Chapter 33 Dayton
Dayton
I’m flung backward, the world erupting into shards of rock, whipping wind, and a roar that fills my ears. Rosie’s voice echoes through my mind: Attack!
Everything goes quiet, replaced by a dull ringing.
There’s no time to process any of it—not the pain as my body smashes against stone or even how the ground exploded—before rocks are pummeling down on me. It’s all I can do to curl in a ball and protect the back of my neck. Through the buzzing, I hear screams.
Then silence.
Only moments ago, I’d been at the head of my squadron, a group of elite soldiers made up of Frostfang troopers, Tundrafolk warriors, and a few gladiators who accompanied us on the airship from Summer.
Though she looked like a tiny doll from up here, I’d had eyes on Rosie, and I knew things weren’t going according to plan.
I could tell it from her body language, even so far away.
As the scouts led us to this lookout point, it became apparent there was more to this camp than we understand. We kept passing tunnels I’d never seen on the maps, new ones with freshly ground stone. Who was making these passageways so quickly?
Now, I’m encased in rock, pressing against me on all sides. I can’t see or hear anything except that incessant ringing. I take a shaky breath; the oxygen is low. Too low.
I have to get out of here now.
With a grunt, I try to push up, but it’s no use. How many feet of rubble am I trapped beneath? I need more strength. No wind will lift these rocks, and no water will float me to the top. Gritting my teeth, I close my eyes. Only one thing will help me now.
The guardian of Summer.
I feel his spirit within me, familiar and new all at once.
Since I broke my curse, I’ve never called upon him.
How could I? Farron has no problem transforming into that flaming pup of his.
But this beast… It trapped me. Condemned me.
So many nights of my life were lost to that prison. Why would I ever go back to him?
Dayton! Dayton, are you okay? Are you okay? Rosalina’s voice is frantic in my mind, screaming.
I’m out of options. I’m not fucking dying again.
With a grimace that turns into a roar, the wolf flows through me.
Golden fur grows, shimmering, adorned with pearls and vibrant coral instead of rotten seaweed.
My body doubles in size, then triples, then quadruples.
Rubble shivers off my back. I surge upward through the rock, bursting into the open air with a tremendous howl.
Dayton. Her voice whispers through my mind like a salve. You’re okay.
It’ll take a little more than an explosion to bring me down, baby, I assure her. Look after yourself. I’m coming for you.
I shake, one of my ears ringing. Thankfully, there’s light; crystals that grew along the walls still shine, even after the collapse.
There’s a small opening leading down to the war camp below.
With the wolf’s nose, the sulfuric smell is overwhelming.
What sort of technology do these horned bastards have to blow up an entire tunnel?
Rosalina needs me, but so do my men. I dig through the wreckage, sending up great plumes of dust. Out of the thirty soldiers I took with me, I find nine alive.
I also uncover my twin blades and wiggle their straps over my head so they’re tight to my body.
We came to negotiate. They killed twenty of us without a thought.
Rage riots through me, and a growl sounds through my chest. I look to my surviving troops. “Let’s show these spike-headed assholes who the fuck they’re messing with.”
With a howl, we charge forward. I lead the way, leaping out of the hole toward the war camp. A gust of Summer wind slows our landing, safely delivering me and my team to the ground.
Even though there’s only ten of us, we stand in formation, a formidable sight: the giant wolf and nine warriors of Summer and Winter.
“Avenge the fallen! Protect the innocent! Attack!” I roar. We charge into the camp.
Underfae soldiers rush us. Like the assassin, they move with unsettling grace. That bastard may have fucked me up last time, but I’m ready now. I charge the first one head-on, not even giving him a chance to engage me. With a swing of my massive snout, I knock him aside.
I see my target: the rows of siege weapons. If those make it out of here, they could pummel the walls of Frostfang into powder.
The trebuchet rises on wooden legs, its frame reinforced with black iron that gleams with frost. Ropes as thick as my arm twist tightly around its massive counterweight, a stone slab that sways ominously as if daring gravity to set it loose.
