Chapter 48
No More Games
“Hey, Kaelun?” I asked a few hours later, still unable to let the thought go. “When we get out of this, would… would it be okay if I meet Addy?”
“Really!?”
I stopped to face him, finding wide eyes staring back at me.
“Never mind,” I said, “it was a stupid idea.”
“Are you kidding me!? Addy would be thrilled to meet you. Actually, my whole family would!”
A strong blush painted my cheeks. “Are you sure?”
He came up to my side, and we continued walking together. “Oh, yeah,” he said, and for the first time since we’d been here, his jovial nature sprang to life. “They’d love it. Not to mention, your visit would have the city abuzz.”
I halted. “City?”
“Yeah, you know, teeming with daily life, massive building, museums, art galleries, the best restaurants in the realm.”
I shook my head, suddenly overwhelmed. “That exists?”
His brows pulled together. “Several, actually, but Solaran is the capital of the Summer Court, and by far the largest, with over a million souls living there.”
“A million?!” I coughed, nearly choking on the word.
Stars, I’d thought the hundreds living in, or around, Caius’ palace had been a lot.
Sure, Leighmullan had sported over fifteen thousand at one point, but by the time I was old enough to remember, we’d dwindled to less than a thousand, which made comprehending a place that housed a million unimaginable.
Kaelun eyed me. “All of that reading and you never once thought to look up our cities?”
Not enjoying the accusatory tone in his voice, I shot him a look. “I was a little busy, you know, trying to figure out how not to doom us all.”
He pulled on the back of his neck. “Sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“No.” I waved him off. “You’re right, I should have done cursory research at the very least.”
“May I ask,” he said almost sheepish, “what made you think about meeting Addy in the first place?”
I shrugged, suddenly hot under the cloudy afternoon sky.
“I don’t know. It’s just”—I shrugged again—"you all have lives. You know? Like, it’s your duty to watch over me, but at the end of it all, you have her, a family, a whole life outside of this.
All of you do. You have friends you call family.
You all love and laugh and have inside jokes.
You have parties. You have lives. But I…
" I trailed off, the truth too thick on my tongue.
“This is your life,” he finished for me.
I nodded.
After a brief pause, he said, “I’m ashamed to admit it, but even witnessing your memories, I never really considered that you’d be deprived of the things I take for granted. I’m sorry for that.”
“Thank yo—”
My gratitude was cut off as Kaelun snapped his head to the side. I drew my blades knowing first-hand what it looked like when something unwelcome brushed against his senses.
“Run!” Kaelun yelled, and he didn’t have to ask me twice as the sound of at least a dozen ravenous hounds filled the air.
I followed him, the long sleeves of my leathers taking the brunt of the branches whipping back at me in Kaelun’s wake. He shifted directions so many times that it was an effort to stay calm knowing we were slowly being surrounded.
Focusing on Kaelun, I barely registered the cushiony moss shift to hard rock. Before I knew it, the trees gave way to some sort of black slate with green-and-purple veins, their colors blending underfoot as loose chunks crushed together under our weight.
“Hello, little mouse.” Njal’s taunting words came ahead, and I skidded on the ground, my momentum carrying me across the unstable surface a few feet before I stopped.
“I must admit,” he said, crossing his arms. I took him in, and had terror not already gripped me, I would’ve appreciated the stunning backdrop of unobscured views courtesy of a sheer cliff at his back.
“I do enjoy the thrill of the hunt more than most—and oh, what a hunt it has been.”
Kaelun put a protective arm out and ushered me behind him.
“Yeah,” the autumn commander scoffed, “because that’s going to stop me.”
“Kaelun?”
His entire body coiled, and I knew then that we’d be forced to fight our way out.
“How many?” I said, shifting so that my back was against his like before.
“Ten on each flank, and almost two dozen from the north—not including Lothar, who’s with them.”
I could practically Njal’s delight as he waited for the others to surround us. Keeping my daggers sheathed, I touched their golden grips one by one and imbued them, ensuring I had every element in my arsenal.
I slid the pack off my back and Kaelun followed suit.
“Yeah,” Njal taunted, “because that will make the world of difference.”
“Says the coward waiting for backup,” I spat.
“Well, you see, it’s the only intelligent thing to do when you don’t play by the laws of nature, little mouse.”
