Chapter 19
Amelia
Ruven and Danae needed to convince Elthar of their plan, and they were running out of time.
Amelia sat with Elthar and listened as they explained what Tharos had been planning in the human world.
“You want me to use my depleted troops to come through the rift and risk the rest of them? For the god-cursed? He has created an undying army that we can’t defeat, and you want more of us to die? No,” Elthar said simply.
“What do you think will happen next if we just allow the king to continue?” Danae asked.
“Do you think he will be content with the human lands and the Lifesource? Or do you think he might then realise that he has the power to create more skilled fae to send back into this world, and where’s he going to go?
I’d have thought he’d pay his nemesis a visit. ”
“He is one to gloat,” Elthar agreed. “You’re asking a lot of us.”
“What about Casyl? Can you save him?” Amelia asked.
“If he is truly immortal, then he should be safe enough in the battle, as long as we keep him out of the rift,” Elthar said.
“That isn’t the problem.” Amelia looked down at the map. “Tiryn will use Casyl to stop anyone who gets close.”
“Controlling Casyl continuously would be a huge strain on Tiryn’s power.”
“Then bring Casyl to me,” she said. The thought of facing Tiryn again turned her blood to ice. “I blocked Tiryn’s control over Casyl in the mine. If I get close enough, I can do it again.”
“It could work,” Ruven said quietly.
“It has to,” Danae said. “We have to stop him, or we’ll all end up in the Shadowlands.”
*
They marched that afternoon, leading Elthar and his army towards the rift. By nightfall, they’d reached the ancient forest.
“This is where the entrance is?” Elthar asked. “In there?”
Amelia nodded.
“This is sacred ground. The beasts lurk in the forest for a reason. To keep us out,” he hissed.
She flinched, remembering that he had been the one who had wanted her dead.
He noticed her flinch and looked away. “It was never personal. I hope you understand that.”
She nodded again. She understood. If she had known how Tiryn was going to use her, she would have gladly sacrificed herself.
The king had created an army of monsters that had slain her own people.
The world as she knew it was now non-existent.
She blinked back the tears that blurred her vision.
This was all her fault. If only she’d listened to Emin.
Even if they managed to kill the king and defeat his army, her city was gone; everyone she cared about was probably dead by now. Logically she knew it was the king’s fault, but if she had just died, she could have prevented all of this.
They cautiously entered the forest. No one spoke as they moved as quietly as possible until they reached the rift. The silence was eerie. The birdsong had stopped at their approach.
She felt a prickle on her arms as the hairs rose.
The rift was like a scar on the mountain.
Elthar dismounted and approached the rift. He sank to his knees before it.
“The homeland,” he cried.
“Come on,” Ruven said quietly and patted his shoulder.
Elthar looked up at him. “You don’t understand. This place has haunted my dreams for centuries.”
Was he old enough to remember? These fae lived for centuries and they had shared her world once upon a time, but how long ago was that?
He rose and followed Ruven through the rift, leading his horse behind him. The rift shimmered as the army followed suit. It took hours for them all to descend the mountain. They made camp near the base where they would wait for Tiryn’s army.
In Elthar’s tent, they met with his generals to discuss the strategy.
Eleandor, the sage, as the fae called him, was there. She didn’t know how they could trust him. She remained near the back of the tent.
They would split the army into three groups. A small group would remain in the centre as a decoy whilst two larger forces split off to either side. Tharos would hide them until the enemy had engaged and then unleash hell.
“What if Tiryn brings his whole army?” Felin, Elthar’s captain, asked.
“He won’t. Tharos has a plan, and he is quite believable,” Ruven replied, wearing the same grin she’d realised she’d missed.
Felin was having a hard time taking them at their word.
“If it comes to the worst, we can always retreat through the rift and try to kill them if they follow,” Elthar said.
“It won’t come to that,” Ruven insisted. “But Tiryn needs to die.”
*
As the sun climbed into the sky, a scout appeared in the distance.
“It’s time,” Danae said.
The army split into three and stood prepared, ready for the enemy to come into sight.
Amelia was nervous. She was eager for the battle to go their way, for their plan to work, but she was also eager to see Casyl.
She would only play a minor role in the battle, but the responsibility resting on her was crushing. If she could not block Tiryn’s power, they would fail, and it would all be for nothing.
They sent their own scouts to see what they were facing. One returned with news that an army much smaller than theirs was approaching, with no sign of further forces behind it.
“He did it!” Ruven said, cheering. “This might actually work!”
“I thought you were confident that it would?” Amelia asked.
“I was overly optimistic,” he replied with a grin.
Ruven left to join the army whilst she stayed close to the rift.
Danae remained beside her. Neither spoke.
Tiryn’s army came into sight as their armour glistened on the horizon. She could make out Casyl at the front; his silver breastplate shone as he led his men.
Relief struck first when she saw Casyl, followed by dread when she saw Tiryn behind him.
She hoped desperately that they’d be able to save him from this, from his father.
The mountain vibrated as the enemy charged towards the central force. They were blind to the rest of Elthar’s army waiting to attack from either side.
She had a good view of the whole fight from her position on the mountain. The enemy slammed into Elthar’s army.
