CHAPTER SEVENTEEN #3
More howls went up, closer this time. Pushing down the panic before it could take hold of my thoughts, I threw myself into that mental space where only bloodthirst, determination, and battle-readiness could be found.
Sable unsheathed her sword while Reeve shifted into his lion form.
Lear looked at me, flickers of energy dancing along her palms. “If I die after getting this far into Xalbia, I am gonna come back and haunt the Sovereigns.”
Flicking off the drizzle sliding down my temple, I snickered. “Can’t say I’d blame you.”
The breeze hit again, sliding over my wet skin, causing a chill to ride my spine. I heard water splashing as dogs barked and growled.
They were here.
Dread threatened to pierce my mental state, but I boxed it away fast and tightened my grip on my scythe. The long wooden handle felt almost comforting in its familiarity. With my other hand, I conjured an orb of ash, glad I’d practiced.
Anticipation a burn in my muscles, I remained still as I waited for our enemies to appear. They had the disadvantage of being able to see very little through the fog. I didn’t. And I fully intended to use that against them.
The hounds rocketed out of the gray haze—teeth bared, pointed ears pinned back, tails high. They bulleted toward us, smashing through thick brambles, their paws thundering along the ground.
Some jerked back as arrows forcefully slammed into their bodies. Others stumbled under the numbing pain of freezing cold orbs. Some crashed to the ground as concentrated energy blasts barreled into them.
The rest headed right for us.
A blast of energy from Lear sent two sailing backwards.
Another charged at me like it had a score to settle.
I threw the orb of ashes, watching as it smacked the dog’s face—blinding and burning it.
I brought the scythe down hard, slamming it into the dog’s neck and chopping off its head.
I didn’t have time to feel anything, because more were almost on me.
The battle officially began as swiftly as it did furiously. I couldn’t see much of what was happening beyond this little area here, but I could hear it. The noise was as deafening as it was intense—a discordant blend of bestial sounds, pained cries, and crackles of power.
When I wasn’t launching orbs of ashes, I was using the rotated blade to deliver one devastating blow after another; always trying to dodge the spikes on the canines’ marbled black/gray fur.
Creatures of the Pines soon leaped into the fray.
Hairless, leather-skinned vultures dived down, their razor-sharp talons extended.
Silver leopards covered in long quills pounced, raking and biting.
Black rhinos sporting ivory horns all along their spines charged enemies so hard they knocked them clean off their feet.
The hounds were as ferally brutal as usual, a flurry of teeth and claws and tails. But I stabbed and hacked and carved and slashed, offering not one bit of mercy. The dogs yelped with every orb of ashes that hit them—orbs that scalded, singed, burned, and charred.
Around me, officiates and candidates fought just as hard.
Delphiae alternated between attacking with swords and lashing out with energy blasts.
In their animal forms, Lykaons and Nemeans pitilessly tore out throats, sliced open bellies, and ripped chunks of skin from bodies.
Phoenixians attacked from the sky—shooting arrows and orbs, snatching up and tossing away dogs, or diving down enough to lop off heads before sailing back up.
It was chaos at its finest and deadliest. Carnage reigned. Flesh burned. Bones broke. Screams rang out.
Battling a particular hound, I hissed as I pricked my hand on its spiked fur.
The little shit emitted a satisfied snarl, whipping its prehensive tail back and forth.
It flinched as two balls of ice-cold orbs rained down on it from above.
Taking advantage of its distraction, I buried my scythe in its head.
Almost instantly, another was coming my way. An arrow narrowly missed its head, sinking harmlessly into a tree, but two Lykaons quickly wrestled the dog to the ground.
Not all arrows and strikes of power aimed from above met their mark—how could they, when officiates couldn’t see all too well courtesy of the fog? They were shooting blindly. But if nothing else, they slowed the dogs down by forcing them to weave and duck and jerk backward.
The hounds wouldn’t admit defeat, though. They kept on charging, kept on leaping, kept on lashing out with their claws.