Wait. What?
“Oh, you didn’t tell her.” The commander shot at Kaelun, then laughed with mirth at his silence. “Magic is supposed to come from your hands, dear mouse, not the ground.”
“The fire rings?” I said under my breath.
“Ding. Ding. Ding. Tell me, whelp, why didn’t you share with her just how impossible her little trick was?”
“Don’t answer him,” I said to Kaelun. “He’s just trying to get in our heads.”
“True. But what else are they keeping from you?”
“Shut up,” I gritted out, his words digging deeper than I cared to admit.
The click of Njal’s smarmy tongue set me over. “Lady Nyleeria,” Kaelun warned, sensing my magic pool at my ire.
I wasn’t interested in games.
Shifting, I faced Njal head on, Kaelun switching places with me, ensuring my back was covered. I ignored the verbal barbs the autumn fae flung our way as I studied the patterns in the slate, quickly noting that the green and violet marks threading through the midnight-black stone were fissures.
I traced them with my eyes, following one after another until I identified the seven that converged under his feet.
Then, I broke the laws of nature again.
Slamming my palm into the ground, I stared Njal down as I called upon the element of earth to do my bidding.
I hadn’t expected it to heed my command so fast, but the instant my hand smacked the surface, the ground beneath Njal crumbled and disappeared off the cliff side, forcing his sorry ass to valen away.
“Damn,” Kaelun breathed in awe, but I wasn’t done. Knowing he would just re-materialize any second, I released my daggers in an arching spray.
Understanding, Kaelun used his offensive unara and filled in the gaps with his own weapons which appeared out of thin air, their diversity as beautiful as their detailing—it was my turn to look at him in awe.
Thump. Thump.
One heartbeat.
Thump. Thump.
Two heartbeats.
Thump. Thump.
Three heartbeats.
My palms began to sweat, fearing our timing was off.
Thump. Thu—
Njal re-materialized to our right, almost outside of our array of flying daggers. Almost.
One. Then two. Then a third blade sunk into his leathers.
He bellowed in surprised fury, gaze snapping down to his chest. Unfortunately, none of them were lethal shots.
Two of the daggers were Kaelun’s. But the one in his abdomen, that one was mine…
and oh how the power begged for my command to be released.
Wait, I thought toward it.
The power buzzed in my ears.
Wait.
Gripping the hilts, commander pulled Kaelun’s out in quick successions, the bloody blades clanking against the hard slate as he discarded them.
Wait for it.
Then, Njal reached for my blade needing both hands to pull it out.
“Now!” I commanded once his fingers wrapped around the small hilt. Magic exploded in hundreds of tiny ice shards, bursting outward from the source with enough force to stain the air around him in red mist as they tore through his hands.
“Holy shit,” Kaelun swore as the autumn fae screamed in pain before actually valenning away.
The dagger returned to my bandolier, and I patted it with affection. “Good job, little buddy,” I said, as I re-imbued it.
“I’ve never been more in awe. Or disgusted,” he added with a grimace. “Gods have mercy on whoever is stupid enough to be on the other end of your ire, because that was… ruthless.”
He was right. It was. And there wasn’t a single cell in my body that felt guilty.
In fact, the primordial side of me purred in approval, like it had when Endymion had intentionally baited me to dispel—though I hadn’t known it was intentional at the time.
I was like a switch that had three settings.
On. Off. And neutral. On, was powerful. Mischievous.
Primal ruthlessness. And by the stars I was relieved this version of me showed up—that fear hadn’t flipped the switch, cutting me off from my source.
“Well,” I said as I turned my focus to the treeline, readying myself, “if you think for a second what’s coming for us is going to show mercy, then we’re as good as Wymond’s already.”
As if summoned from my words, Lothar stepped past the treeline like a god of the underworld, hands low by his sides, palms facing us, chest puffed, and that godsdamned smirk.
Tiny flecks of shale danced along the ground as the earth beneath us vibrated. The aspen forest at Lothar’s back visibly shook. Kaelun and I shared a nervous glance, hands at the ready.
Even though I’d known what was coming for us, nothing could’ve prepared me for the sound of trees cracking as they toppled to the ground, trampled like twigs.
Within seconds, dozens of the four-legged monstrosities broke ranks around Lothar as if he was a mountain and they were the raging river claiming this land as their own.
