned until she was gazing into his deep blue eyes instead of the bloodshed only feet away.
“Iyana,” he murmured, “please stay here. Behind the veil, where it’s safe.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. Please don’t make me promise that.”
Emmeric’s face screwed up in concern, pleading. “Please, you can’t fight with weapons, and you only just put on the amulet. You haven’t been able to practice with it at all.” He glanced back towards their friends, anxiety written across his features. “Altair would want you to stay here.”
Iyana frowned. That was a low blow, and he knew it too, judging by his slight wince. “I’m going out there, Em. I won’t let you all die while I cower here in safety.”
He sighed, squeezing her shoulders. “If things go sideways, please promise me you’ll run back here. Uther won’t be able to cross the barrier.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
They both knew she was lying.
“Stay safe, Mouse.”
“You too, Sully.” Before she could talk herself out of it, she raised up on her toes and placed a chaste kiss on Emmeric’s cheek. Without looking to see how he’d reacted, she rushed out into the melee, pulling free the dagger Emmeric had given her ‘just in case.’ Iyana heard him curse behind her. Although she knew she really shouldn’t lead him on, given his feelings for her, Iyana did love him in her own way and wanted to give him a small token of that love and appreciation.
Iyana instantly realized she was way out of her depth. Three of Uther’s soldiers recognized her at the same time and charged towards her, visions of glory shining in their expressions. Panic bolted through her, stilling her legs and loosening her fingers; she almost dropped the dagger onto the dry, cracked ground. Emmeric rushed past her, his twin swords blurring in motion until all three attackers lay dead. Wailers shrieked at the smell of fresh blood and loped over on their creepily long, spindly legs. Emmeric and Iyana both ran, silently agreeing to go to Talon’s aid.
“You’d better live after what you just did in the cave, Mouse,” he shouted over the noise. “I have plans and ideas.”
“Do I even want to know?” They were closing in on Talon now. His red hair flared around him as he expertly fought off three attackers. Iyana blinked and in less than a second he’d taken a dagger and thrown it at one of his opponents. The hilt stuck out of his chest, and the man grabbed at the knife weakly before collapsing.
“I guarantee you want to know.” Iyana glanced back at Emmeric to catch him winking at her. Lust twirled through their bond.
“This really isn’t the time, Em!”
“I disagree. What better time is there?”
“Maybe when we’re not about to die?”
He barked a laugh as they continued sprinting towards Talon. Iyana definitely would never run again once this was over. “Then there may not be another chance, and I’ll take the one I have.”
“Well, I agree with Iyana, old man,” Talon shouted, still swinging his sword. “Get your asses over here and help me!”
Emmeric joined his best friend, fighting back-to-back and seamlessly falling into their practiced fighting style. They’d been doing this together for ten years and known each other their whole lives—they anticipated the others’ movements before they did them. The result was the two of them ducking underneath swords, pivoting, kicking, and switching places without missing a beat. It was beautiful and terrifying. All that time they’d been on the road, joking and laughing, Emmeric whittling and Talon vomiting after blood was shed, it was easy to forget they were trained killers.
Since the two men had these soldiers firmly where they wanted them, Iyana took the moment to reach out to the amulet. She connected to her magic—little fire Alessia—then directed it towards the gem resting in the hollow of her neck. More power than she’d ever felt before rushed through her, making her gasp. Emmeric’s head whipped towards her, somehow hearing the small sound over the din of battle. The distraction cost him, and one of Uther’s men sliced through his ribs. A slight flare of pain registered in Iyana’s side, but with the power of the amulet running through her veins, it was easy to block the worst of it. All she had to do was think of Emmeric’s skin knitted together, and it was done. It took almost no effort at all. Emmeric’s eyebrow raised, but he didn’t miss a step, striking at the man who’d spilled his blood, putting an end to his life.
