Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
My heart lurched into my throat at the gravelly screams of the men and women flying out of the ash-white cypher trees below.
Their skin was pale, streaked with purple scars across their faces and exposed arms. Their moss-colored leathers had camouflaged them among the trees, but I cursed myself regardless for not sensing the threat.
For not understanding the fleeing birds moments earlier.
The Engrossians were here.
My breathing hastened, deciding between fight or flight as their shouts grew louder.
More menacing. Fleeing would be safest, but the blood in my veins heated and my hands twitched toward my weapons as I looked at those self-inflicted scars marring their skin.
The sign of their loyalty to their clan—a sick tradition in my opinion, but one their power-hungry queen, Kakias, still enforced.
There were only half a dozen of them, all twice my size and intimidating, but only half a dozen.
A rogue group. One of the many that denied the treaty that ended the war two years ago, turning their backs on their queen.
As I heard the hatred in their cries and watched the light reflecting on their sharpened axes, I feared such revolution seeping into other tribes.
The air in my lungs turned to ash the longer I looked at them.
Their clan was to blame for everything that had gone wrong in my life.
These were the warriors who’d destroyed our homes and people.
These men and women tried to tear Mystiques apart, and would have stopped at nothing to wipe us from the planet and assume our position as protectors of the mountains.
A need for vengeance fed the hum in my blood as I bellowed, “Fight!” and sent Sapphire flying down the hill toward the rogues and their waiting weapons.
Tolek, in the front of the group already, led the charge, Astania galloping full out. He unsheathed the long sword from his side, his muscles contracting as he swung it above his head, speeding toward the first enemy.
My blood pounded through my body in encouragement. My genes wanted a fight. I laid flat against Sapphire’s neck, willing my energy into her legs to move faster, to catch up to Tolek and demand revenge for everything the Engrossians took from me.
The enemy in front raised a grisly-looking ax, a sickening smile displaying yellowing teeth as Tolek approached. He was still, the weapon poised to strike, eyes glinting like pools of death—dark and ominous, yet gleeful—as he anticipated my friend.
The motion of his ax launching from his hand was a flash in the wind. But Tolek was faster, swinging so far to the side on Astania that he had to wrap his long legs around her to stay on. He swiped out with his sword, slicing cleanly across the neck of the Engrossian.
The man fell to his knees, deep red blood bubbling through the wound in his throat and tainting the billowing grass. He hadn’t even enough time for his eyes to widen in shock. The sound of his gargled chokes followed me as I passed.
Fucking Angels, Tolek Vincienzo was impressive.
Cypherion sped up beside me, heading directly for an Engrossian whose eyes were trained on Jezebel’s back. My sister was facing down two enemies of her own, spear in-hand. Elektra shone beneath her, and together they were the image of legend, embodying a myth not yet written.
“Rina, stay back,” Cypherion warned, ripping his scythe from his back.
Rina. She was untrained. Vulnerable.
But my friend sped up, steady on Calista’s back, and snatched a knife from the strap around Cyph’s arm.
“I will protect myself,” she growled in return, directing her horse to the outskirts of the battle where the threat was minimal.
Her stare held a heat I recognized—revenge.
Rina had lost as much as we had. She may not be in the heart of the fight, but she would take down anyone who dared to touch her.
I smiled wickedly at my friend’s strength and rocketed into the fray, pulling Starfire from my hip. “It’s time for vengeance,” I purred to the blade. She glowed in the face of battle. The sun warmed us both as we sank into a predatory mode.
My eyes locked with the largest of the Engrossians. His frame should have been intimidating, but I was thirsty for blood. His black eyes met my magenta, then took in the gold of my hair, and recognition dawned.
“Alabath,” he hissed.
My eyes narrowed at the purple scars crisscrossing their way around his bald head, the pattern a unique map of his triumphs.
“You must be Victious.” My gut coiled, and I knew I was correct without his nod of confirmation. Victious, once the leader of the Engrossian armies who fell from grace upon refusing the treaty and now led small bands of warriors in attacks against Mystiques.
Victious, who my father had nearly lost his life to during the war.
