Mist Rising

by Eve Langlais

  “I want nothing to do with you.”

  “I wish I could say the same.” He ground into her, and her breath hitched.

  “Not happening.”

  “Are you sure?” he teased, his breath hot against her lips. It wouldn’t take much to kiss him.

  “Last night was a one-time affair. It won’t happen again.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  She didn’t reply to that query, mostly because she wasn’t sure she could resist if he decided to seduce her. “Now that you’ve seen I’m not missing, you can leave.”

  “Are you sure you want me to go? I haven’t told you my news. I’ve asked the King if you can visit his library.”

  “And?” she asked, holding her breath.

  “He said no.”

  “What?” she exclaimed. “Why not?”

  “As he reminded me, only the Blessed are allowed inside. How would it look if he broke his own rules?”

  “Like he’s a man capable of changing with the times,” was her snarled reply.

  “He’s also not a dumb man. He knows you want to kill him.”

  Anger flared. “What did you say to him to make him believe that?”

  “Everything.”

  Her lips flattened. “You do know I am perfectly capable of detesting people without murdering them. Your continued existence is a prime example of my control.”

  Male arrogance shone in his chuckle. “As if you’d ever try. You know I’d best you.”

  It irked that he might be right. Not because she lacked skill but because he also had abilities along with the vitality that came with a younger body and the strength of a man much larger than she.

  “If I’m not a threat, I don’t see the problem. Or are you saying the King’s men are incompetent?”

  “More like the King would rather not provide a tempting target for your knife. But there is some good news. He has granted your other request. Books from the King’s library will be delivered for study. My understanding is that your friend already has one detailing our early history. In addition, the chief librarian is scheduled to pay a visit so that you can relay exactly what kind of texts you are looking for.”

  It wasn’t ideal because the book Agathe needed would likely be under lock and key or hidden. But she could hardly say that. This was a start, at least.

  “That sounds excellent. Thank you.” She ducked under his arm and moved away before she succumbed to his allure.

  “I have a better idea of how you can thank me,” he growled, reaching for her.

  She danced out of his attempted grip. “Sex for favors? I don’t think so. I only fornicate for fun.”

  His lips flattened, and his nostrils flared. “You’re not a whore.”

  “No, but I am a woman who has no issue indulging her needs. Surely you noticed my lack of virginity,” she mocked.

  “How many have you been with?” No mistaking the jealousy in the almost-shouted words.

  “Enough to know it’s none of your business.”

  His expression grew so taut she thought he might shatter. Then it smoothed and he said, “It is hard to keep count, isn’t it? Harder for me since I travel extensively, always seeing new faces. Sleeping in a different bed every night.”

  Bitterness hit her, hot and furious. She wanted to hurt someone. Him. The women he’d touched before her. Instead, she snapped, “Better hurry along, then. Wouldn’t want to keep the person warming your bed waiting.”

  She held open the door and waited.

  He stared at her, his expression flat. “Stay away from strangers.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  “Don’t test me.”

  “Or what? You’ll execute me? Throw me in a dungeon?” She knew she risked much by being intentionally antagonistic, and yet what simmered between them… It was fraught with too many emotions. Not to mention, she would betray him if it got her what she wanted. Maric might have started this stupid game of hot and cold, but she would end it by freezing him out.

  He stared at her, face impassive, fists clenched by his sides. “This isn’t over.” An ominous declaration to make.

  After he left, she half expected him to return. To once more kick open the door, draw her into his arms, and seduce away her protest. He didn’t.

  She had dinner with her Soraers and went to bed alone. Had a dream with him in it that might have been fulfilling if she’d not woken abruptly.

  Thud.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The noise didn’t repeat, and Agathe almost drifted off again when she heard it once more.

  Thud. It sounded close by.

  A grimace tugged her lips at the reminder of who had the room beside hers. Hiix and Baer were at it again. A theory dashed as the door between their rooms opened, and Hiix ran in, braids coming undone, nightdress slipping off one shoulder.

  “What was that noise?”

  “Not you, apparently,” Agathe stated, lighting a candle. Another thump came from overhead in the attic. Roof traveler or thief?

  Thump. Scratch. The commotion increased enough that she eyed the ceiling.

  “Get your hammer,” she suggested, following her own advice by slipping quickly into her leathers and arming herself.

  Hiix returned to Agathe’s room just as the closed shutters rattled. A breeze or something else?

  “Where’s Venna?” Agathe asked, wondering if she should check and see.

  “Right here.” Their Soraer, holding a candle, entered via the connecting door with rosy cheeks. The reason probably having a lot to do with the barmaid she’d been flirting with earlier. “What is happening on the roof?”

  “Sounds like something is trying to scratch through it.” Hiix glanced upward just as a thud hard enough to shake the ceiling sent dust sprinkling down.

  “Maybe it’s some roosting bats?” Venna offered with a doubtful lilt.

  Thump. Their eyes all went to the window. Rattle. Scritch. Something definitely pushed at the shutters.

  “I don’t suppose we know anything about the flying creatures in this area?” Agathe asked.

  “Birds and bats don’t peck at shutters to get inside.” Spoken with a frown by Hiix.

