Chapter Nine #3
Before there, though, is the spot where éibhear and Tish have clearly begun preparations for the spell.
They huddle behind a ward, a small table bearing a scroll and what I assume is the lucifer’s seal with them.
Their side of the battle is being directed by a small group not far from the ward—two elves, a sorcerer, and a hellhound.
Ten feet away, behind another ward, the dragonet is in the arms of an elf.
The dragonet’s not paying any attention to the terrifying battle raging before her, though; instead, her focus is on us.
Or more specifically, on Brandt. Her wing leader.
His presence would sing in her veins, and the hope visible on her tiny face even at this distance tears me apart.
Leaning in, I ask Sam if David and the others are aware of where the commanders are.
“Yes,” he reports, “but they say they haven’t had a moment free to do anything about it. Every time they try, they get rushed.”
I narrow my eyes and study the scene anew. It does seem oddly coincidental that despite the many clusters of troops we have and the way they’re slowly but surely overtaking the enemy, every time any of them turns attention to the commanders, they find themselves swamped by insurgents.
“This ward is only one-way, correct? I can cast a spell outward?”
Sam nods. “Yes.”
Slowly, gradually, I build and cast a spy spell, letting it creep out unnoticed onto the field of battle. It slithers amongst the chaos, searching, searching…
There! A similar spell, one designed to warn the maker when negative attention is cast in their direction. Sneaky.
I check on my charges. Brandt is still utterly focused on the dragonet, and I can feel energy building around him.
I don’t know what he’s planning, but if I’m going to support him, I’ll need to get this done quickly.
The king and the lucifer are intent on watching the ebb and flow of battle, occasionally pointing things out to Sam and Noah, who relay them through their headsets to our people on the field.
Okay. Now. How to attack without seeming to?
Keeping my gaze and my thoughts pinned on a group of insurgents grappling with one of our teams, I build an explosive spell.
Then I open a tiny gateway into the void, angling my body to shield it from sight and hoping nobody will feel it with all the chaos.
I wait for the perfect moment, mentally reciting the alphabet over and over to block out any thoughts…
…and open another gateway out of the void, shoving the spell through just as one of the elf commanders jerks his head toward me.
The last thing he sees is me twiddling my fingers in a little fuck-you wave Alistair taught me.
And the best part? Body parts and gore have no intention to harm. They pose no danger, unlike a bullet or blade. So they rain right through éibhear and Tish’s ward. Watching blood and gray matter splash across éibhear’s face certainly improves my day.
A cheer goes up amongst those of our people who noticed. A moment later, Sam turns to me with a huge grin on his face. “David says you can name whatever sexual favors you want for the rest of the year.”
“If you like, I’ll have it written into his employment contract,” Lucifer Percy says nonchalantly. “Seeing that was worth having HR lecture me on appropriate behavior.”
“I think we can work it out between us,” I reply, fairly certain he’s joking.
I turn my attention away from the battle, which, with the military leadership of the other side gone, is breaking down into routs, and focus on Brandt.
More and more energy is building around him, and I’m sure the air temperature has gone up slightly in this area.
“What do you need?” I murmur to him. We can’t snatch the dragonet back while that ward around her stands, but an assault on the ward might cause her guard to harm her—or might cause harm directly if there’s any backlash.
“Another distraction. She nearly had it that time. And a demon to teleport her to us.”
“Gideon will do it,” Sam says, then murmurs into his headset.
I have no idea what Brandt meant by “she nearly had it,” but if he needs a distraction, I can give him one.
I pick a group of insurgents who’ve broken away from our troops and prepare a spell that tosses their bodies high in the air—adding some wholly unnecessary sound effects.
That part is just a childish trick, but it will definitely create a distraction.
“Ready?” I ask. Brandt nods.
“Ready,” Sam relays.
I sling the spell.
There’s no blood or gore splatter this time, as the spell is designed differently, but the screams from those being thrown about paired with the sound of nonexistent explosions certainly grab attention.
And the dragonet strikes. The energy Brandt has been building is sucked away so sharply, the air seems too thin to breathe.
The power bursts from her, decimating the ward from the inside and incinerating her guard.
Some of it smashes against the ward protecting éibhear and Tish, and a few of their people who are close enough and unprotected shriek as the wave of hot energy envelops them.
Gideon is already by the dragonet’s side, snatching her up and flashing away. He appears beside us a moment later, and the toddler lunges out of his arms toward Brandt.
“Thank you,” Brandt says, his voice breaking. “Hello, sweetheart. I have you now.”
Gideon smiles, and I do a double take. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that expression on his face. It’s gone a second later as he turns and jogs back out through the ward and into the fray.
“Is she unhurt?” the king is asking, and Brandt nods.
“Physically, yes. Noah?”
“Five of the eight compounds are ours. No sign of counterattacks.”
“Caolan?”
I know what he wants—we talked about this. I open a portal to the settlement camp where the dragonet’s surviving mother is. She was slowly weaned from sedation, but since then she has been under guard to prevent her from literally burning the world down in search of her baby.
