17. Escape
The ricochet of the heavy rod vibrated through his bones as he swiped and shoved his way up the stairs, which curved to the right, giving the others every advantage, as Killian swung the bone with his left hand. Countless racoons, badgers, and bobcats, most rising only as high as his knees, screeched and scrambled over others to run back up the stairs. Killian lit the banner on a torch, and one animal’s shirt ignited as it raced past, catching several others aflame. Smoke and screeching echoed cacophonously, bringing several creatures to the ground as they covered their ears and noses from the assault.
Killian pressed forward, pausing when he heard harsh breathing above him. A strange creature glared, its eyes glittering red like rubies against the flickering flames, and it held a short sword in its elongated arms. It hissed, and a hundred thin teeth glinted. He had only seen pictures of this creature before—in the children’s book. The poem and stories were true.
A goblin.
Fear threatened to paralyze him, but Killian shot forward. His mind whirled with the implications. First, magic was real, the ancients were real, and now goblins. Everything he’d discounted as children’s tales had stood before him in mockery of his ignorance. Killian would be ignorant no longer.
The goblin rushed down the stairs, jumping onto Killian’s shoulder, trying to unbalance him as it lunged with its sword. Killian spun and kicked the monster down the steps, landing on a few cursed animals who had struggled back to their feet and were returning to the fight. Meshougi had picked up a bone of her own and bopped the goblin on its head.
The prophecies, the histories—they were all true.
As Killian looked down at the unconscious goblin, he reached down and exchanged his bone for the creature’s sword. He considered the animals around him and moved to end them. A wrinkled hand stayed his arm. “Only the goblins you must kill. Perhaps we can save some of the others from Zalina’s curses before this is over.”
Relief flooded through him, and he nodded.
A growl triggered another onslaught of creatures from above.
Ripping down another tapestry, he threw the attached rod like a spear and covered several with the flapping fabric. Using their distraction, he surged forward and knocked back several other creatures. Meshougi followed behind him, bopping a few more monsters on the head. She was singing. He swore it sounded like L’Turetian.
The fighting seemed endless, and Killian’s arms fatigued. But he had just spent months—even if those months were a dream—doing painful, useless, endless tasks. Before, he was certain he would have quit as the fight seemed hopeless. But thanks to Zalina, he was now mentally trained for this. The thought buoyed him, and he laughed at the irony.
Killian was relentless.
The coyote he was fighting stumbled at his cackle and tripped up the stairs. Killian hit him with the back of the sword on his temple, sending him to sleep.
At the top of the steps, a fox stood. He was similar to the one in his dreams who brought him to push the wheel. A gem glowed in his chest plate, and he wielded a battle ax, which he heaved toward Killian. The prince ducked in the nick of time and lunged his shoulder forward into the creature’s stomach. They both landed heavily on the stone. The monster kicked at him. Killian rolled and grabbed a small table, heaving it toward the fox. It exploded into shards of splinters that littered the floor. Eyes glinting red, and moving faster than Killian could react, the fox grasped Killian’s collar and hauled him to the edge of the parapet. Killian’s back slammed into the stone, before the fox’s inhuman strength heaved him over the edge.
His legs wheeled in open air as he clung to the fuzzy arms of the fox. The fox’s claws ripped through his clothing. They were atop the castle battlement, on the steep cliffside of a rocky mountain face. Snow covered every surface, and an arctic wind ripped through his clothes. The cliff was dizzying in its height, and fear seized him even as he maintained his grip on the creature. This was the end. The fox held him over the precipice, and all the encouragement Meshougi had offered would be for naught. There was no coming back from this fall.
Get back up.
The monster’s eyes flared red again, pulsing brightly as the red gem on his chest gleamed. In a moment of impulse, Killian released a hand. He grabbed the dagger from the sheath at the creature’s side, flipping it out of the fox’s hold. He barely caught it as it whirled in the air, the blade nicking his palm. But he twisted and thrust it into the gem in the fox’s chest plate.