Magic permeated her body, flowing through her bloodstream, bringing life-altering power to her heart. Her brain. Her fingertips. Tingles ran over her skin as she suddenly felt confined, like this shell was too small for her might. She was a goddess. Zaya reborn. Silver hazed over her vision. It would be nothing to end all these men. With a snap of her fingers, they’d be laying dead at her feet, forever in supplication. To her. Uther would rue the day he had imprisoned and murdered her parents. The day he had imprisoned her. With this amount of power, she could raise Azazel from the depths of Phaedros’s pit to exact her own revenge. Nothing was impossible for her now.
Cool hands bracketed her face, and as she readied to smite the intruder, familiar cool blue eyes pierced through the silver surrounding her.
“Come back, Mouse,” Emmeric said, softly. She shouldn’t have been able to hear him over the cacophony of the battle still raging around them, and the blood rushing through her brain, but it came through clearly—more in her head than her ears. Why would she ever relinquish this power? Unfettered, raw magic would make her invincible. Unstoppable. She should kill the man in front of her for suggesting such a thing. Electricity built in her chest, ready to strike.
“Come back to me.” Resting his brow against hers, he kept his familiar blue eyes open, pleading. His thumbs traced along her cheeks. Calm ran through the bond wrapped around her heart, accompanied with a tinge of panic, and an undercurrent of something that felt suspiciously like love.
Suddenly, the power collapsed, reeling back into her with a gasp. Her toes hit the ground. Emmeric fed soothing emotions to her continuously. Cautiously, she reconnected to the amulet, and when the magic filled her this time, it wasn’t as intense; her Kanaliza’s influence aiding to keep the vengeful side of her at bay. Emmeric released a shaky breath. Iyana’s hands trembled.
“There you are,” he smiled.
“Astalle!” Altair shouted from the other end of battle. Looking his way, she saw why he’d called her. A wailer was lumbering their way, arms outstretched. Emmeric was halfway towards shoving her behind him, brandishing his sword towards the monster towering a foot taller than him. But Iyana was done with the wailers. Done being helpless. While the creatures had helped by thinning out Uther’s men for them, she couldn’t risk them killing her friends instead. She pulled the magic towards her chest, then channeled it down her arm. Making a slashing motion with her hand, same as she had done before, the magic arced out of her in a blaze of silver. The wailer split in half, but its legs continued to run towards them, not quite understanding there was no longer a head directing them. Said head was on the ground, mouth spasming wildly. Iyana would be happy to never again see another wailer once this was over.
There was still an inordinate amount of Uther’s soldiers. It was impossible to tell where they were all coming from. Just as Iyana thought they were turning the tide, more would arrive out of the brown haze. Altair’s sword of flames was dimming and Kaz’s bites didn’t carry as much force. Iyana desperately wished to call a retreat to the tomb, but she and Emmeric were the only ones allowed inside. She hadn’t even caught sight of Uther yet. It would be so much easier to cut the head off the snake than to fight each man individually. There was no chance they’d win if forced to battle this way. Frustration rang through her. She and Emmeric had devised such a brilliant plan, and it was all for naught.
“Iyana!” This time the one shouting her name was Talon. He and Emmeric had been circling her, keeping her safe between them, and she’d occasionally lash out with her magic to give them aid. Saving her magic was the smarter move, though. Unfortunately, they had learned nothing about the astmina, or what she might face once she did finally confront Uther. Les’s amulet was another wild card—there was no way of knowing its limits. And Iyana didn’t want to draw from her Kanaliza unless it was absolutely necessary. He’d need all his wits about him.
Tal was pointing to a deadened tree in the distance. Laying at the base of it was an unmoving body. Iyana noticed the dark, wavy hair and pale skin. It was Zane! Oh gods, was he dead? Talon was desperately fighting opponent after opponent to get to the prince, but he wasn’t making much headway. A wailer slunk towards Zane.
Iyana sprinted out from between Emmeric and Talon, spearing towards the prone prince. I’m never running again after this. Lungs burning, she spurred her legs forward, giving another aspect of her magic a test by directing it towards her feet. Suddenly she was standing next to Zane, stopping on the balls of her feet and pinwheeling her arms to keep from falling over. She’d beaten the wailer to him, but the screeching was still too close. Iyana spun around, blasting fire out of her palms. The monster had been about to grab the back of her shirt; instead, its tattered clothing went up in flames, the shrieking changing in pitch as it ran off. White skin gradually darkened to black as the fire overtook the ghastly creature. Eventually it fell to its knees, then face forward in the dirt.
