20. Chapter 20
It didn’t take long for the sound of battle to emerge.
Steel met nox flesh; the squelching roiled Yareli’s stomach.
Flashbacks to her previous kill threatened to finish the job.
Vomit rose up her throat, and she swallowed.
She couldn’t afford to slow down. A faint, but growing stronger, smell tainted the air.
She felt it—a slimy, oozing vibration coming from behind her. A larger nox force approached.
An explosion rocked the ground, sending her flying. She landed hard, grunting. She lay there for a moment, stunned, but when feet thudded past her face, she picked herself up. Smoke reached her nostrils, and despite the warning bells in her head, she looked back.
Flames climbed high in the sky, engulfing the village in its ravenous maws.
Buildings that had stood a mere hour ago collapsed, falling into themselves like sad, sagging corpses.
Yareli was rooted to the spot; she had never seen such blatant destruction.
Non-combatant Fae fled past her while the fighters pushed past them, yelling instructions.
“… safe spot!”
“Go!”
“Move!”
The commands trickled in like the words of a song playing in the background—nonsensical filler Yareli couldn’t make out from the cacophony of destruction and battle that raged in her ears.
A blond Fae warrior appeared in front of her and shoved her. She looked at him, frowning, and focused on his moving mouth.
“What are you doing? Run!”
His voice startled her into focus.
“I’m looking for August,” she said, immediately regretting it.
The blond Fae bunched his eyebrows, his attention flickering to the side of her head. She went to pull her hat down, but her hands caught nothing but air.
She stepped away. “Actually, I know where I’m going. Thanks.”
Yareli was mid-turn when he grabbed her arm. “What is a human doing here?”
“I—”
He shook his head, gripping her arm tighter. “Never mind. Let’s get you to safety.”
She wasn’t going anywhere with him. She dug her heels into the ground. “No, I need to find someone. He’s a general—tall, brown, black hair, hazel eyes.”
Recognition flickered in his blue eyes. He exclaimed, “You’re looking for First General Augrys?”
“Yes, Augrys.” She nodded, lying. She tried the name, disliking its taste in her mouth.
He assessed her again, taking in her full, disheveled appearance. He glanced at the burning buildings and then at her.
“Alright. I can take you to him. That’s likely the second safest spot right now. Besides, he’ll know what we should do about you.”
He said the last half mostly to himself, muttering it under his breath, but Yareli couldn’t blame him; she was an anomaly—something that shouldn’t exist in his realm.
Luckily for her, he didn’t seem particularly offended by her humanness as much as he was flabbergasted by her presence.
She gave him a reassuring smile. It was best if he believed her to be amiable and compliant for now, because she didn’t plan on meeting whoever the hell Augrys was.
As soon as she found an opening, she’d slip away from him and find August.
He released her arm. “I’m Raf, by the way.”
“Yareli.”
“Stay close. There are many nox here tonight. We need to scale a nearby building to get a view of the battlefield. Do you have any weapons on you?”
Yareli took a look at her garment, coated in dirt and ash. She had dressed up like a doll—dazzling and cute—but now its beauty was tarnished. She had been silly to think she could dabble in leisure.
She bit her lip. “No.”
Raf handed a dagger to her. “Do you know how to use it?”
“I do. Can you spare another?”
She could tell he was assessing her by the too-casual look in his eyes, but he handed her the second dagger without question.
“Thanks.”
He adjusted his hold on his claymore and pointed at a narrow alley between two burning buildings. “We need to go one street over. Are you sure you can do this?”
Yareli’s eyebrow twitched. Can not want.
Then, she remembered he had found her on the street, paralyzed by the wreckage she had witnessed.
Even now, an underlying resistance to her resolve pulsed; it wanted her to run from the danger, not toward it.
But if August was in the thick of battle, then she would be too.
He needed to know more foes were coming.
“I can,” she said. “Let’s go.”
He nodded and charged into the flames. Yareli followed with her head low, pulling her shawl over her nose to help with the smoke.
