Chapter 13 #2
Dorcha sang as I unsheathed her, the dark metal humming to life. I pivoted, the edge of my blade catching the creature across the ribs in a burst of black ichor that splattered the earth.
It staggered and fell.
I spun, swinging Latha with my other hand. The twin blades gleamed—one dark as void, the other rippling with light—and when I crossed them, their hums resonated like the echo of thunder.
The next Obsidian lunged. I met it head-on, steel flashing as I slashed its throat and kicked it backward. Its scream came out wet and wrong, lifeless as it hit the ground.
Around me, chaos reigned.
Rydian’s shadows coiled through the trees, strangling creatures mid-charge.
Amanti moved like liquid lightning, wings flaring despite their damage, blades carving clean lines of silver through the dark.
Daegel’s sword work was heavy, methodical.
Twice, he beat back the enemy with a shield made from shadows.
Keres’s arrows sang past my ear, precise and merciless.
But the Obsidians kept coming—clawing from the soil itself, a tide of pale skin and inky eyes.
One leapt from the right, another from behind. I ducked beneath the first swipe, slashing upward, severing its arm. Spun. Latha buried itself in the second’s chest, light flaring as it burned straight through the creature’s ribcage.
Still more.
I could feel their life forces fading around me, three or four at a time. And something inside me, something quieter and more subtle than my furyfire, stirred.
A hunger.
Their life force could be mine if only I deigned to sip from it.
“Back-to-back!” Rydian’s voice cut through the din.
I fell into position without thinking, the heat of him at my spine grounding me even as the air burned with magic. His shadows met my flames, colliding and curling into each other. The creatures hesitated, wary now—but not for long.
One screamed and dove at us. I met it midair, blades crossing. Dorcha sliced through its jaw while Latha split the air with light, severing its head. The body crumpled, dissolving into a pool of oily vapor.
No life force left in that one.
Another darted low, fast as a snake. I jumped, landed hard on its shoulders, drove Dorcha down through its skull. My boots hit the dirt, ichor splattering my legs.
A claw caught my arm, tearing through leather and causing me to drop my blade. I hissed and turned, fire instinctively flaring at my fingertips. A ball of furyfire shot out, catching the Obsidian square in the chest. It shrieked, flesh burning straight through to bone.
But the fire didn’t stop there. It spread—too fast—licking up the trees, searing the grass.
“Get clear!” Rydian shouted, and the others scrambled back.
I jerked my hand, cutting off the flame before it could touch him. The sudden stillness left me shaking. The ground steamed where it had hit. I’d nearly—
No. Focus.
I plunged back into the fight. The air reeked of ash and blood and smoke. My arms screamed from the weight of my blades as I picked up the one I’d dropped, but I kept swinging—strike, parry, turn, stab. Dorcha drank their screams; Latha silenced them. Each kill came faster, more desperate.
A screech split the night. A larger Obsidian, twice the height of the others, barreled from the trees, claws like hooked scythes.
I charged, ducked beneath a swipe that shattered a boulder beside me, and rammed both blades through its gut.
It caught me in its massive fist before it died, flinging me backward.
Pain exploded as I hit the ground and rolled. My swords scattered—Latha near a tree, Dorcha in the dirt beside an Obsidian corpse. Three more loomed over in the darkness, lips peeled back in smiles too wide to be mortal.
I hesitated, not daring to unleash my furyfire again. Not after nearly burning the forest down around us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rydian—surrounded and fighting. Keres was nowhere to be seen. Amanti and Daegel were busy cutting through their own swath of monsters.
I lunged for my blades, rolled as one of the creatures’ claws struck where I’d been. I came up slashing, twin arcs of death. The first fell, head severed. The second, I impaled and shoved off the blade with a boot. The third grabbed me, claws raking across my ribs.
Pain ignited my furyfire. I let it rise this time, just enough. Flame roared from my skin, catching the creature’s arm. It screamed, tried to hold on, and burned for it. The fire consumed its face, its chest, until there was nothing but dust.
I gasped, pulling the fire back before it could spread, chest heaving. The night rang with silence—echoing and eerie. Then I realized: The other Obsidians had stopped.
Rydian stood, blood streaking his bruised cheek, his shadows still writhing. Daegel and Keres held the perimeter, Amanti at their flank. The remaining Obsidians circled, cautious now.
I raised my blades. “Come on, then,” I hissed. “Who’s next?”
They didn’t charge.
Instead, one tilted its head, its onyx eyes reflecting me in miniature. “The Chosen,” it rasped, voice like breaking glass. “The master will be pleased to find you at last.”
A growl rose from Rydian’s chest. “Come near her, and I’ll paint the ground with your rotten blood.”
The Obsidians hissed, then—as one—slid back into the shadows, dissolving into smoke and ash.
The forest fell quiet again. Too quiet.
I stayed in my stance, blades dripping black blood, my breath ragged. “Why are they—”
“Retreating?” Slade’s voice came from the trees, ragged.
He and Thorne stepped into the clearing a moment later, covered in black blood and gods knew what else. Thorne’s tunic was torn open, a bloodied slash running across his torso. But they were alive.
“They’re reporting back,” Slade finished grimly.
I sheathed Dorcha and Latha slowly, heart still hammering. “To Heliconia.”
Rydian’s expression was grim. “She knows where you are now. And she’ll send everything she has against you.”
The silence that followed was worse than the battle.
Daegel came forward, his hand landing on my shoulder. I winced at the wet coating I felt on his palm. “You all right?” he asked me quietly.
I nodded. “You?”
“Fine,” he assured me. “I’m going to check the horses.”
I watched as Keres approached Thorne and led him to her healing supplies. The others remained standing among the fallen Obsidians, all of us trying to process what had happened.
“We spotted them an hour ago,” Slade explained, “heading in the other direction. We thought we were clear, but their scout circled the flank and spotted your tracks. We tried to get back here, but they cut us off.”
“Killed two dozen more of those assholes in the woods just there,” Thorne added, pointing in the direction they’d come from.
Rydian cursed.
“How long you think we have?” Slade asked him. “Before they bring reinforcements.”
“Days. Maybe less.” Rydian’s gaze found mine across the ruined camp. “We need to move. Now.”
But he didn’t move to pack up. Instead, he crossed to me in three long strides. His hands framed my face, tilting it up to the moonlight. Those storm-colored eyes searched mine with an intensity that stole my breath.
“Are you hurt?” His voice was rough, almost broken.
“I’m fine.” The words nearly stuck in my throat.
“You’re bleeding.”
I blinked, looking down and noting the gash along my ribs where an Obsidian’s claw had apparently torn through a gap in my armor. “It’s a scratch.”
“Keres will patch you up.” His thumb brushed my cheekbone, and the tenderness in the gesture nearly undid me. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”
Wrong. We both knew that was wrong. If I’d used my furyfire to its fullest, those Obsidians wouldn’t have escaped. And doomed us all to whatever army Heliconia would send next.
But standing there with his hands on my face and his body close enough to feel his heartbeat against mine, all I could think was how badly I wanted to close the distance between us.
To press my mouth to his and forget everything else—the prophecy, the uncertainty, the impossible choices that lay ahead.
His gaze dropped to my lips. Heat flared in his eyes, dark and wanting.
I swayed forward, gravity and desire pulling me toward him.
“Hate to interrupt.” Slade’s voice shattered the tension like a bucket of ice water. “But we should probably leave before more of those assholes show up for round two.”
Rydian dropped his hand. The loss of contact felt like a physical wound.
“Right.” I stepped back and wrapped my arms around myself. “We should go.”
His jaw worked, but he nodded. “Pack up. We leave in five minutes.”