Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
CROFT
The sun was gone now, making it easy to see the glow of campfires and the twin lights of yellow magical light coming from the mage engine. From this distance, Croft could hear men at work. Shadow figures moved back and forth near the front of the track, laboring away to extend the railway to Azra.
Croft brought her unicorn to a full sprint. She looked behind her one last time. Her shifter army was with her, following only a few feet in her wake.
The sorceress channeled her magical wand into a lance of yellow magic. The lance started at her wand, but extended out in a line of yellow light, pointed at the end like a spear.
Shouts spread across the enemy camp while she was still a hundred yards away.
Dark figures ran from their tents, forming a perfect line in front of her charging shifters.
Of course, they were charging into a trap; the speed at which the New Hope guards were out of their tents had proven that.
Already they formed a wall of soldiers, three ranks deep.
Adrenaline raced through Croft’s body even faster than her white unicorn sprinted over the soft grass. Right before Croft collided with the first rank of New Hope soldiers, she confirmed what she had suspected: they were all vampire soldiers.
Croft’s unicorn took in the chest the unlucky soldier she first collided with, its razor sharp horn puncturing the vampire’s sternum and breaking through his back.
Croft’s magical lance eviscerated the head of the vampire to her right.
All around her, the noise of battle raged as the Azra shifters took on the New Hope vampires.
Croft maneuvered through the battlefield, transitioning her wand from a lance to a sword. She struck out as fast as she could on both the right and left side. Her weapon flashed in the dark. Everywhere she looked, black-clad, red-eyed vampires engaged in deadly struggles with the Azra shifters.
It was soon clear that only the most brutal wounds were capable of killing the vampires.
They healed quickly from any other kind of injury.
Croft severed a vampire’s arm, only to see him get back up and attack her again a moment later.
They were strong, but speed was their true weapon.
Their razor-sharp teeth and claw-like hands were raking through her shifters like scythes through grass.
Croft was tackled from her mount by two vampires who struck her from behind.
The air was knocked out of Croft’s lungs as she was still trying to figure out what had happened.
The hard ground bruised her ribs. Her vision blurred for a moment as the sound of her unicorn’s screams tore through the rest of the noise a moment later.
She was just fast enough to regain her feet to strike out and cleave the first vampire in two. The second vampire was tearing out the throat of the unicorn.
“Hey!” Croft screamed to grab its attention. The vampire turned around just in time to receive Croft’s yellow sword through its mouth and out the back of its skull. “Heal from that!”
Croft had a moment to survey the battlefield. The fight had spread into the tent city, right up to the mage engine. Croft could finally make out the shape of the face on the front of the machine. It was a wolf. A yellow-eyed monster. Croft understood at once what was about to happen.
“Back! Regroup!” Croft shouted at her guards.
She was too late. At once, the steel container being dragged along by the mage engine opened. Both long walls on either side of the container fell away, crashing against the ground with impunity. Elizabeth exited the compartment, along with a pack of crazed white-and-brown werewolves.
As large as her biggest shifter, the werewolves were faster and possessed near impenetrable skin.
She knew this due to her experimentation on Aareth.
Ten werewolves raced toward the battlefield, howling madness as their blood craze consumed them.
Each beast wore a collar Croft had never seen before.
But the way they glowed a dull yellow, Croft understood what they must be: the animals were being controlled by magic.
All of this she took in in the space of a few seconds. She would have to trust that Sloan and her reserve unit could at least hold them off for the time being. As much as she wanted to help, her youngest daughter needed her the most.
Croft said a silent prayer as she maneuvered around the pack of snarling werewolves. Elizabeth wasn’t far behind the animals. Her red hair was pulled back and she floated forward, striking out with her own wand that shot yellow beams of light at the shifters.
“Elizabeth!” Croft caught a werewolf with a spell and flung it high into the air. It disappeared a moment later in the dark. “Elizabeth, it’s me, your mother! Stop this!”
Elizabeth was only a small girl when Croft had left, but as soon as her head turned toward Croft, recognition glazed over her bloodshot eyes.
“You!” Elizabeth was immobile for a moment, stuck somewhere between disbelief and anger. “You left us!”