I heard the telling snaps of Talon’s power and knew he was nearing us. I was—
Three hounds appeared out of the smoke. An energy blast shimmered through the air like waves of heat, knocking two down. The third pounced at me, its claws extended, its canine eyes lit with a mindless bloodthirst.
I sidestepped it fast and whirled as—unable to pause its momentum—the creature sailed past me, skidding to a halt. I swung the scythe, bringing it down hard on the hound’s back; cleaving it in half in one smooth move.
My head whipped to the side as a loud male cry snatched my attention. It was Glory’s boyfriend, Harbin. A hound had him by the leg and was dragging him along the ground.
I advanced on it fast. “Hey!” I lashed out with my scythe. But, releasing Harbin, it dodged my blow and then pulling back its lip to reveal teeth dripping with blood-stained saliva.
I angled my blade just right, watching the way its muscles bunched as it prepared to lunge. “Come on, fucker.”
It might have lunged. Might not have. I’d never know, because Khalida swooped down and grabbed it by it hindlegs. She lifted it off its feet and unceremoniously tossed it away.
“Shit, do you hear that?” Lear yelled.
If she meant the pounding of hooves, yes. The centaurs were fast approaching. “They must have found one of the nearest bridges.”
Taking a quick scan of what I could see of my surroundings, I noticed several broken and bloody bodies sprawled on the ground.
More snaps of Talon’s power split the air, closer now. Still, I couldn’t see him. And I didn’t try to search for him either. I trained my gaze on the fog up ahead of me, knowing the centaurs would appear any moment now.
As the clang of swords joined the furious noise within the haze, I adjusted my grip on the handle of the scythe, impatience battering my control.
They galloped into view, bellowing out war shouts. They were an unnerving sight for certain, possessing the lower body of a horse and the upper body of a man. All were armed with either a sword, spear, or bow and arrows.
One centaur bore down on me, his blade raised high. I ducked to evade his blow and swiped out with my scythe, carving right through his forelegs. He toppled to the ground, his back legs kicking. I brought the scythe down hard again, beheading him in one clean move.
Another soon came at me. And another. And another. I went at them hard, alternating between lobbing orbs of ashes and striking out with my scythe.
Within the fog was a shower of arrows, gold streams of pure, whirling orbs of air, blasts of fire, and the shimmer of lilac Delphiae energy.
The centaurs fought hard and tirelessly—and not just with those on the ground. No, they also stabbed upwards with their swords, aiming for the vultures and flying Phoenixians.
More, the bastards kept rearing up onto their hindlegs and kicking out with their hooves. One hoof landed hard on my thigh. Another slammed my left shoulder. A third clipped my head, grazing my temple. It hurt every damn time.
I almost tripped on a stray centaur-foreleg as I stabbed out with my blade. The little wobble cost me; I didn’t manage to properly parry the centaur’s blow. His sword slashed my chest, tearing cloth and slicing skin. The burn of the injuries only spurred me on.
He raised his sword, a battle cry on his lips. I evaded his blow, angled my blade just right, and sliced open his belly.
A Phoenixian right then landed nearby, her wing crumpled.
A centaur went straight for her. I would have advanced on him, but a rhino rammed into his side, knocking the centaur down …
which was when I caught sight of Talon far behind him wading through enemies, stabbing and cleaving with the ease, speed, and skill of someone who’d seen many battles.
Relief took wing in my stomach as I saw he was fine. I hadn’t let myself acknowledge that I was worrying for his safety but, yeah, there was no stopping or changing it.
“No!”
The female shriek made me snap my head to the side. Glory. She was sprinting toward a centaur who was about to thrust a spear into Harbin.
Sensing her approach, the centaur kicked up his back legs and slammed them right into her stomach. She flew backwards and hit a tree hard. A second centaur was immediately on her, piercing a spear right through her head.
I froze, my lips parting in shock as I stared at her open-eyed corpse. Fuck. Bile rose to burn the back of my throat, and my belly twisted and rolled.