She ran until Raf stopped. He pointed up at a non-burning building.
His claymore blinked out of existence, likely stored in a pocket—a device that stored it in a separate space outside of their realm.
Leo had given her an abbreviated explanation about the magic behind weapon storage, and she envied its usefulness.
Raf squatted. “Get on. I’ll jump us up there.”
Once Yareli was securely on his back, he leaped onto the slanted roof.
He set her down, letting go of her only when she could balance on her own.
Her eyes widened at the sight that awaited them; it was a bloodbath.
Between the raging fire and debris, bodies were strewn around, both Fae and nox creatures alike.
She looked away from the couple of smaller Fae bodies that lay beneath larger ones.
An intense battle raged on between the two sides, but it was plain to see that the Fae were being pushed back by the waves of nox streaming into the streets.
Howlers and grippers roamed the battlefield, but there were two other types she didn’t recognize.
She scanned the village, searching for August, but she couldn’t make him out in the closer skirmishes. He had to be farther out.
Raf cursed. “They brought handlers and their rats.”
Yareli then noticed the rats and how they huddled around taller, humanoid nox creatures, which wore robes, giving the illusion of a magician. One of them shot a fireball from their hand. Not an illusion then; they wielded magic.
Another curse from Raf broke her concentration.
“I found First General Augrys.” He pointed toward the village center that Yareli had run from. “He’s occupied with a dancer.”
She squinted and attempted to make him out, but her human eyes could only see the dancer—a giant, slim humanoid nox creature.
It stood taller than the Fae, and the glint of its blades looked like a tornado of steel.
She could barely make out the blur of Augrys’s head—she assumed that was the sole figure battling it. A shiver ran down her spine.
It didn’t look good. It was all the more reason to find August to warn him. They had to retreat now.
“We should move,” she said.
“Agreed.”
Movement on the left caught her eye. A swarm of rats surrounded a familiar head of white hair, and she inhaled sharply.
Leo swung his axe, decapitating many in a single swoop, but they were quickly replaced by those in the back.
Two handlers stood nearby, summoning more.
Leo sent a spell toward them, but they deflected it with ease. He was vastly outnumbered.
“Do you see something?” Raf asked.
She pointed at Leo. “My friend needs help. Can I borrow your bow?”
Raf peered that way, handing his bow and arrows to her without hesitation. “You’re friends with Leo?”
“Long story,” she replied, her focus on the skirmish.
Yareli had an arrow nocked before she knew it. Leo kept up with the horde, but he wasn’t gaining any ground. He needed a helping hand, and she wasn't leaving the rooftop without giving it.
Determining the handlers’ summoning to be the issue, she pinpointed her target—the handler off to the right.
It had jumped away from one of Leo’s spells and raised its arms to cast. The handler wouldn’t expect an attack from its left.
She took a steadying breath. It was the furthest target she had ever attempted, but she didn’t necessarily have to hit.
All she had to do was distract the handler enough to create an opening. Still, she took aim and prayed.
Yareli released the arrow. It shot through the field, racing through the air like a missile, and sank into the handler's shoulder.
She relaxed her grip on her bow, feeling triumphant as Leo took notice and was quick to react.
He hacked a path toward it and beheaded the handler in a smooth strike before it could recover.
His head shot upward, and Yareli swore he could see her, but his attention was soon taken away, swept away in the renewed assault from the remaining handler.
Raf whistled. “Nice shot!”
Yareli smiled. Her training had paid off, but she didn’t have time to gloat. With Leo on an even playing ground, the sense of urgency to find August returned.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Raf had them stick to the backstreets, but Yareli kept her eyes peeled for any enemies.
A nearby building creaked and collapsed.
The deafening sound gave her pause. A blur of motion shot toward them, crashing into Raf.
He tumbled to the ground; his shield kept the rat’s snapping teeth away from his neck.
Yellow foam—a stark contrast to its vibrant, onyx teeth—drizzled out of its mouth, spraying Raf with its foul smell.