“I believe I have a debt to repay,” I crooned, the sound almost seductive. Sapphire and Victious’s deep gray warhorse circled each other, huffing. I timed my breaths to the mare beneath me to steady myself, turning us into one being.
Victious smiled hungrily, his scars standing out starkly against his skin. I wondered which were for the Palerman attacks.
“Your father will love to receive his daughter’s head, I’m sure.” He glanced to Jezebel as she ran her spear through the heart of an Engrossian, a victorious scream bursting from her lips. “Maybe I’ll include hers, as well.”
At the threat to my sister, my anger snapped and I charged.
It was uncalculated. Sloppy. Unlike my usual techniques.
And exactly the reaction Victious wanted to draw from me.
His ax met Starfire in a whirl of sparks.
One. Two. Three times. I blocked each fatal strike of the Engrossian blade aiming for my neck, but even my honed skills were fading too quickly.
Even more severe than during the fight against Tolek.
For the first time since she was forged, Starfire was heavy in my hand.
She did not feel like an extension of myself, but an iron rod, my wrist sagging beneath her weight.
My wrist…the affliction spreading through me, contaminating my blood and weakening me…
I continued to counter his blows, but his power was greater than mine. He kept me on defense, rendering me unable to attack.
“An Alabath who’s not as good as rumors said?” He sounded hungry—for my blood.
But I was hungrier. Not only did I seek revenge, but that thing living inside me wanted fuel.
I snarled in response, then focused all of my energy on predicting his next move.
Cypherion, Santorina, and Jezebel fought the remaining three Engrossians, Rina doing all she could on the sideline, her knife bared. They dodged blow after blow, but it was so close. Too close.
“I’m going to kill them all,” Victious mocked.
“I’ll die before I let you touch them.”
Fear for my friends kept me atop Sapphire, fighting to raise my sword arm though every muscle from my forearm to my shoulder to my obliques screamed in protest.
It was heavy, everything was heavy. Each strike echoed down my arm, bones grinding against each other, and I bit down on a scream.
“And die you will,” my opponent purred.
I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to hold off his blows.
That sinking vulnerability returned as I realized I was going to lose the battle with Victious because of the Curse.
It was a cruel fate, as I could tell I was the stronger fighter, but fate it was—and I could feel its cool hands reaching for me now.
My friends needed to run. They had to get out of here the second that blade met my neck. Victious would show no remorse, and they could be nowhere near my poisoned blood.
The sickening stench of Victious’s sweat was overwhelming. His heavy panting and deranged growls drowned out all noise beyond our weapons clashing. I could tell he was closing in for the kill—gaining a position on me that I would be unable to fight my way out of.
My hand trembled as I met his blade, Starfire nearly falling from my grip.
His eyes darkened with victory, as a grotesque smile split the warrior’s lips.
The daughter of Alabath brought down by his mighty ax and sent to my father in pieces.
I recoiled at the thought but willed my body to keep fighting until my friends were safe, so only one family may lose someone to this band of rogues.
Once Victious had me, he would be distracted long enough for my friends and sister to escape as he carved out my torturous death.
If it was my last move, I would ensure they had that much.
I would leave them with their lives. They would be safe, and I could die knowing that my last sacrifice was to ensure that.
And they would carry on my mission. I had yet to request it of them, thinking I’d have at least a few more days of life, but I knew they would do everything they could in my honor. Truthfully, what were a few less days when I’d known death lurked around me?
It was with those thoughts that I met Victious’s crazed stare and was not afraid. Remembering the lives I was hopefully saving, I let the arm holding Starfire fall to my side, muscles screaming in relief. Victious’s eyes glinted, the vengeance he sought against my father in his grasp.
I closed my eyes and exhaled for the last time.
“No!” A scream echoed, bouncing off the trees and hills around us.
My eyes shot open, my body going rigid when the ax didn’t meet my skin. I looked for the source of the shout, though I already knew in my bones who it was.
He had been watching. He guessed my intentions.
His scream caused Victious to hesitate for the slightest of moments, and it was all Tolek needed. I watched in horror as he pushed himself to his feet atop Astania’s back and launched himself before me, in line with Victious’s sharpened blade.