“Leave it open,” he orders. “I’ll be back in a moment.
” He steps through, and I turn half my attention back to the battle.
Anyone with strategic experience would have known that the tide was always in our favor, but even a civilian would be able to see that now.
The fighting is all but done, with clusters of the enemy now surrendering, while the diehards fall back to form a living barrier in front of éibhear and Tish’s ward.
It’s over. With the dragonet gone and all the adult dragons here under strict instructions not to shift and flame, they cannot complete the spell.
Most of their forces here are decimated, and if Noah’s reports are right, so are most of their forces elsewhere.
Their advantage was always that we didn’t know where they were and where they were keeping their hostage. That’s gone now.
David comes back to the ward, stepping through. He’s more disheveled than I’ve ever seen him, his face streaked with grime and blood.
“Is any of that blood yours?” I demand, casting a spell to assess his physical condition. He shakes his head even as the spell reports that he’s got a sprained wrist and some minor lacerations to his torso, but no head injury that might be the source of the blood.
“I’m fine. Bumps and bruises that can wait.” The steady look he aims at me dares me to contradict him.
We’ll finish this discussion later.
“With your permission,” he says to the lucifer and the king, “we’re going to move you and this ward forward so you can demand their surrender.”
“Permission granted,” the king says, and the lucifer nods. As David, two other sorcerers, and three elves prepare to move the ward, the king turns to me. “Are you ready?”
éibhear has been tried and sentenced. The life force assisted the king with the spell that would ensure his soul death—his soul will not travel to the ether and eventually be reborn any longer. His next death will be his last.
And King Raeulfr offered that death to me, in honor of my service. Vengeance could be mine if I so choose.
Despite everything, it was not an easy decision. I believe in the rule of law that says his life is forfeit for his crimes. My people do not sentence to death lightly or often. In all memory, living and dead, there are only three instances, including éibhear.
He does not decry his innocence.
He does not express remorse.
When offered the opportunity to cease his crimes, he instead found a different world to wreak them upon. And plotted to destroy the order of the universe.
Living existence is not safe as long as he lives.
“I’m ready.”
Beside me, I feel a rush of energy in my portal, and Brandt steps through. Following him are the Earth species leaders. Aidan, I know, but the others are strangers—a vampire, a succubus, a demon, and a sorcerer.
The ward is moved across the field, over bodies strewn about like dolls—broken, bloody dolls with sightless eyes.
More stains upon éibhear’s soul.
When we’re within fifteen feet of the last enemy line, a hulking demon near the front shouts, “Stop right there!”
We stop, and the king turns to the lucifer. “After you.”
Percy smiles, then raises his voice. “Please stand aside. You have erred, and you will face consequences, but you need not die.”
The remaining ranks of the enemy, perhaps fifty or so, falter. There are a few amongst them who sneer and stand firm, but the rest…
David told me about this. About the young ones who were never taught the truth of the life force.
Who don’t understand that leaders are selected by it, not by themselves.
I can see it now as they feel the full effect of the lucifer’s presence.
Those who are here through deceit and not choice suddenly find themselves conflicted.
Truthfully, we could take them. There are so few of them left that they would pose no challenge.
But we would all prefer the healing begin now.
Percy looks to his species leaders.
Aidan steps forward. “Shifters, please stand aside. I ask in the name of the magic that created us all. That guides us all. Please come back to us.”
Toward one end of the rank, a young hellhound, his face a picture of confusion and misery, steps forward. Instantly, an older hellhound snarls and lashes out, knocking him to the ground.
It’s a mistake.
Those who were unsure are now certain—where the lucifer and Aidan offered peace, their own struck them down. A fight breaks out and quickly takes over, dragging in all the Earth species and the remaining elves.
David shakes his head. “May I?” he asks, and the king and the lucifer reluctantly grant permission.
The percussive shock of whatever David does rings through the valley, knocking the enemy to the ground. Interestingly, many among them remain standing, looking about in confusion before quickly making their way over to where a group of enforcers waits to take them into custody.
“How did you make it so it didn’t affect our side?” Noah asks curiously.
“Now is not the time,” Andrew says dryly, taking his hand.
“How do we take down that ward?” I ask, eyeing it. I can’t see all of it, only the parts intertwined with elven magic, and I know most of the others can see even less, just hints of the energy being emitted. A properly woven, functioning ward is invisible—unless designed otherwise.
Before anyone can offer a suggestion, there’s a surge. The life force whips around us all, an etheric wind, and the ward wavers and comes down.
The shock on éibhear’s face will live in my memory forever.
I cast my spell in that moment of confusion, a solid boulder of force that whistles through the space between us, almost unnoticed, and punches through éibhear’s torso, leaving a gaping hole the size of a fist as he collapses soundlessly to the ground. Dead.
Eternally.
I’ve been so conflicted over this for so many weeks that I thought for certain I’d feel remorse. Regret.
I don’t. He doesn’t get to take anything more from me or anyone.