The throwing arm stretches upward like a crooked spear, and at its tip hangs a sling, large enough to hold a boulder.
Farron would probably do something fancy, like light the trebuchets on fire. Or Ez would know which pin to pull to make the whole thing collapse. But I’m not sophisticated like them. I’m going to turn this thing to pulp with my damned teeth.
I leap at the contraption, smashing my weight into it.
It collapses to the ground with a crash.
Grabbing the ropes with my teeth, I tear until the fibers snap, loosening the counterweight.
I push my body against the throwing arm, driving it the opposite way.
A whine squeezes out of me as I push and push and push.
It only needs to snap and then this whole thing might as well be firewood—
Something blinding and white-hot punches into my shoulder, ripping the air from my lungs and sending me tumbling away from the trebuchet. What the fuck was that? I shake my head and heave to my feet.
“Bad dog! That’s not for playing with, silly!” a high-pitched voice calls.
I blink through my hazy vision to see a woman. She’s green, but not like the creepy goblins and skeletons I’m used to fighting. This is a mossy green, with lighter skin and darker hair that gives way for two curved horns.
Damn, there’s not a lot left to the imagination. The spear she’s holding and the net coiled around her arm hide almost as much as her skintight clothing. A long, thin tail whips behind her.
I might have thought this strange fae was desirable years ago—in a terrifying, blast-my-face-off kind of way—before Rosie arrived and blew all my expectations of beauty out of the water.
The woman tilts her head. “I’m Priestess Aquila. What’s your name, dog?”
“Name’s Dayton. And you’re about to find out what happens when you mess with a prince of Castletree.”
“Oo, the puppy has teeth!” Her expression changes from playful to a delighted snarl. She holds her spear up, and a burst of blue lightning crackles on the tip. “You’re going to make a beautiful rug.”
With a growl, my shape changes, the visage of the wolf making way for the man. I sling my scabbards over my back and draw my twin blades. “You’re not getting one hair from my body—”
She laughs, nearly doubling over.
“What?” A chill runs through me. I look down, realizing I’m butt naked besides my scabbards. “Hey, it’s cold in here.”
Her tongue sweeps out over her lips, and I see her two canines are sharply pointed. “You’ll make an even better rug now. I’ll skin you, then tan you, then oil you, then lay you right beside my bed so I can step on you every night. Wouldn’t you like that, gorgeous?”
“You are seriously fucked in the head.” Then, because I can’t stand to listen to another word, I charge.
She gives a girlish shrieking giggle, then twirls her spear, an ugly, twisted root of a thing with a jagged blade on the end encased in glowing crystals. “Dance for me, gorgeous.” She points the spear at me.
With a sharp hiss, a bolt of lightning shoots toward me. I leap out of the way but don’t stop running. Another jolt comes down at my bare feet, but I jump over it. I draw my swords, arcing them—
She holds up her spear, blocking the attack. What? The hilt appears made of wood. My blades should have cut through it like butter. With a growl, I swing again, going for her legs. She twirls her spear, parrying. A smug smile crawls up her face. I backflip away from her to gain some room.
She takes the opportunity and leaps over the broken trebuchet. There’s another one right behind it. Light-footed as a gazelle, she ascends to the top of the wooden contraption, then fires a lightning bolt down at me. It catches me in the shoulder, the pain molten.
“You bitch,” I growl.
“That’s me!” she chirps.
Anger rumbling in my chest, I sheathe my blades and hold my hands out to the sides.
Kel and I may seem as different as two people could be, but Winter’s and Summer’s magic share the most similarities.
We both love the wind and the water. And there’s water all around, trapped in the ice.
There’s even frost along the wood of the trebuchet.
I grit my teeth with the force of breaking the liquid out of its icy shell.
But once it’s free… A torrent arcs like a sea serpent at my command.
I beam it toward her. Her eyes widen as it strikes her in the chest, knocking her off the trebuchet.