  Agathe’s dagger was in her hand without her realizing she’d even drawn it. “Only one way to find out what it is.” She reached for the latch holding the shutters.

  “Don’t be dumb.” Hiix slapped her hand. “We’ll head downstairs and see if we can spot what’s happening from the street.”

  The suggestion made sense, but before anyone could reply or move, the shutters rattled hard as something slammed into them. The old latch didn’t hold.

  A body hurtled through, a wiry shape sporting wings, horns, and claws. Not a bird. Or a bat.

  The monster’s windy arrival blew out the candle, leaving them in the dark. They could hear only the grunting breath of the creature, the scritch of claws on the floor, and the noise of more of them coming through the compromised window.

  There were two choices at this point: fight or…

  “Get out!” Agathe yelled.

  Hiix darted through the door to the hall, Venna on her heels. Agathe covered their retreat, the faint light from the corridor allowing her to see the monster before it struck. She slashed in the direction of its muzzle, causing it to hiss and recoil. Enough for her to slip out of the room and slam the portal shut.

  “We need to barricade the door,” Agathe huffed.

  “I don’t know if we can. It opens to the inside,” Hiix noted, pointing to the hinge and jamb.

  “A chair!” Venna exclaimed. “To wedge under the handle.”

  “Where are we going to get a chair?” Hiix argued as a door across the hall opened.

  A man emerged and gaped at them. “What is going on?” Maric’s spy for the night, evidenced by the fact that he remained fully dressed and wore a sword.

  A reply wasn’t needed, as the creatures slammed against the door they’d barely shut.

&nbs
p; Still, in case it wasn’t clear, Agathe held it closed and said, “Monsters.”

  “In the city?” He lost any hint of masculinity in his squealed surprise.

  “So much for your trenches, and I guess archers aren’t all that useful at night,” Hiix muttered. She gingerly let go of the door handle. “I don’t think they know how to open it.”

  “Just in case, we should block it. Do you have a chair in your room?”

  “No. Why?” The man appeared puzzled.

  Agathe didn’t have time to explain. “Maybe we can tie it off.”

  “With what?” Hiix asked.

  Agathe glanced around and landed on the man. “Give me your belt.”

  The fellow, with a wide forehead and crooked nose, glanced down. “I’m wearing it. And are you sure about the mons—” He never did finish that sentence. Didn’t have to because from behind, in his own room, a clawed paw suddenly swiped and drew blood.

  He bellowed. “Fucker!” He also whirled and, with a stave that, up until now, had been almost unnoticeable, pulverized the creature that had invaded his room. Only one of three. As the two others converged, he slammed the door shut.

  Over the thundering of bodies slamming against the doors, he shouted, “Where did they come from?”

  “The sky. And it seems like there’s quite a few of them.” Agathe could hear yelling from below as more rooms found themselves infested. “We need reinforcements. Where are the nearest soldiers?”

  The spy frowned, the oil-burning lamp in the hall just enough light to see basic details. “Not here. They’re either on the wall or in the Citadel. Fuck.” The spy watched the wooden door splinter as the monsters pounded it.

  “We can’t stay here,” Agathe declared. “Let’s get to the main floor and see if we can form a defense until someone alerts the guards.”

  Heading down the stairs, they encountered guests from the lower floors stumbling from their room, asking what’d happened. A few were bloody and shell-shocked. More ominous were the doors that remained closed, shaking in their frames as the monsters sought to get through them.

  The mayhem only increased as they made it to the lowest level. People converged, talking so loudly that it was only by chance that Agathe noticed a monster heading down the steps. She sliced it before it could do any damage, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

  It took only one declared, “The monsters are inside!” for pandemonium to strike. More than a few succumbed to idiocy, thinking that leaving the inn was a safer bet than hiding somewhere secure inside.

  Those that took to the streets? Their screams kept the folks on the decision fence inside, huddling in the bar’s main room, lit by more oil-filled lanterns.

  Venna shooed the wailing group to the back wall, the only one with no windows, before planting her hands on her hips and turning to Agathe and Hiix. “These people are useless.”

  “And that surprises you?” Hiix asked, not without sarcasm.

  “Don’t be too hard on them. We are in the city. Almost none of the citizens here have had to fight before,” the spy reminded as he took up a stance in front of the door that was being hammered. The shuttered windows rattled, as well.

  No way out, and the monsters were determined to come in. It would be a fine battle. A chance to show everyone what being a Soraer of the Shield truly meant. Then dealing with the dumb question after that everyone asked, Why don’t you have shields?

  Because a Soraer was a shield against the dark forces of the Abyss and needed both hands to fight.

  “For the Goddess,” Hiix said, spitting on her hammer.

  “For the Goddess.” Agathe and Venna repeated, and then they dropped into a formation they’d been using since they learned to fight together.

  The first monster came tumbling down the stairs to the screams of the citizens who noticed. It distracted the creature, and the Soraers of the Shield went to work, defending the people.