On the roof, the rats had looked small, half her height at most, but up close, this one was as high as her shoulder.
Raf grunted, and she sprang into action.
He was her way in; she couldn’t let him die.
She scooched behind the rat, eyeing its back. She stepped backward before taking off and pouncing onto the rat.
Yareli plunged her longer dagger into its thick neck, using it as an anchor as it bucked.
Raf cursed. The rat’s erratic movements pummeled into his shield, but it held.
At first, she struggled to do anything besides hold on.
Then, her grip slipped, and she yelled, swinging her free dagger toward the rat’s eye.
The bucking stopped as she aimed true. The rat fell onto its side, sliding off Raf’s shield, and she landed on her shoulder.
Pain bloomed on contact, but she rolled away before she was pinned under its weight.
She staggered to her feet and retrieved her daggers from the twitching rat.
“Step aside,” Raf instructed. Other than the foam dripping off his forehead, he looked unharmed.
Yareli moved behind him as he beheaded the rat in a single swing. Another kill, she noted quietly.
“That was a bold move.” he said.
“Yeah, well, I don’t really have strength going for me.” She rolled the shoulder she had landed on. Yep. It was going to bruise.
“Wits are just as important,” he said. “Come, let’s cut through here.”
She didn’t point out that wits couldn't save her from magic, and she followed him through another alley full of burning buildings.
The wreckage was worse closer to the center.
Fear mounted in her veins. She was the only one who knew of the worse fate that awaited them if they didn't flee.
They made a hard left, bursting into the village center, and she gasped. A familiar blue uniform drew her eye.
“Who’s that?” she asked Raf, even though the truth unraveled itself in her mind.
“That’s First General Augrys. Isn’t that who you were looking for?”
She made a sound of agreement—another lie—entranced by the scene before her. His uncanny speed matched the dancer, and sweat flew off of him like shining crystals. He blocked the dancer’s blades and struck back with his spear. It was a beautiful dance, one she realized she wasn’t invited to.
Because who the hell was Augrys?
The fight seemed equal for a few seconds, but the dancer conceded a few steps, sending a blast of magic at August. August shielded it with a swipe of his hand and shot a spell of his own—a bright white beam.
The dancer threw up a shield of its own, but the ray pierced through it as if it were paper.
It bellowed in pain and held its shoulder, oozing dark matter.
It retreated backward into the buildings, and August followed.
She moved; she couldn’t lose sight of him now.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Raf exclaimed.
“August,” she yelled.
August’s head whipped toward her, and she froze.
His hazel eyes blazed in the fire’s light.
His skin glistened with sweat, and she swore there was a glitter clinging to his skin.
His blue jacket was coated in red and black blood—a mosaic of violence.
He looked surreal in the moment, not a Fae, but a celestial being meant to be worshiped.
She was at a loss for words. How had she come to know someone so powerful?
The words came to her slowly.
“We need to retreat,” she said, but her voice was lost in the sounds of battle.
His mouth moved, and she struggled to make out what he was saying.
She started running toward him again.
“Retreat,” she yelled. “We need to leave!”
The dancer lunged from the shadows, its swords thrusting toward his back like a viper.
She shouted a warning, but August didn’t flinch.
A magic shield shot up, stopping the attack.
He glanced away from her for a moment, casting a spell at the dancer.
A light fell upon it, eviscerating it in an instant.
But August had never been the one in danger.
Someone snatched her, dragging her into a rift in the air.
The familiar tightness of shadowstepping constricted her, and she screamed.
August appeared in front of her, reaching toward her.
He was yelling her name, and although her mind screamed at her limbs to fight—to struggle—her body refused.
The blood in her veins went cold as a familiar, unpleasant magic touched her.
She had only ever experienced this once before.
It couldn’t be.
How had he found her?
“Hello, nuisance.”
His voice shattered her remaining denial, sending her careening over the cliff’s edge. The rift closed, August blinking out of existence as she fell through space and into her nightmare.