Chapter 25
Graysen
Iturned a stunned expression on Mela. I had no fucking idea the V?duvas possessed a phynx. They were so fucking rare they were practically a myth in our world.
But the moment of wonder shattered when the fighting surged closer. The warband was faltering. A sea of gigantic, masked warriors in ivory, stained red with our blood, closed in with merciless intent.
Fuck, what are we going to do?
“We need to form a shield wall and hold them off until help arrives.” Mela’s determination snapped my focus back to her. She’d already drawn her saber, firelight sliding along the graceful curve of the blade. “We’ll need every single shield and every person able to stand to pull it off.”
Petra crouched beside a hunter drenched in blood, her hands steady as she deftly tightened a tourniquet around their thigh.
A medic rushed in to take over. Straightening, Petra swiveled our way.
I almost flinched. I’d never seen her look so beaten and exhausted before.
She’d overheard Mela’s idea and threw up a frustrated hand, sticky with blood.
“What’s the use? They’ll simply swift in. ”
Despair clawed up my throat. She wasn’t wrong.
Sudden movement had me swinging around, raising my sword.
Jiao staggered out of the swirling smoke. Two Crowther soldiers flanked him, half dragging him as they drove off a masked warrior with a desperate slash. He broke free and stumbled to my side.
“No. No, they won’t. We have this,” he rasped breathlessly. Black blood splattered his armor, soot settling into the faint lines around his eyes, aging him beyond his years. It looked as if he’d carved his way through the entire godsdamned cavern to reach me.
“You had me worried. Are you okay?”
He gave a tight, pained nod. “I’m okay,” he lied.
Yanking a small black device from his bandoleer, he held it aloft. A mottled-green stone glimmered faintly at its center. “Your brother’s. One of House Simonis’s devices he altered. He wanted me to carry it… Just in case.”
My eyebrows shot up, but I shouldn’t have been surprised.
Caidan was always pulling devices apart to see how they worked.
He’d been tinkering with it in the library this past week, muttering—Now that we have an army of dead warriors that can swift, it’d be good if I could figure out a way to create an anti-swifting device we can carry on us.
“He got it working?”
Of course, my brilliant brother had.
Before Jiao could reply, Mela asked, “What is it?”
My second spoke fast. “It’s a miniature form of the monolith towers that keep anything from swifting onto our estates.
It has short-range protection. It won’t prevent them from physically entering the zone, but it will stop them from swifting in.
” Then he grimaced. “Caidan hasn’t been able to fully test. But it’s our best shot. ”
Our only fucking shot.
I looked at Petra. Her face was streaked with blood, jaw set like stone. She gave a single, decisive nod. Mela’s fierce gaze snapped to mine. “Do it.”
I clapped Jiao’s arm. “Let’s build a fucking stronghold.”
A heartbeat later, my roar thundered across the cavern. “FALL BACK!” The warband responded, retreating in staggered groups, fighting their way back toward us.
Swiveling around, I grabbed hold of Yezekael and thrust him at Mela. “Keep him alive for Sirro.” If anything came out of this mess, I needed that creature alive for the Horned God to glean vital information about my mother’s abductors. That was if Sirro was even alive.
Mela seized his arm, ignoring his hiss of pain. “Will do,” she grinned with menace.
Yezekael swallowed.
Petra sprinted along the line of hunters, her gruff voice booming over the clash of blades and the thud of bolts. “SHIELDS UP! FORM A WALL!”
Jiao took a quick step back and turned his attention to the House Simonis device Caidan had tampered with.
He pressed a small button, and the boxlike shape altered.
A long pole shot out from the bottom, a spike gleaming at its tip, while the mottled-green stone settled at the apex.
He raised the device overhead and slammed it into the rocky floor.
Stone splintered, gritty chunks flying wide.
A grinding, whirring sound filled the cavern as the spike screwed itself deeper into the ground.
All the fine hair at the back of my neck rose as dark magic, powerful and sinister, speared across the small area we’d chosen for our last stand.
A sickly green glow leaked from the device’s stone, illuminating the darkness and casting ominous shadows over us all.
The waves of strumming magic intensified as the device began to thump, thump, thump like a ponderous heartbeat.
Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I rolled my shoulders and loosened my limbs. “I’ll take point while Petra raises the wall,” I told Jiao. “Take a team and guard the warband as they fall back.”
