Chapter Seventy-Seven
Eldrick
The smell of rain barreled in from the western coast. An unnatural cold hung in the air. Not the chill of winter like in the Vadon Mountains, but an emptiness. Eldrick’s wolf wrestled inside his blood. He inhaled, exhaled. Something lay in the land of Torren, and it left him wary.
“To think Kade and Evelyn fell in love in such a wet and miserable place,” Bétar muttered as he drew his hood closer to his face.
“It has its charm some days, too,” Tovi said from ahead.
The vampyr queen hadn’t bothered to use her hood. Rain soaked her white-as-snow braid, and her determined brow gleamed. The sword strapped to her back matched the purple undertones of the bulbous clouds blooming overhead.
Beside her, Yennifer scanned the hills dotted with jagged rock. Linx rode in an unusual silence, pink brows pinched as her golden eyes swam with deep thought.
They’d parted ways with Kade, Evelyn, and Blair, who’d headed to the Gray Wood while Lorkan had remained behind, keeping an eye on the coastal town in case Riven arrived by ship.
There was still no telling if Ingrid would use a danu to travel from continent to continent.
Kade was certain she’d been on the ship when Evelyn was captured in Callum, but if the dark witch had touched the ground was still a mystery.
Eldrick sent a small prayer to the Moon God—that they’d beat Riven and Ingrid to Lake Glenn and if they faced him, that their small party of five was enough.
Ahead, a wagon pulled by a mule shook as it trudged through the muddy path. The farmer manning the reins didn’t stop as he said, “Aye, I’d turn back if I were you all. Something strange is brewing at the lake. Rain doesn’t help either.”
Tovi and Eldrick’s gazes snapped to the other. The thread didn’t pull taunt, but a knowing passed between them.
They had to hurry.
Eldrick clicked his tongue, urging his horse to move quicker, and the others followed.
The muddy path turned rockier as they headed east. Thunder rolled across the gray sky, and the occasional streak of lightning flashed across the sheets of rain, making the water droplets glisten like a million sparkling gems.
Soon, the path became too difficult for the horses to carry them.
They all dismounted and released their beasts back west. Eldrick and the others continued on foot, following one after the other in a uniform line.
The hills converged closer and closer, until they trekked through a canyon filled with pebbles and patches of moss.
At some sections, Eldrick’s shoulders brushed against the stony walls. He hovered his hand over the hilt of his axe, his inner wolf unsettled from the unfamiliar and tight terrain.
Ahead, the peaks of ancient mountains reached to the wispy edges of the storm clouds. The scent of stale murky water tickled his nose, and Eldrick’s wolf rose to the surface.
Linx halted beside him. “Did you hear that?”
Everyone paused on the path. Eldrick closed his eyes, focusing on his werewolf’s sense of hearing, but he detected nothing over the howling wind, pattering rain, and distant thunder. He opened his eyes, finding Tovi’s stare almost pleading.
“What if he’s already come?” she asked.
“If Ingrid opened the gates to Hel, we’d know,” Eldrick said.
Yet, wariness clung to him like the mist soaking into his cloak.
A boom echoed north, and they all whirled.
“Look out!” Linx shouted, pushing Eldrick away.
He knocked into Bétar while Linx ushered Yennifer and Tovi up the path. Rocks trembled underneath Eldrick’s boots.
Tovi shouted his name.
But it was too late. Boulders three times the size of their horses tumbled down the north hill. Eldrick scrambled back, dragging Bétar with him, as the avalanche headed toward the path. The descending rocks boomed across the mountains, joining the drumming thunder.
The last thing Eldrick saw on the path was Tovi’s wide-eyed stare. The boulders came to a standstill on the path, separating him and Bétar from the others.
“Tovi!” Eldrick rushed to the wall of piled rocks, pulling smaller ones free. “Can you hear me?”
Eldrick’s ears rang with panic. His inner wolf roared in his blood. He had to get to her. Now.
“I’m here!” Tovi’s voice grew louder as Eldrick tugged a rock lose, revealing a gap between the rocks just small enough he spied her jade eyes and the freckles across her nose.
Bétar cursed as he tried to move one of the boulders. “They’re far too big to move, and it’s too tall to climb.”
“We have to figure something out,” Eldrick said through gritted teeth.
“No, you and Bétar need to reach Lake Glenn,” Tovi said.
