Chapter 55
“Can you fix it?” Halsten shouted over the eruption of battle cries that carried across the shore. He shoved a finfolk back, guarding Linnea as she observed Dyri’s injuries.
Halsten hadn’t seen the pup get injured, but he knew it was a driving point for Asta now. The second Dyri had cried out in pain, the blonde princess had cut clean through two finfolk at once, stepping through their spliced bodies as they fell and targeting her next victim.
“He’s bleeding so much. I don’t know what to do!” Linnea had tears streaming down her face as she tried to staunch the bleeding with a wad of cloth ripped from Halsten’s shirt. “He saved me! I need to save him!”
A hissing siren swiped at Halsten’s chest, leaving claw marks in his shirt but luckily not making contact with skin.
His movements were incredibly slow due to his leg injury, so he focused on holding his ground.
The Ryktarvan warriors were multiplying at a concerning rate, more of them slithering up from the shoreline every minute.
Halsten did his best to keep them away from Linnea while she worked on Dyri, but it was not easy. His leg throbbed, hardly able to withhold weight. Even with Asta, Revna, and King Botmar joining the fight, and Gyrial being freed from his iron, the odds were not in their favor.
A gray mass stepped next to Halsten and held the line. Thurs, the alpha of the northern kelpies, had come to help him.
The mare kicked and bit the approaching opponents, her teeth terrifyingly sharp and definitely not horselike.
She frequently checked behind her and Halsten was positive she was checking on Dyri’s condition.
After all the times the dog had attempted to befriend the kelpie, something must have made an impact on her.
Halsten and Thurs worked in tandem to guard Linnea and Dyri, the mare’s help being the advantage they needed.
If anyone had told Halsten two months ago that he would be fighting merfolk next to a gigantic flesh-shredding horse someday, he would have asked them what was in their glass—and if he could have some.
He also never thought that Niklas would be a “below the belt” fighter—both literally and figuratively.
The man had no problem kicking the beings between their legs, pulling hair, or throwing sand in their eyes.
Halsten supposed he had likely never been in a fight before.
Even worse, he had likely never been trained in combat even once.
So the fact that Niklas was holding his own against individuals with preternatural speed and strength was really quite impressive.
“Incoming!” Asta bellowed, pointing toward the shoreline.
Another hoard of Ryktarvans were crawling out of the waves, hissing and snapping at the air. The sea witch must have sent her most deranged soldiers to take care of them, and likely to also lure Asta away from the bigger fight.
Halsten knew that the sooner they were safe, the sooner Asta could return to Naltania and protect his best friend. He knew that the Salendronean princess would do anything to keep Kaid safe—something she had proved time and time again.
The onslaught of extra soldiers was their downfall. The line they had made to guard the castle, as well as Linnea and Dyri, was being pushed further and further back.
“We can’t hold them off forever!” Gyrial yelled down the line.
Halsten knew he needed to ensure Linnea’s safety, but he also knew that she would not leave Dyri.
As if reading his mind, Thurs broke from the line at the same time Halsten did, sprinting back for the pair they were protecting.
Halsten apologized to Dyri, only taking a moment to observe the mangled limb dangling from the canine, before hoisting him up over his shoulder and laying him on Thurs’s back.
It was a testament to the pup’s demeanor that even in such pain, he never once lashed out or tried to bite.
Halsten yanked Linnea to his chest by her wrist, planting a powerful kiss on her lips, then lifted her up onto Thurs behind Dyri.
The mare took off toward the castle and Halsten knew that it could very well be the last time he saw Linnea.
Even though his leg was going numb, he turned and dove back into the fight.
King Botmar’s iron sword left sizzling corpses in its wake and Halsten wished they had more than one iron blade. They needed something—anything—to give them an advantage.
An outbreak of shrieks and hisses sounded from the forest before a swarm of people appeared, running through the underbrush toward the beach.
Was it just Halsten, or were the people all very short?
No, they were not short people. They were children. At least twenty of them.
The deafening screeches were not human sounds, and Halsten panicked. How was he supposed to justify fighting children, even if they were dangerous ocean dwellers?
This was how he would die. Halsten couldn’t fight children. Kaid, maybe, if he were here. Kaid punched first then asked questions later. Halsten, though? Halsten at least put some thought into what he punched before he did it. And he would not be punching youth.
He braced himself as the children approached and closed his eyes, flinching when he felt them brushing past him. When he opened his eyes, he realized they had run around him and were fighting beside Asta. Fighting against the Ryktarvans.
They were vicious little things, using their razor sharp teeth to latch onto the warriors. It took two-to-three of them to take down one warrior, but the extra hands were helpful.
As thankful as Halsten was for the children, a shiver ran down his spine as he watched them. There was something very terrifying about watching murderous children. Halsten may have developed a new fear of youth in general now.
Either way, the new arrivals were not enough, and Halsten and his friends were fighting a losing battle.