  Once the battle began, there was little time to spare for thought or anything but fighting for survival. Things moved lightning-fast and at the same time slowly, her body sliding into a rhythm that required no conscious thought other than fight and not die. The blades Agathe bore became an extension of herself, swinging and striking with a deadly accuracy honed over the years. The ichor she spilled the goal for each strike and one less monster to terrorize.

  The problem being there seemed to be a never-ending wave.

  The monsters that flowed down the stairs were after blood. A legion of winged beasts with sharp claws and teeth that wanted to kill. They reminded her of the bats in the crevices lining the cliffs. Except these were much, much larger and seeking blood, not bugs. More perversions from the Abyss?

  The Soraers put up a valiant battle with the help of the spy. He died when he moved away from the trio of Soraers, yelling and swinging his sword. They surrounded him and took him down.

  They tightened their formation, a shield holding off the monsters from those that remained, but Agathe knew they would be overwhelmed at any moment.

  Just as it seemed most hopeless, a shudder went through pretty much everything, noticeable enough the monsters all paused in their attack. A few even turned their heads.

  A light, bright enough to make all the edges of the windows and doors outside glow, erupted. Even inside, they heard the squeals of monsters caught in its brilliance. The ones within, too dumb to realize they were safer inside, began rushing back up the stairs. Agathe darted for the bolted door and threw it open, blinking at the brightness illuminating the road outside. The bat-things streamed out into it.

  “What is causing them to panic? Who’s making the light?” Hiix asked as she came to stand behind a weary Agathe.

  It was the innkeeper who joined them that said, “The King.”

  “Since when does the King come out to fight?” Agathe mused aloud. She’d never heard of it happening, not in these modern times.

  With the monsters fleeing the bright light, she emerged fully from the inn in time to see the monsters’ bodies lifting into the sky. So many pairs of wings, whipping the air hard enough to lift the strands of hair left loose.

  The streets were empty, and yet she could hear the sounds of fighting. The clashing of weapons, the shouts, the dying screams of monsters. A glance showed the fight appeared to be overhead, on the rooftops.

  So why was she on the ground? She went looking for the handhold she’d used earlier, only to have Hiix grab her and hiss, “What are you doing?”

  “The fight is up there.”

  “And it’s being handled. We need to clear the inn in case there are stragglers.”

  An argument parted her lips, but Hiix was right. The civilians inside needed their help. It was her duty, and she did it quickly, racing from room to room, those that she could enter, looking for any living monsters. She found two, which she dispatched. By the time the inn was declared cleared, and she’d made it to a rooftop, it was to see a few shapes flying away.

  The battle was over, but where was the King? She caught glimpses of silver armor as soldiers walked through the streets, looking for stray monsters.

  On a hunch, Agathe sped to the center of the city in time to see the drawbridge being raised. She’d missed the King.

  Annoyed at having lost a chance to see the mysterious man, she returned to the inn to find a scowling Xaav standing outside with Venna and Hiix.

  “You!” He pointed.

  “I’m fine, thanks for asking,” was her sarcastic reply.

  “Everywhere you go there’s trouble.”

  “You’re blaming me? I’m not the one who didn’t think to protect the city against flying monsters at night. You might want to invest in more lights on the roofs. Maybe a few archers,” she grumbled.

  “We’re aware of how we failed. It won’t happen again.” Xaav grimaced.

  “How lucky the King could help. I wasn’t aware he could fight.”

  “The King has always protected the people.”

  Had he? If so, h
e’d been subtle about it her entire life. “We’ll need to find a new inn, I think,” she said, eyeing the heavily damaged building.

  “Actually, the King has extended an invitation for the Soraers of the Shield to stay inside the Citadel as his guests.”

  “What?” Agathe thought for sure she’d misunderstood.

  “Congratulations, you are the first non-Blessed ever to be invited inside. Now, are you coming or not?” Xaav snapped.

  Thank you, Goddess. For surely, she’d had a hand in getting Agathe into the Citadel and one step closer to her goal.

  A goal that was no longer clear.

  Part III

  Discovery

  The Citadel has always been a part of the Valley. A stone spire that immediately served as home to the King. He rules firmly. Absolutely. And when he doesn’t?

  There’s nowhere else. No choice but the Abyss.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “Shall we?” Xaav, their escort, waited for the Soraers outside on the street.

  Agathe had only managed to sponge off the worst of the blood, dust, and dirt from her skin and clothes. The many rips in the items showed wounds cleaned and bound with strips of linen. More scars for the collection.

  At least she and her Soraers had survived the fight with the monsters. Hiix and Venna strolled ahead, arguing about everything like they always did.

  Dawn crested, and the suns shone on a city already awake. People stood on stoops, cradling steaming cups; others were in the streets and on the sidewalks, trading gossip. A few wielded mops and wheelbarrows as they cleaned up signs of the battle—gore and damage mostly. The bodies of the creatures were already gone. The citizens appeared excited and not nearly scared enough.

  Agathe’s lips thinned, and Xaav, keeping pace by her side, noticed. “Is something wrong?”

  “Why aren’t these people better prepared?” Last night, she’d been too adrenalized to notice the lack of aid from anyone in the inn.

  “It’s not their job to fight.”

  “That is the dumbest thing I’ve heard you say thus far.” She turned an incredulous look on him.