Chapter Fifty-Five
Skylar Cathal
“You breathe a gods-damned word of this to Talon or Rhea, and I swear I will—”
“I know!” I said, gripping Shaw’s coarse fur, urging him to run faster. “Hurry up, we’re almost there.”
Shaw’s powerful legs thundered beneath him, carrying us across the wilted earth toward the tower where Daxton and Adohan were trying to fix the wards.
Up ahead, I could see the mist encroaching on the tower.
The remnants of dark magic were far too close, threatening to swallow the tower and everyone else with it.
If Dax and Adohan didn’t repair the ward, Crimson City would fall.
“Shift your weight!” Shaw shouted inside my head. “And don’t fall. It’s embarrassing enough that I’m carrying you into battle like this.”
Shaw was right as usual, although I didn’t dare admit it to his face. He was not a pony.
Riding on his back felt like tumbling down a cliffside while trying to remain balanced. He was remarkably fast and powerful, but riding along his shoulders and clinging to his neck for dear life was not the most enjoyable experience.
“You’re the one that said I was too slow on my two legs.”
“And I still stand by what I said.”
Shaw took another sharp turn and leaped over a stack of boulders leading to the rolling hillside. The blackened earth and dried trees cracked under the force of his bounding paws as Shaw pushed forward.
“Warriors are fighting at the base, and I can see two figures climbing outside the structure up ahead.”
“Dax and Adohan must be ascending to the relic at the top to reactivate the ward’s magic—good. Let’s help buy them some time.”
“With pleasure.”
Shaw surged forward, closing the distance, his roar causing even the garmr to flinch. He skidded to a stop, allowing me to slide from his back to join in the fight.
“Champion, here!” a dark-skinned warrior said as he tossed me a quiver of fresh arrows to draw from.
I was capable with a sword, but deadly with my bow.
I nodded a quick thanks as I readied an arrow, searching for a new target.
My silver bow felt weightless in my hands as I took a deep breath to steady my arm.
The fletching of the feathers gently caressed my cheek before I released the string and sent my arrow flying.
Thud, one harpy down. Then two, and then three. Yet the massive horde looming against the horizon was still circling nearby, almost as if they were waiting for something.
Shaw released a deafening roar as he rounded on a pack of four garmr, attempting to guard the base of the stairs Daxton and Adohan were climbing.
“Shaw?” I reached out to my friend and listened for his answer. “Shaw!” I screamed.
“I’m fine.”
“Why am I having a hard time believing you?” I grabbed the quiver, attached it to my side, and ran for the stairs outside the sandstone tower. “Give me a way through, then. I’ll have a vantage point from the steps to cover you.”
Shaw swiped at the garmr, forcing them to step back and create a small opening for me to leap onto the steps.
From there, I could keep the wall to my back and help cover the others from above.
I drew on my bow, arrow after arrow soaring across the battlefield.
Crimson entrails stained the scorched earth.
My nose wrinkled at the aroma from the High Fae and wilted creatures alike.
There was so much death… And why?
Why were these creatures here? Why did the ward fall? Why was all this happening now?
A chill crept up my spine as I turned to see black mist gathering fifty yards from the tower’s base.
As the seconds turned into minutes during the fighting, the enemy silently grew right in front of our eyes.
I cursed myself for being foolish enough not to recognize this sooner.
The fear-gripping feeling of death loomed around us as the mists began to encircle the tower.
Fuck, this was a trap.
And we were caught in the dead center.
“Daxton!” I called with my mind.
Reaching along the fragments of our bond, I searched for him. Desperately trying to relay the pangs of dread that kept words from escaping my lips. The whisper of his presence in response sent my heart soaring, hope fueling me from within as my animal began to sing in response to him.
I wasn’t afraid to die.
But I was terrified of the others dying before their time was done. Before we could eradicate the wilt and set Valdor free.
Daxton’s exhaustion carried through our bond as if it were my own. His magic was wavering, and I knew they needed my help. Strapping my bow across my back, I flew up the steps, taking two at a time, desperate to reach the top.
“Dax!” I yelled as my eyes met his from across a pedestal.
Adohan gave me a firm nod as his brows narrowed in concentration, his hands shaking atop the stone relic.
“You made it,” Daxton said with a broken voice, shoulders trembling.
“Right on time, it seems,” I answered, running to his side, placing a hand on each of their forearms.