Croft closed the distance between her and her daughter. All around, the battle raged between the factions of New Hope and Azra, but Croft could only focus on one thing at a time. It seemed no one else was eager to disturb the waging sorceresses as a circle opened for them on the battlefield.
“Whatever Leah taught you”—Croft held up her hand, ready but unwilling to strike the first blow—“whatever you’re feeling, I can help. I can explain everything. I can?—”
“Why is everyone always trying to help me?” Elizabeth shrugged off her black cloak, revealing a black uniform with grey steel armor pieces covering her torso and forearms. In the center of her breastplate was a black bat. “You left us. You should be worried about helping yourself!”
Elizabeth hurled a series of attacks at Croft, each spell more sinister than the next. Croft blocked them all, and every time she did so, loud cracks like gunshots shattered the air around them.
Elizabeth first stalked forward, sending bolts of yellow magic, then trying a long yellow whip that reached out from the end of her wand. When that didn’t work, she shot a solid beam of magical energy at Croft.
Instead of meeting the beam, Croft caught the power, slowly releasing the magic until it dispersed.
Elizabeth’s attack was ferocious, but not well planned.
Her daughter was using anger and rage as a motivator.
Croft danced around her daughter’s attacks, blocking where she had to, avoiding where she could.
Mother and daughter performed a deadly dance, each unwilling to surrender for very different reasons.
“I hate you!” Elizabeth screamed when none of her attacks broke through Croft’s defenses. “I hate you for leaving us!”
Elizabeth’s words were doing more pain to Croft than her attacks ever could. Mostly because her daughter was right, and Croft couldn’t blame her.
“I’m so sorry.” Croft resisted the spell Elizabeth was trying to use to lift her off the ground and throw her across the battlefield.
Croft was beginning to feel the first signs of a headache, the signal telling her that her mind was becoming weak from her use of magic.
She needed to finish this confrontation soon.
Croft rushed forward, for the first time taking the offensive. Elizabeth’s eyes went wide with surprise for a moment before a devilish grin crossed her lips. Croft closed the distance between the two, leaving herself open for an attack.
Elizabeth waited for her until she was within arm’s reach. With one fluid movement, she activated her wand, extending it into a staff. At the same moment she channeled a magical yellow tip on the edge of the staff. It hit Croft in the left shoulder as she approached.
Pain lanced through her shoulder, white hot magical pain that made her grit her teeth to hold back a scream. Croft struck with her right fist, catching Elizabeth with a vicious uppercut she prayed wouldn’t shatter her daughter’s jaw.
Elizabeth crumpled. Her wand fell to the ground, dislodging itself from Croft’s arm. Immediately, Croft knelt next to her daughter, feeling for a pulse before lifting her off the ground.
Pain from her shoulder accompanied a heavy flow of dark blood. Her wound was an afterthought compared to her daughter.
She cuddled her as she carried her still figure. All around, the New Hope werewolves wearing the steel collars laced with yellow magical light ceased their manic struggle. Instead of tearing at whatever was in front of them, they took off in every direction, confused, looking for an escape.
The vampire soldiers who were left, witnessing their witch and their werewolves dismantled, decided to retreat on their own.
Everywhere on the battlefield, the Azra force gave chase. Croft couldn’t care less if they were caught or not. She hugged her daughter, close carrying Elizabeth away from the conflict and any further danger.
Abigail came running to her from the fray, two white mage swords in her hands. She was bleeding from a cut high on her scalp. The left side of her face was covered in blood and sweat. “Is she okay?”
“She’s going to be fine.” Croft motioned with her head to her eldest daughter. “We need to get her back to Azra. We can rehabilitate her, but it’ll take time to undo the damage.”
Sloan ran up to the three women. She was covered in blood that didn’t belong to her. Her red mage sword was already sheathed at her side. Her eyes were red, and two fangs sprouted from her mouth.
“Theo’s injured, but he’ll be fine. We need orders.” Sloan looked to Croft, obeying the chain of command. “Continue to pursue?”
“No.” Croft’s thoughts went to the weight this first conflict carried. “We won the first battle, but its time to regroup and prepare for the war.”
END BOOK 4