There was no time to hesitate, or worry what Kaelun would do. We had to trust each other implicitly. More importantly, we could not let ourselves be separated.
I scanned the beasts that were gaining ground at an alarming rate at Lothar’s command, my pulse doubling when I noticed a pattern.
Throwing my hands in a wide arc, a towering row of flames created a temporary blockade—because if there was one thing I’d learned from our last encounter, these fuckers hated fire.
“The ones with glowing red eyes,” I said in a rush to Kaelun, knowing every second counted. “They’re stronger, faster, and smarter than the rest. Fatal wound by decapitation only. Eyes only for the others. None of them like fire, but I don’t think it kills them.”
“Got it,” Kaelun yelled over the chaos as my fire hissed into submission—which made me acutely aware that when we’d faced the hellhounds before, they didn’t have magical help. As the smoke cleared Njal stood next to Lothar—seemingly healed.
“Damn it,” I breathed. I tucked away that information, shifting my focus to the imminent threat.
Like it had so many times before when I’d thrown, the world seemed to slow as I slid into a rhythm, releasing blade after blade after blade—wonderfully uninhibited by their endlessness.
After the first round, I only imbued them with flame, realizing that while any dagger to the eye felled them, fire was the quickest method; meaning the daggers came back to me faster.
With distance still on our side—though not for long—I targeted the ones with beady black eyes, and while the numbers weren’t in our favor, there was something to be said for never running out of ammo.
“I’m going to try something,” I said, forced to raise my voice over the wailing howls of the slain.
“I’ve got you!”
Hands empty, I tracked the half-dozen red-eyed hounds and focused in on the two that were fairly close to one another.
Swallowing, I searched for the right threads of power while keeping an eye in this realm.
My heart thumped with anticipation and hope and fear.
I’d never done this before, but I didn’t have time for those kinds of thoughts.
“Fuck it,” I said aloud, and flicked my hands up as I snapped the threads, hoping my timing was right.
Two perfectly formed, lethally sharp stalagmites shot up from the ground, each one of them stabbing a beast straight through their necks, momentum slicing down their sternum and into their guts, their limp bodies drooping around the obsidian spike.
Yelps rang out as other tried to dodge the new obstacles.
Adrenaline pumping, I glanced at Kaelun over my shoulder. “Can you do that too?”
“Can I make godsdamned earth spires?” he shot back incredulously. “No. No, I can’t. That’s not how this works.” He gestured back and forth between us, letting me know that by this he meant fae. “Though, damn it… let me try something.”
I threw up another wall of flames on our flanks, giving Kaelun the precious seconds to test his theory.
I released blades, felling the hounds around the one he was targeting.
Risking a glance, I saw his forehead scrunched in concentration.
A heartbeat later, he turned his wrist and a tiny pea-sized silver sphere shot out from his hand, skimming across the land in search of its target.
I watched with bated breath as it flew true.
Then, at the very last second, he flicked two fingers up, and without losing any momentum, the ball shot up, straight through the beast’s heart.
“Holy shit,” he said for the second time since this began. “Did I really just do that?”
“Yeah ya did!” I cheered, punching him in the shoulder. “Now, just to do that a few dozen times.”
He winced. “Is that all.”
“Gods willing,” I said and faced our left flank where the fire had been snuffed out again.
After that, everything was a blur of daggers, spires, and fire.
Kaelun and I were able to maintain a modicum of distance—never forced into melee—but the onslaught seemed endless.
My breaths were starting to labor, and the line kept sliding a little closer—we were losing ground.
“Kaelun,” I wheezed. “Why are there so many?”
“I don’t know,” he said through pants, and I realized he was just as tired as me. “Either I can’t sense them all; or they keep sending in more.”
Judging by our fatigue and the dimming light, we’d be at it for a while and I was starting to worry when we’d run out of magic.
“This isn’t working,” I said, throwing daggers and what felt like the hundredth firewall.
“Do you have a plan?”
“Other than waking up from this nightmare?” I quipped, grasping for ideas that were better than try and survive—and with that thought, the primordial power in me stretched long and loud like a feline finally intrigued enough to wake.
“What just happened?” Kaelun asked, voice uncertain.
“What just happened,” I said, “is that it’s bloody-well time to play offense.”