Chapter 12 Aurora
We were midway up the trail from Solomon’s Rocks to Postavarul Massif when Quakelord’s voice echoed through the forest. “Last one up does laundry for a week!” He leaped over a fallen tree, twisted in the air to cross his forearms above his head, and unleashed his magic. “Yee-haw! Eat dirt, losers!”
The ground rumbled like a waking beast. Dozens of earth pillars erupted from the forest floor with violent force, soil and stone geysering upward in jagged spears.
Each column twisted as it rose, their pointed tips gleaming with moisture and moss.
We were moving at no less than sixty miles per hour.
A direct hit would punch through our bones like a spear through parchment.
“You better hide your cheatin’ ass, ‘cause when I get my hands on you―” Terraknight’s threat died in a snarl. He planted his feet and swept his massive arm in a wide arc.
The earth responded as if part of his body. Every pillar Quakelord had summoned cracked, then exploded outward in a shower of dirt and rock fragments.
Pebbles pelted our faces as we ducked and weaved through the debris field. Clumps of mossy soil splattered against tree trunks, releasing the rich stench of damp earth.
Selena caught my eye and shot me a conceited smirk that said ‘no one messes with my blood source.’
Then the ground bucked, and we lost our footing.
Terraknight’s magic rippled outward in a seismic wave that sent us all tumbling down the mountainside in a chaotic avalanche of limbs and curses. Tree branches whipped our faces and caught in our hair as we crashed through undergrowth.
“Sorry, ladies!” Terraknight’s gravelly voice shook with mirth.
“Sorry my ass!” Selena spat as she rolled to her feet. Dirt streaked her pale cheek like war paint. “When I catch you, Sabin, you’ll be picking rocks out of your teeth for a week!”
“I’ll hold him down for you, Lieutenant!” Gale’s voice carried from further down where she swooped between the trees.
I laughed, a deep belly laugh, as I pulled twigs out of my hair. A beetle the size of my thumb had lodged in the collar of my suit—one of those things that fed on rotting wood―and I flicked it away with a grimace.
Quakelord’s careful topknot had come undone, wild black strands flying in every direction. He cursed loudly enough to wake zmei, which were known for sleeping in the deepest caves, as he realized his cheating had backfired spectacularly.
“Betrayed by my own people,” he groaned, then spat out a mouthful of leaves. “No one has any loyalty anymore!”
Quakelord was a lot like blood on white pants. He could be either grating or hilarious, depending on who had to deal with the mess.
Hummingbird circled overhead like a hunting hawk, then tucked his dove-white wings and plunged toward Terraknight’s retreating figure.
“I’ll make him pay for that, Projector,” he promised with a wicked grin.
There was barely enough space for him to maneuver between the twisted branches, let alone line up a proper strike. But that didn’t stop him…
Wood cracked in the aftermath of his air lance.
A flock of birds exploded from their roosts in a panic of wings and shrieks just as a ninety-foot-tall Scots pine groaned, tilted, and crashed to the ground.
The impact sent tremors throughout the entire mountain, and I palmed the nearest tree to find stability.
Terraknight’s deep laughter boomed from ahead. “Hummingbird, you suck!”
“Eat me!” Hummingbird shouted back, his wings beating furiously as he banked between the trees. He tucked into a dive and slammed into Terraknight’s broad back with enough force to send them both careening into a massive sycamore trunk.
They tumbled to the base in a tangle of limbs and feathers, loose bark raining down on their heads.
Small woodland creatures bolted from their burrows and scattered into the underbrush.
“You moron,” Terraknight groaned. “That hurt!”
Quakelord rolled to his feet with cat-like grace and dug his fingers into the damp earth.
The rich scent of moss and petrichor spiked around him as his magic stirred to life.
Thick roots burst from the soil, followed by creeping vines that moved like living serpents.
They coiled around Terraknight and Hummingbird’s ankles, then climbed higher—calves, thighs—binding them tight against the very tree trunk they’d just crashed into.
Hummingbird tried to twist free, wings beating uselessly against the bark. “Oh, come on! This is just—” A root wrapped around his jaw and muffled the rest of the protest.
“What the—” Terraknight’s cursed, but a thick vine snaked around his head and clamped over his mouth like a gag. Every time he flexed his earth magic to shatter Quakelord’s bindings, fresh growth sprouted to replace what he’d destroyed.