Eldrick balked. “I can’t leave you.”
She sighed on the other side. “If Riven and Ingrid are there, they need to be stopped. Sorin—this world—depends on it.”
What Tovi didn’t say out loud blared through Eldrick’s mind. She was guiding him to choose their mission and not her. It left Eldrick sick to his stomach, but she was right. Eldrick fisted his hands at his side.
“We will find another way to meet you there, but Eldrick, you must go,” Tovi said.
“Okay,” he said and nothing more.
It wasn’t the place or time for pretty words.
With haste, Eldrick and Bétar continued east on the path despite every fiber in Eldrick’s being raging to return to the woman he loved.
They reached a cluster of trees, and Bétar cursed, dragging Eldrick behind one for cover.
Below, lit black candles surrounded Ingrid as she stood with arms outstretched over Lake Glenn.
Fog glided over the water, concealing its watery surface as rain spilled from dark clouds.
It lapsed over the shores, wetting Ingrid’s boots.
The witch didn’t falter.
Even at this distance, Eldrick spotted the red running from Ingrid’s nose. An eerie sound beat from the skies, but Eldrick wasn’t certain if it was thunder or drums. The methodical tempo locked into his knees and matched his heart’s pounding cadence.
“We need to stop her,” he breathed.
Bétar grunted, and Eldrick followed his line of sight.
Riven, no longer dressed in silver or sword of ancients strapped to his back but adorned in an embroidered vest and trousers, stood with arms crossed.
Waiting. Seething. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and perhaps it was a trick of the light, but his eyes appeared red not jade.
A dozen Drystan Castle guards flanked his side, watchful of the tree line on the north shore.
Eldrick headed west, Bétar at his heels.
They hid from rock to rock, and fell into the thin tree line on silent feet.
By some god-given miracle, the winds blew in their direction, drawing their scent away from their foe.
Eldrick found a squat pine to hide behind and grasped hold of his axe. For Sorin. For his people. For Tovi. He chanted his reasons to himself.
Bétar tilted his head towards him, and Eldrick nodded once.
Now.
The Commander drove his heel into a fallen branch, the snap just loud enough over the lake swirling with dark magic. Guards averted their attention in their direction, and Eldrick fell deeper out of sight as three entered the trees to check on the disturbance.
Eldrick’s breath bloomed in the frigid air, and he held out his hand and pressed a sharp tip of his axe into his forefinger, nicking his flesh. Blood beaded to the surface, and he ran it up the side of the tree trunk.
The soldiers stiffened. One hissed, and another quickened their gait. Eldrick inhaled, easing his heart to slow. Bétar winked across the way, and Eldrick’s grip tightened on his axe. He sniffed, the sharp lemony scent of the vampyr burning his nose.
The soldier turned, and Eldrick launched.
He grabbed him from the shoulder, sure to pull him out of view, and from the back, sliced the vampyr’s throat. The soldier dropped to his knees and crashed face-first into the ground.
To Eldrick’s right, a vampyr sprang ahead of him, baring his fangs, but Eldrick planted his axe’s blade in the soldier’s shoulder before his screech alerted the others. Beside him, Bétar lowered the third dead solider to the ground, laying him with the others without a sound.
“Let’s keep moving,” Eldrick whispered.
Bétar grunted a sound of agreement, and they eased closer to the lake’s shore, trailing from tree to tree. Tension thickened in the air, and Eldrick recognized the heady scent mingling with dark magic.
Death.
Riven shouted at the remaining soldiers.
Confusion washed across the shore, and Ingrid’s chanting turned to a bellow of deep-rooted pain in her wavering voice.
The fog crept from the lake and up and over the rocky shores, dissipating into the crooks and crannies of the surrounding mountains.
The water shifted from a gray to a gleaming black, like ink filled the lake instead of water.
More soldiers fell into the trees, but there was no time to be swift. Eldrick and Bétar charged, cutting down four more. Metal sang as it cut flesh, and Eldrick’s hands molded to the leather of his axe’s shaft, and he thrummed with beastly energy.
Eldrick and Bétar emerged from the shadows of the trees, and as rocks crunched under his boots, Riven whirled.
“Protect the witch!” he roared.
With eyes rolled back into her head and only the whites showing, Ingrid stared up at the sky as lit candles around her flickered in her winds.