Kneeling at Zane’s side, she hastily searched for a pulse and found it faint and thready, and a rattling wheeze emanated from his lungs. At least he was alive. As she gave him a once-over, Iyana hissed at the sight in front of her. Burns scorched his naked skin in multiple places, his fingers and toes were black and shriveled at the tips from frostbite. Peeling his eyelid up, the burst blood vessels told her he’d been drowned repeatedly. Gods, was this what she’d looked like after Azazel’s treatment? A shudder ran through her at the memory of the rattish man. Hovering her hands over Zane, she could sense all the broken bones inside his body as well. This poor man…
Sending a prayer to Imera, and another to Mata Imo, Iyana placed her hands on Zane, pushing healing magic into him. It was more difficult than when she healed Emmeric—she shared no bond with the prince. The extent of his injuries also contributed to the complexity. She sought each broken bone, knitting them together (she could heal bones!), refilled and patched his punctured lung, smoothed out the burns on his skin, and rekindled skin growth in his fingers and toes. Those would be numb for quite some time, but at least they wouldn’t need to be amputated. Iyana straightened out his broken nose, then paused with her hands over his skull. This was not good. She chanced a glance back at Talon who had finally gotten free and was running towards them, panic written over his face.
Movement out of the corner of her vision had her spinning on her knees, instincts grabbing her dagger off the ground and slamming it into a man’s inner thigh. One of Uther’s soldiers collapsed, dropping the sword that had been aiming for her neck, his hands grasping towards the knife which she had stabbed into his leg to the hilt. He reached to pull it out of his body.
“Don’t—” Iyana yelled, but of course he didn’t listen, yanking the dagger free. Blood spurted in time with the man’s diminishing heart beat. Iyana had severed the femoral artery. The only reason he’d lived as long as he had was because the knife was acting as a stopgap, keeping his blood inside his body. But by removing it, the man had doomed himself. It took only seconds for him to bleed out.
Iyana’s chest constricted. She’d never killed before. She was meant to save people as a healer, had even taken an oath when she began her studies. A sob lodged in her throat, but she couldn’t dwell on this now. Zane still needed her aid.
Talon slid into her side on his knees, giving only a cursory glance to the dead man next to her. “How is he?”
“Um…” she hedged, unsure if she should lie to him.
“Tell me, Iyana.” Talon’s panicked blue eyes were wide. “Please,” he whispered.
“He had multiple burns and broken bones, some frostbite. I’ve healed those, but—” She hovered her hands over his skull again, frowning.
“But what?” Talon barked. Iyana started. Her friend never spoke in that tone. “Sorry,” he said, his voice still strained. “Iyana…”
“His, uh, his head. He has multiple skull fractures, there’s swelling in the lining of his brain, and a—” she swallowed roughly “—a bleed inside his brain. I only just figured out I can mend bones, Tal. I don’t know if I can fix this.” Iyana turned her head towards him, tears springing forth. “I’m so sorry.”
“Try.”
“What?” She couldn’t try…Zane’s brain was bleeding, applying a significant amount of pressure that Iyana wasn’t sure was fixable. And even if she could repair everything, would he return whole?
Talon placed a hand over hers, lowering it to Zane’s damaged head. He brushed the prince’s matted locks back softly. “Try, Iyana. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I could kill him,” she whispered.
“And if you do nothing? What would happen then?” Talon was too calm. Iyana had basically told him the man he loved was dying, and he was sitting there, stroking his hair. Shock. He had to be in shock.
“He dies.”
Talon nodded solemnly. “Then try, Iyana. I trust you. I don’t think you’ll let him die.”
Iyana took a deep breath, readying herself. “I think you’re putting too much faith in me, Tal, but I’ll try my best.”
Another steadying breath. Fingers situated at Zane’s temples. Please, Imera. Zaya. …Grandmother. Zane is a good man. He’s suffered enough at his father’s hands. Please let me help him.
Then she poured magic into him.