“In love and war, everything is fair, ladies,” Quakelord said with a wink. “Every man for himself!” He threw back his head and howled like a wolf before sprinting uphill with dizzying speed.
Every man for himself, indeed. Time to even the odds.
I reached out with my Blood Manipulation and seized control of his racing pulse. Not enough to hurt him, just enough to make his legs wobble. He stumbled, caught himself, then stumbled again as I played with his circulation.
“What—Projector!” he whined over his shoulder.
But Selena and I were already on the move, the trees blurring past us as we left Quakelord behind.
Three weeks and a day had passed since they’d told us the truth about the Tenth Ward.
We were on a mission tonight, but my thoughts kept drifting to what came after.
I’d corner Radu the moment we returned and make him understand that staying here while waiting for the inevitable death of his friends was no longer an option.
I needed him to portal me back to the Republic.
I’d given my plan a lot of thought over these past weeks.
The old smuggler’s tunnel would get me inside.
The same passage Lev, Katerina, and I had crawled through as children, shrieking with laughter as we hunted for pirate gold and hidden chambers.
Back then, our greatest fear had been staining our silk dresses or missing afternoon blood service in the palace gardens.
Now I planned to use it for something far more dangerous than treasure hunting.
I was going to disturb a Creator in his Deep Sleep.
Not just enter Dracula’s Sleeping Chamber. That alone would earn me a death sentence. No, I intended to do something infinitely worse. I’d feed him my blood, grant him access to my memories, and potentially trigger his awakening decades before the ordained time.
Pray his sense of justice would compel him to act.
The Blood Communion was strictly forbidden to anyone below the Council of Elders.
Not impossible, any pureblood possessed the basic ability, but so heretical that even contemplating it was considered a sin.
The ritual was sacred, reserved for moments of absolute crisis when the First Originals’ intervention was the only salvation.
I’d say saving our race and the mixed-breeds qualified.
My Transmitter buzzed against the bone behind my ear, and I pressed a finger to accept the call. The Voices leaked through the connection with Harbinger, but since I wasn’t Harmonized with him, they sounded muffled.
“Harbinger to Black Guild,” Radu’s voice came through the static, sharp with urgency. “Confirm. Standard intercept formation. Wait for my signal.”
“Copy that, Harbinger,” I replied. “We’re in position.”
He, Pearl, and Ember had split from our group at the base of the mountain to scout the rocky pass where Souleaters were spotted moving in a slow procession. Their numbers posed little threat to our combined strength, but Radu never left anything to chance.
The others continued their race, unbound now, but still shoving and trash-talking despite Harbinger’s orders. Another aggressive tackle between Terraknight and Hummingbird toppled a tree, sending it crashing to the ground in an explosion of splintered wood and startled wildlife.
So much for stealth.
Could I blame them? They lived each day expecting it to be their last. If racing up a mountain and acting like fools brought them joy, who was I to judge?
Selena had a different opinion.
She pulled up beside me, muttered, “Damn boys,” under her breath, and darted ahead. A trail of jasmine perfumed the air in her wake, mingling with the earthy scents of moss and pine.
“After your first decade, you learn to ignore them,” Gale said, nudging me with her elbow. Her smile held a mix of humor and challenge that seemed to say, ‘You’ll see for yourself if you stick around long enough.’ Then she spread her velvety wings and launched herself into the darkness above.
I watched the silhouettes ahead—Terraknight and Hummingbird still wrestling their way up to the top, Quakelord darting between trees on silent footfalls.
For a moment, I wondered what it would feel like to join them.
To forget duty and death and just exist in the simple joy of an innocent competition.
But the tension of pre-battle crept up my spine, chasing away any thoughts of play.
We reached the craggy peak and spread out along the ridge.
Six sets of eyes focused on the monsters moving through the pass below.
My Blood Manipulation swept outward, cataloguing the advancing horde.
The count came back balanced. Equal numbers of each Souleater type, but not enough to warrant a full-scale attack.
I could see them clearly in my mind. Their auras pulsed with oily darkness, but I was getting better at telling them apart.
Nebulas shambled in the rear. Ignises hid in the front and the center.
Limuses prowled the flanks. And above, the Glacies hovered on massive black wings, the flapping sound covering the scraping of claws on stone.
“Where’s the Gloom?” Quakelord whispered, leaning over the edge for a better view.