The monster screamed and stumbled backward, dropping Killian as he tripped on his own feet. As Killian fell, he stabbed the dagger between the stones. The weight of his body slammed against the outer wall of the castle, but the dagger held. He pulled himself up, his head barely able to rise over the battlement edge. The fox lay on his back writhing as red smoke poured out from the gem. Shadowy goblin-like forms with gaping eyes and silently screaming colossal mouths appeared like ghosts, then disappeared into dust.
Killian slipped down the wall as his knife shifted. Sweat slicked his palm, and his grip faltered. His toes couldn’t find purchase on the stone.
Get up.
It was too hard. His muscles quaked and shuddered.
Get up.
His fingers loosened, and he hung on by his fingertips. His life depending on a single pad and a tiny dagger.
Get up!
He roared as he whipped his hand up and grasped the edge of the stone tightly. Slowly, painfully, he pulled his body upward. His fingers bent, their tips slipping into the cracks between stones. Killian groaned as he pulled his body higher and harder. He let go of the knife in a moment of desperation and leapt upward, scrambling until—finally—he caught a handhold. Using the strength he didn’t know he still had, he heaved himself on top of the parapet and rolled over it, landing hard on the stone floor.
He”d done it.
Sweaty, he panted and grinned as he lay on his back staring at the cloudy sky. The familiar putrid smell accosted him first, and then a wrinkly face popped into view directly above him and upside down.
Meshougi smiled at him and patted his cheeks. “Well done.”
His chest flooded with warmth at her words, as a clatter of footsteps and shouting drew his attention. He rose to his feet, ready for the next onslaught, but the commotion was growing louder on the other side of the battlement. Before him, the large fox spasmed and awoke. Its eyes had turned to gray.
Meshougi bent at the waist, her fingertips peaked and pressed against her forehead. She bowed just like Raela had to Jax. She murmured, “Ancient fox, welcome back.”
The fox strained to rise from the ground and blinked. His gaze took in the group before him. How long have I been cursed? he asked before stretching first backward then forward on the stones. Too long. Too long. He growled. I will destroy her and save the rest of my kin.
The fox bowed his head, then turned to face the other woodland animals. Killian noticed bracers, necklaces, bracelets, and belts on every one of them, each with a glowing stone. Each stone bore the same manipulative, possessive curse.
A goblin leapt at his left, and Killian dodged just in time. He sliced at it with his sword, but a purple light glowed, and the wound healed instantly. Meshougi battered its bracelet on its wrist and shattered the stone. The goblin blinked, then disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
“Some evil stays evil,” she said with a shrug. “The goblins were cast with blood magic and made with pain and suffering. Not even that can be redeemed in the end. Hit the stones.”
He nodded, uncomfortable with the presence of evil. He must irradicate it from his land. And as he regarded the animals and ancients, whose eyes pulsed with the same light from the gem, his heart billowed with determination. “We must save the rest.” They were his responsibility now.
The other side of the central scout tower rang out in a surge of clashing sword strikes. Killian and Meshougi ran around the corner and joined the chaos. Most of the creatures faced away, toward a large gate. The fox rushed past and bit down, crushing every glowing gem he could see on the nearby creatures. Several crossbows fired randomly as the goblin holding each one poofed into smoke. Some animals fell back on all fours, shaking their great furry heads. Many of those fighting were not ancient, and ran off, underfoot, to escape.
Killian dove into the fray, piercing the stones and freeing the violent creatures around him, dispatching the goblins that turned his way. Finally, he reached the center of the mayhem where a man and a growling wolf fought side by side, guarding each other’s flanks.
“Phineas!” Killian cried. “Jax!” He rushed to Phineas’s back and patted his shoulder as he moved to stand behind him. “Don’t kill the animals. Crush the gems to free them. They’re possessed by dark magic.”
Jax grimaced. That would explain the blank gazes, the ancients betraying their duty to protect, and their fearlessness.
“Glad you’re not dead,” Phineas called back.
“Me too.” Killian chuckled. “How did you find me?”
“A couple of crazy ladies in the woods,” Phineas yelled as he ducked an arrow. “Let’s get out of here.”
As Killian nodded, the creatures converged on the four of them, and the fight continued.