I sprint for her fallen body, calling forth the Trident of Honor as I run.
When I round past the siege weapons, she’s not there.
“Yoo-hoo! Gorgeous!”
I look up. She’s hanging off the trebuchet with one hand, the other pointing her spear at me.
The next lightning bolt takes me straight in the chest, sending my heart sputtering and chasing the breath from my lungs. I’m hurled backward, my naked body skidding across the rough ground.
I can’t stand up. My heart’s not beating at the right rhythm. I clutch at my ribs as if I could straighten my organs out. The priestess dances over to me, then slams a foot down on my chest.
“Beautiful surface boy.” Her tone softens. “In my youth, I would have been so smitten by someone like you.”
She bends down, squatting over me and stroking my face. I try to wiggle my fingers. That last shot made all my nerves go numb.
“I was beautiful once too. Can you believe it? I bet you can’t.
You’re the kind of surface boy who reminded me just how ugly I am.
” Her voice descends to a dark rasp, eyebrows lowering, teeth gritted.
“What shall I take of you for my collection? Your ears for a necklace? Your eyes for a jar? Perhaps I’ll cut off your cock and hang it above my bed for good luck. ”
Maybe I’ve had enough time to catch my breath. Or maybe my body heard the threat against my cock and thought yeah, no way that’s happening. But my heart regulates. My lungs fill with air. And I snarl, “Keep dreaming.”
With a roar, I throw my body up, rolling her onto her back and pinning her legs down with mine, holding her wrists with one hand. Her spear clatters away. I reach behind me with my free hand for my blade.
“Oo, how romantic.” She smiles. “How stupid.”
Aquila opens her mouth wide. Too wide. Her jaw unhinges from its socket. She blows outward, emitting a puff of putrid green gas. The vapor gusts straight into my face, and I cry out, falling away from her. My eyes burn, my nostrils are aflame, and my throat feels like I could breathe fire.
With the ringing still in my ears and my sight nothing but a green cloud, I don’t even know what direction she comes from when she smacks me across the face with the hilt of her spear.
“I’m bored of playing with you now,” she says. “Maybe I won’t get my rug after all. Maybe I’ll blast you to bits till you’re nothing but ash.”
I try to respond, but every breath feels like drinking lava.
“Look at your beautiful men. Oh, you can’t, so I’ll describe it to you. They’re dying, doggy. Falling like a hare under a fox’s tooth. You surface people are so lovely to look at, but your skin is soft, your hearts even softer. They’re all dead, doggy. And you’ll be next.”
“N-no,” I manage. I fall forward, trying to crawl away, but something lands on top of me. Her net. I try to tear it off, but my limbs get tangled in its webbing.
“There’s nothing left for you,” she hisses.
Dayton! We have to retreat. We must get to the bridge! Hurry! Rosalina’s voice in my mind.
I’m kind of in the middle of something, Blossom, I reply. You go on without me. I’ll be there soon as I can.
No. He’ll get you.
Then another voice, one I’ve never heard in my head, slips through. Gods damn it, Dayton, you couldn’t even wear pants for a fight? Truly, you have no shame. I admire it.
And I never thought I would be so damned happy to feel Caspian’s briars wrap around me.
“What?” Aquila shrieks. “Come back!”
But my body is engulfed in briars. With my free hand, I wipe my eyes, clearing them a little, and blink around at the war camp. It’s overrun with underfae. More and more pour out of the tunnels.
Toward the entrance to the camp, I see Kel and Rosie sheltering behind a golden briar patch. Purple thorns burst up, encircling them and their men. Caspian stands in the center.
A man with a huge black sword screams loud enough for the whole camp to hear: “Mobilize the mole riders! It is time for our assault on the bridge!”
As I’m swept away into the earth, I catch Aquila’s gaze once more. She smiles that serpentine smile, picks up her net, and waves. “See you later, gorgeous. We’ll be up there soon.”