She winced at the roar of clashing metal and men screaming.
There were shouts of confusion and anger as Tharos must have dismissed his illusion. The army encircled them, penning them in. She released her breath, realising that she’d been holding it until that moment.
The fighting was thick. The ground at the bottom of the mountain churned into a muddy bog.
There was Casyl. Her eyes never left him as he fought below. His movements were slow, almost awkward. He’d lost some of his grace.
She suppressed a scream when an axe flew at him, momentarily forgetting that he couldn’t be killed on this side of the rift. It hit him in the chest, knocking him off his horse.
Ruven was forcing his way through the battle, heading straight towards Tiryn. His personal guard surrounded him as he stood helplessly gripping a sword. It was clear that he had not wielded one in a long time.
The fighting was intense around Tiryn. Fae swarmed towards him.
Elthar and his men followed Ruven, beating back Tiryn’s guards.
Ruven seized the king and dragged him through the battle with unearthly speed and strength.
Elthar’s soldiers opened a path for them, then closed ranks behind them to hold back the enemy.
Screaming and cursing, Tiryn was hauled up the mountain towards her and the rift.
She braced, ready. His power felt stronger the closer they got. The air vibrated around him, and she knew what to do.
He saw her and shouted, “You little round-eared bitch,” before Ruven pulled him completely through the rift with a cry.
She ignored his outburst and followed them, reaching for the power she could feel emanating from him. She smothered its energy like a blanket over a fire, willing it to stop.
Tiryn recoiled beneath her attack and fought back with everything he had. She sank to her knees as a forceful wave of magic engulfed her. It swept over her, threatening to wash her away. Her body tensed as she pushed against the force, fighting it with every part of her being.
He would not win. She would not let him.
His power had grown weak, and hers had grown stronger since their first meeting, when he had raided her mind for memories. She now knew how to control her power and how to block his.
The vibrating air stilled around him, and he was defenceless as Casyl came through the rift.
She saw the moment he regained control of his own body: the light returned to his eyes, their colour flashing from deep blue to silver.
Casyl headed towards his father with his sword raised. Amelia searched his face for hesitation. For a moment she feared he would not do it.
Tiryn’s head rolled across the ground.
She paused, as if expecting him to still rise.
He didn’t. Tiryn simply lay there, finally silent.
Amelia let out a sob.
He was dead.
She approached Casyl cautiously. Silver light burned in his irises, but the rest of him seemed broken.
It really was him.
She hesitated for a moment, unsure. Had it been real? Would he be happy to see her, or blame her for his father’s death?
She tensed. It had become a reflex. She didn’t want to fear him. She knew the man in the mine who had attacked her had not been Casyl, but her body did not understand the difference.
He stopped before her.
She forced herself to take a step forward and meet him halfway.
They sank beside Tiryn’s lifeless body, and after Casyl’s broken apology, she closed her hand around his trembling fingers.
“I can try.” She would try to forgive him.
That did not mean she could trust him all at once. She could not forget.
Casyl stood, offering her his hand. She hesitated, then took it as he drew her briefly into his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder, shaking.
They strode back through the rift to where the battle still raged at the base of the mountain, leaving the fallen king where he lay.
Casyl raised the conch and blew the signal to retreat, but he made no effort to move, remaining still, watching in silence as his men scrambled away, fighting to escape the muddy battleground.
He turned to look at her. He needed no words.
His gaze became distant, and suddenly he tensed.
“Gods and curses!” he said, his voice shaking.
She stared at the terror that had formed on his face. He gaped at the mountain. She turned around and froze.
Out of the rift, a monster emerged. A creature of the forest had found its way through.
“Ruven! Tharos! Beware!” Casyl yelled. Both men turned towards him, then followed his stare to where the creature stood.
It was the same as the one that had chased her from the forest. She recognised its long, sinewy limbs and deer-like head.
The army stood still, waiting, unsure of what was about to happen, and then from its skeletal face, the creature screamed into the sky, exposing its hideous mouth of razor-sharp teeth. It was a creature of nightmares. The ground shook and snow cascaded down the mountain.
“Leshies,” Casyl said. “There’s another!”
A second creature emerged from the rift, as though summoned by the first.
The army sprang into action. Archers fired arrows at the two monsters as the creatures rushed down the hill towards them. They swung their enormous limbs, knocking soldiers into the air.
Amelia and Casyl ran towards his horse and mounted it before it bolted in terror.
“Run!” Casyl yelled at the men. “Run! Get away!”
The army scrambled in all directions away from the creatures.
Amelia looked back. She couldn’t tear her eyes away as some of the fae tried to fight them, their swords powerless. The Leshies seized one of the fae soldiers and pulverised him, his ashes scattering in the wind towards the rift.
“Did you see that?”
The fae were immortal here and couldn’t kill each other, but those creatures could?
Some men had run back through the rift, taking their chances in the ancient forest instead of this foreign land.
Once they were a safe distance away, Casyl brought his horse to a halt and turned to watch as the beasts ran free into the world, chasing those that had run towards the city.
“We need to get them back through the rift and close it before anything else comes through,” he said.
This was bad.
“How many beasts are there?”
“Too many.”