Fury bubbling in my blood, I stared at him, a snarl shaping my mouth. I quickly snatched a fallen centaur sword and hurled it through the air toward him.
It sank into his shoulder, wringing a loud cry from him. A primal satisfaction plucked at my mouth and sang in my veins.
His gaze slammed on me as he yanked out the blade. Then he came right for me, galloping fast. But his pace faltered as an arrow speared through his eye—one I quickly realized was fired by Harbin.
I didn’t get the chance to thank him, or comfort him, or even watch the dying centaur hit the ground.
My focus flew to the one barreling toward me, his spear raised.
I swung my blade, chopping into the spear, splitting it in two.
The bastard apparently also carried a sword—he swiped out just right, and the blade sliced into my cheek.
A hiss slid through my clenched teeth. And then we were battling.
He was good. Fast. Even managed to stab his broken spear into my upper arm.
Snatching in a breath at the hot lance of pain, I went to slice at his forelegs again.
But a leopard abruptly landed on his back, stabbing its claws deep and sinking its teeth into his nape.
Silently thanking the feline, I turned my attention to the next enemy. One after another came my way. I swung the scythe over and over—blocking, parrying, slicing flesh, cutting through bones.
An arrow grazed my uninjured cheek as it whizzed past me. Narrowing my eyes at the archer, I lifted my scythe, ready to—
A golden whip of hissing power struck him with a lethal lash that reduced him to ashes.
I blinked as Talon appeared before me, carrying a large two-handed sword. His brow creased as he got a good look at me. Unsurprising. My clothes were wet with bloodred water.
Grunting, he turned to the nearest centaur and struck out.
I did the same, jerking back when a vulture swooped down and raked its talons over my combatant’s face.
He struck out blindly with his sword, causing the avian to fly off.
A rippling energy blast then caught him front-on.
He zoomed backward, accidentally crashing into a charging centaur and taking him to the ground.
On and on we fought. Our enemies’ numbers continuously dropped, and it soon became obvious that they were fighting a losing battle. But the centaurs didn’t retreat. Nor did the hounds, though some had fled during the last battle. I didn’t know why this was different.
My heel crashed into something while I was mid-battle.
I toppled backwards and landed hard on my ass.
The centaur in front of me reared up, his forelegs kicking.
I rolled fast, dodging the hooves that slammed down right where I’d landed.
I twisted sharply, slamming my scythe into his flank.
Right then, Ajax materialized and forcefully slammed a studded mace into his head and smashing his skull to pulp.
Talon was before me in a flash, snatching my wrist and yanking me to my feet. I almost swayed, little spots obscuring my vision. I then became aware that the noise of battle had dimmed, and the amount of invaders charging into the forest were now low.
Phoenixians were still in the sky, but not all were heaving enemies off the ground … as if there weren’t many left to nab.
Still alert, I studied my surroundings with a cautious eye. Only two enemies were standing that I could see, and both were taken out by Ajax and a Nemean.
Corpses strewed the ground. Sadly, some were officiates.
Others happened to be beasts of Deimos. But most were either dead-or-dying enemies.
Centaurs lay on their sides, the rise and fall of their chests uneven.
Perishing hounds were pointlessly attempting to crawl away while others were sprawled still on the grass, accepting their fate.
Hearing heavy panting behind me, I glanced back to see Reeve’s friend, Finian.
“I think it’s over,” he said, though it came out sounding more like a question.
“So do I.” Even so, I remained on high alert just in case. But no others came. My chest expanded with a full breath as relief juddered down my spine.
Delphiae went around healing any who were dealt lethal wounds. I wasn’t concerned about my own injuries. None were fatal.
Taking a better look at Finian, I frowned. “You look deathly pale.”
His throat bobbing, he rubbed at his stomach. “I feel sick.”
That was no shock, considering … “You have centaur guts all over you.”
“I have centaur guts all over me,” he agreed with a nod.
“You going to hurl?”
“I’m going to hurl.” He spun around, hung his head, and promptly vomited.