My sword whined as I unsheathed the second. Twirling them both in whirring arcs, I stepped toward the chaos—only to stop short as Jiao planted himself in front of me, blocking my path.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, his expression darkening.
I scowled, taken aback. “Giving you time to create the stronghold.” We could only do this if the Children of the Harbinger were distracted. And I was going to be the distraction—they were, after all, here for me.
He grabbed my shoulder, squeezing hard in one of those don’t-you-fucking-dare grips, then pitched his voice low so no one could hear us. “You’re not going anywhere. We need to get you out of here. You’ve got the speed to escape this.”
Anger stormed through my veins at being ordered to leave everyone behind, and besides, it wouldn’t work. “They’ll simply swift and catch—”
Jiao cut me off, hissing, “They’ll be distracted by our attempt to build a shield wall. The warband will keep their attention pinned on us so you can get out.” At my fearsome glare, he let go of my shoulder to stab a finger into my chest. “Your family’s orders, Graysen.”
I leaned in until we were nearly nose to nose. “I know. I get it.” They were all prepared to sacrifice themselves to save my neck. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
If I die here, I die here.
I actually couldn’t fucking afford to die. Dying wasn’t an option for me.
We stared each other down, neither willing to break. Like hells it was going to be me.
Except…I did.
Exhaling sharply, I softened my biting tone to remind Jiao of what kind of family we were. “We’re not the kind of House that leaves anyone behind. Your father knows that better than anyone.” We’d kept Wes alive twelve years ago, my mother and I. Aside from Ferne and me, he was the only survivor.
Jiao’s nostrils flared as he mentally bucked up against my elder brother’s orders. A moment later, his stiff posture eased, and he gave a sharp nod of agreement.
I grinned in relief.
His returning smile was tight and somber, but pride flickered across his face. He tapped me on the chest again, gentler this time. “Don’t die on me. My dad will kick my ass. Kenton too. And I don’t want to be the one who drags your corpse back to your father.”
“Don’t intend to,” I shot back, adjusting my grip on my swords.
I launched forward just as Jiao blew a piercing whistle.
His orders faded behind me as I plunged into the fray, hurtling through the retreating ranks of Crowthers, dodging bodies and jagged boulders until I was deep in enemy territory.
The Children of the Harbinger turned toward me as I sliced across the cavern, cutting a path through smoky air and blistering heat from flames devouring corpses.
Bloodlust was a potent poison pounding in my ears, my heartbeat matching its dark rhythm as I fell under the sway of slaying.
They attacked in waves.
A collision of wills.
A clash of blades and bolts.
My wyrmblade and its twin bastard rang like chimes as my world narrowed to hammering heartbeats and rasping breaths. Instinct took over. And I became a turbulent maelstrom, dragging everything within reach into a vortex of death.
Like a searing desert storm, I carved my way up and down the line, protecting those behind me as Petra and the V?duvas worked frantically to raise a shield wall.
A few masked warriors swifted in front of their ranks, but Jiao anticipated them and drove them back.
The warband retreated in small teams, positioning themselves within the curved line of V?duvas.
Shields ignited, and they locked them into place beside the others.
The expanding barrier of hardened air vibrated against the battle and the steady thump-thump-thump of the anti-swifter.
Then everything changed.
The brutal warriors slowed their attack.
Slowed right down until they stopped.
They lowered their swords, and all that stirred was the faint ruffling of their robes settling around their gigantic figures.
The cavern fell eerily still.
I skidded to a halt, sending stones flying. My chest heaved as sweat trickled down my forehead. I held myself as deathly still as they did until…
…as one, the Children of the Harbinger stepped aside, parting like the Houses would for Sirro.
Before I realized what I was doing, I angled myself toward the opening.
Someone had arrived.
And something in me snapped awake.
My nostrils flared as a ridge of thorny temper hackled down my spine. That thing arose from the dark depths of my being, clawing its way through my body, snarling and snapping.
My furious gaze shot down the narrow avenue to the furthest end of the cavern.
A lone figure stood there, staring straight at me.
Not as tall as the others. His long tunic fluttered in a ghostly wind, revealing stiff black leather armor scuffed with dust as if he’d traveled long and far to get down here.
He raised a double-handed sword, its silver blade sleek and menacing with intricate etching running down the fuller.