“This ward shouldn’t have been this weak,” Adohan said as he and Daxton wrapped their hands around a small stone carved into the shape of a flame. “Minaeve should’ve—”
“Minaeve should’ve done a lot of things,” I growled, allowing my magic to gather in my center. “Including dropping dead. But that hasn’t happened just yet, so she can just fuck off. We can handle this ourselves.”
“I second that,” Daxton rasped.
“Agreed,” Adohan said, bearing down and preparing himself for one last effort.
I didn’t know the limits of this ward, but I knew it required the majority of their magic, which the queen herself most recently siphoned away. Just add it to the gods-damned list of reasons why killing her wouldn’t be revenge enough.
Concentrating, I willed my power to flow through my touch, healing Adohan and Daxton’s depleted reserves and attempting to fill them with my own.
My status as alpha granted me a stronger burst of power I didn’t have access to before, thank the Gods.
I could feel Shaw’s presence knocking at my mental door, but I pushed it aside, focusing on giving Dax and Adohan all I could.
The seconds ticked slowly: five, seven, ten, fifteen… It only took fifteen seconds for my knees to buckle, and I collapsed to the floor.
“That’s enough, Skylar,” Daxton roared. “Adohan, now!”
I cursed my inability to keep my feet underneath me, hating that I couldn’t give them more. Daxton and Adohan bared their teeth and clenched every muscle in their bodies as they made one final push with their magic.
The blue hue of the stone flame sprang to life, the magic thundering like a wave crashing against the sands.
“Skylar.” Daxton knelt beside me, cupping my face and inspecting me for other injuries.
“I’m good, Dax.”
“That’s yet to be determined,” he answered. “But for now, I’d agree.”
“Did it work?”
“Yes,” Adohan said, panting as he backed toward the steps, gazing into the skies above. “It’s working! The flock of harpies is returning toward the mountains, and the garmr also appear to be retreating.”
“What about the mist?” I dared to ask, silence filling the space, followed by a prickling grasp of dread pooling in my gut. “Adohan?”
“No.” The Crimson City prince’s voice was barely audible. He swallowed a heavy breath as he staggered back from the open ledge. The whites of his eyes were wide with fear as he tilted his gaze upward to where Idris and Astro were soaring overhead. “Daxton, they’re here. There’s, there’s—”
“I sense them.” Daxton’s grip tightened on my arm as he moved me to his side. “Gods.”
The cold whisper of death brushed against me, fear becoming a physical entity that wrapped around my spine, squeezing it like a vice. The stench of sulfur mingled with a chilling emptiness could only come from one thing.
Nalusa falaya—the fallen.
And judging by Daxton and Adohan’s grim expressions, there were far too many for us to fight.
Pushing past the fatigue in my legs, I forced myself to stand at Daxton’s side, my jaw dropping to the floor at what my eyes beheld.
Within the mist, dark-cloaked figures began to appear out of the tendrils of air.
One after another materialized out of nowhere, creating a line of hundreds, if not thousands, of fallen standing shoulder to shoulder with the moving ebony mists at their backs.
The wilt was finally showing its true hand. The weapon that had been growing since the curse first fell upon Valdor. An army of the undead triggered by my victories in the trials and a sense that their hold on Valdor would soon come to an end.
“Daxton.” I coughed to try and clear my throat. “Have you ever seen this many gathered before?”
“No,” he answered. “I’ve never witnessed this many fallen creatures together like this.”
For once, words from my mate did little to comfort me.
“But,” Adohan said nervously, “it does make sense. The wilt has been growing for five centuries. Taking High Fae and other creatures under its control. This… This must be the result.”
I knew my magic could heal the fallen of the wilt, but I couldn’t even begin making a dent in the numbers standing before us.
“The wards will keep them back,” Adohan said with confidence. “We just need to get to safety behind Crimson City’s walls.”
“Get ready to run, Spitfire,” Daxton told me. “I can teleport us once we’re closer, but right now at this distance, I—”
“I know,” I breathed. “We’ll make it.”
“Shaw,” I said, reaching out for my beta. “We need to retreat. Get yourself, and anyone else you can, back inside Crimson City walls.”
“Already on it,” he said.
I felt Daxton tense beside me as he pushed forward to the opening. His eyes widened with fear as he screamed, “Zola!”
My eyes darted to the Shadow Jumper as she alone began marching toward the hundreds of fallen creatures materializing in the blackened mists.