Vampyrs charged, one with a sword and another with their inky talons released. Eldrick deflected the sword with his axe and ducked as talons reached an inch from his face.
Eldrick gritted his teeth and swung his axe upward. It hit true, lodging into his enemy’s stomach with a deafening crunch. He pulled his weapon free, and blood and entrails released onto the shore.
“You damn dog!” the other soldier screeched, driving his sword down.
In his rage, he left himself entirely open, and Eldrick lunged forward and pivoted, drawing his axe across the vampyr’s back, slicing through bone and flesh. Blood bloomed through his uniform, and as Eldrick stood to his full height, the dead solider dropped to the ground.
Ten soldiers remained, and Ingrid’s grasp on her magic held strong, shaking the earth. Above, clouds churned, and the air dropped to an alarming chill.
Ahead, Bétar fought a vampyr, sword against sword while another crept up behind the commander. Eldrick roared his friend’s name, but he was too far away, too slow to do anything. Vampyrs stood in his way, and Eldrick fought to reach his friend, blood running cold—
Something whistled in the air, followed by a distinct pop. An arrow quivered out of the vampyr’s eye, and he landed with a harsh thud on the ground, dead.
“Yennifer,” Bétar breathed, whirling to search the forest.
Yet the archer didn’t appear, but instead announced her presence with another arrow, killing Bétar’s second attacker.
Riven spun. “I smell you, dear sister! Show yourself.”
Tovi emerged from the trees, and Eldrick’s breath whooshed out of him at the sight of her. Her narrowed gaze was as sharp as the sword she held, glinting in the low light, and the emblem of a silver dove glistened on her breast plate.
Eldrick’s soul sang.
Her jade eyes landed on him, widening a fraction as her chest heaved, and then her attention snapped back to Riven.
The Verena twins launched at one another. Their swords clashed, and sparks flew with the intensity of Tovi and Riven’s blows.
Eldrick sprinted to Tovi’s side, and he relished in her nearness.
It was not the power of his alpha blood or wolf rising within him, but something deep within his heart.
Poised back-to-back, with gritted teeth, Eldrick didn’t protect Tovi, he fought with her.
They moved as one. Riven attacked left, Tovi blocked his blow and Eldrick struck, his axe clanging against the prince’s desperate attacks.
More vampyrs joined the fight, aiding Riven. They attacked in groves, more rushing from the trees. High-ranking soldiers rode atop horses, shouting commands and pointing their swords ahead.
“To the king!”
Arrows descended from the gray sky, killing some, but it was no use—they were outnumbered.
Yet, with two swords in hand, the Commander had transformed into a warrior splattered with blood, and Yen and Linx worked as a team to take down vampyr after vampyr. Eldrick fed off their valor and killed two more vampyrs, his axe dripping with blood.
A soldier atop a horse charged between them, bringing an empty horse with them.
“My king,” they shouted over the fray.
Riven seethed, snarling at Tovi. Haggard, thinner, and with bloodshot eyes, the male before him was a fraction of the vampyr Eldrick had encountered on the night of the Blood Moon.
“You’re a coward,” Tovi cried.
“Yet, I am winning. There will be no running from the darkness you so detest after today.” Riven mounted his horse and kicked the beast into action.
His soldiers followed, retreating.
“No,” Eldrick growled, rushing after them.
Tovi grasped his arm, yanking him back. “Let him go. Ingrid is our concern. We can’t let her succeed in opening the gates to Hel.”
An eerie chant carried on the wind in a language he’d never heard before.
It was not thunder he heard earlier but drums, and the haunting tempo resounding through Torren drove his inner wolf into overdrive.
His alpha power ached as he felt his distant homeland hurting, as if the dark magic Ingrid bore into their world scratched at his skin.
He charged towards the witch, axe at the ready, but something barreled into him from the side. Bodies rolled, and a heavy weight landed on his chest as his attacker climbed atop him.
Jade eyes. Snowy hair. The likeness to Tovi rocked through him, but the freckles across the bridge of Visha’s nose and the evil glinting in her stare gave her away.
She laughed and raised her taloned hand high, readying to strike. “Nothing will be sweeter than taking you away from her.”
Metal flashed above, and blood sprayed across Eldrick’s face. Time slowed, and Visha’s hand dropped to the ground next to his head.
Visha screeched, clutching her bloody stump to her chest and—
Tovi drove her sword straight into her sister’s heart.