I could hear them grunting, some screaming in pain, as the entire section collapsed. We’d taken down at least two dozen of them, and they had plenty of work cut out for them, if they wanted to keep coming after us.
Rays of moonlight came down, like milky beams cutting through the thick rolls of dust that made it difficult to breathe. “This is it!” Patrik said, looking up.
A large hole had opened above, where his spell symbols had been. Where the tunnel had been. He climbed up first, as there were plenty of chunks of stone piled up to aid in the ascent. Hundurr scrambled after him, and I followed, with Avril and Heron right behind me.
We made it to the surface, welcoming the sight of a starry sky and two of Neraka’s moons shining overhead. I wheezed and coughed, eager to get the dust out of my system, doubling over. Heron fell on his back in the snow.
“Thank the Daughters,” he gasped, then laughed with pure, unadulterated joy. Avril dropped to her knees next to him, joining him in that brief moment of celebration.
I ran straight into Patrik’s arms and held him tight, my heart thudding as relief washed over me. “We did it,” I breathed, feeling his lips on the top of my head.
The moonlight brought out the white of Dhaxanian snow around us, with its pearlescent shimmers. The winds were still. The blizzards were gone. If not for the gaping hole behind us, one would’ve never guessed what had just happened—what we’d managed to escape.
“Oh, wow!” Dion’s familiar voice made me turn my head.
Twenty feet away, on the edge of the pine forest, sunk up to their knees in snow, were Dion and Alles, next to our indigo horses. They looked stunned and exhilarated at the same time, their cheeks red and their lips purple from the cold, despite the layers of fur with which they’d covered themselves.
I couldn’t even begin to describe how happy, how relieved I was to see the two of them—not to mention our indigo horses, our fastest tickets off Athelathan. But, as Avril had noted earlier, they weren’t alone. I counted ten more people right behind them, all Imen.
Avril and Heron got up to get a better look at them. Hundurr sniffed the air, cautious but curious. Then my gaze settled on a pair of pale green eyes. I’d seen them before. That heavy fur hood couldn’t deceive me for another minute. I felt my heart grow a couple of sizes in an instant, as I recognized her.
“Arrah!” I yelped.
She chuckled softly, and I ran toward her with my arms wide open, ready to give her the biggest bear hug she’d ever experienced.
Out of all the places in this crazy world, this was where we were meeting again.
Avril
Scarlett wrapped her arms around Arrah, who giggled in response.
“What are you doing here? How did you escape from Azure Heights? Are you okay? How’s your brother?” Scarlett launched her questions at Arrah while cupping the girl’s face as if she were trying to make sure that the Iman girl was really there, and not a figment of her imagination.
The other Imen smiled, watching the reunion while occasionally glancing at the sinkhole we’d left behind with Patrik’s spell. With hands resting on their sword hilts, they were ready to intervene if hostiles came through. It was only a matter of time.
“I fought my way out,” Arrah replied. “I crossed the Valley of Screams through another secret tunnel that the Maras knew nothing about and headed straight for Vesta’s village.”
“You know Vesta?” Scarlett gasped, her eyes wide with surprise.
It shouldn’t have come as a shock, though. Arrah was the only Iman that the Exiled Maras couldn’t control, and she knew everything that was going on with Neraka. She was bound to have frequent contact with the free people beyond the gorges.
“I do. So, when the elders told me what you were planning, I had to come get you before it was too late. I learned about the Dhaxanians’ alliance with the daemons from the Exiled Maras,” Arrah said. “I didn’t have a chance to tell anyone about it after I found out, and that was just a few days before you left. The Maras were keeping an eye on us. I couldn’t even speak to you freely until I got Demios out of there.”
“Well, as it stands right now, that alliance no longer exists,” I replied.
Arrah blinked several times, visibly confused.
“We spoke with the Dhaxanian prince,” Scarlett explained. “At first, he wanted to have us picked up by the daemons and taken to Infernis, which is why it took us this long to get back. But then Avril convinced him to join us. We’ve got the Dhaxanians on our side now.”
“That’s wonderful news!” Arrah smiled, then looked at me. “Well done. Most of us didn’t even know there were still Dhaxanians left out here in the wild. I’d initially thought they’d all died out, and, if there were any still breathing, they were most likely daemon chow. Clearly, they’re still kicking.”
“What happened there?” Dion asked, pointing at the sinkhole.
“Ah, that brings us to part two of our Dhaxanian problem,” I replied. “You see, we did manage to convince Nevis, the Dhaxanian prince, to help us, but it happened just as the daemons were coming in to pick us up. Also, Nevis decided to be a jerk and put us through a test to prove ourselves worthy of his support.”
“Wait. What do you mean by ‘test’?” Alles interjected, though the concerned look on his face told me he already had an idea as to where this conversation was going.
“He gave us a five-minute head start, then let the daemons come after us through the tunnel,” I muttered, watching the color drain from the Imen’s faces.
“Oh, crap,” Arrah breathed.
“Upside is he pointed us toward Dion and Alles,” I replied with a shrug, looking for the brighter side of our situation. “There are two tunnels below, meeting in a crossroad right underneath the mountain and connecting four daemon cities, including Infernis and Draconis.”
“Yeah, I know,” Arrah replied. “Which is why we took the liberty to rig the area with some proprietary blends of explosives, in case we had to go into the mountain and get you out through one of the tunnels. I mean, that was the plan, anyway, after Dion and Alles told us you had yet to return.”
“You still haven’t explained that,” Dion said, pointing at the sinkhole again.
“We had to collapse the tunnel in order to get to the surface, and you. We took out at least one or two dozen daemons in the process, but there are still plenty of them down there as we speak, clawing their way out,” Patrik replied.
“How many do you estimate?” Arrah asked, her brow furrowed.
“At least another hundred and fifty, maybe more,” I said. “They’re led by Cason. If he’s still alive, that is. He was one of the first to fall in the collapse.”
Arrah exhaled sharply, her eyes glassy. “Good grief,” she managed, then switched her attention to one of the Imen standing next to her. “Get it all ready. Light it all up.”
The Iman nodded, then grabbed a torch from one of his companions and walked several yards up the snowy ridge. He pulled out several brown wires. I immediately recognized them as fuses. He looked up at us before lighting them up.
“Two minutes!” he shouted.
Just in time, I realized, as the stench of daemon was beginning to permeate through the snow. They were a resilient bunch of bastards. I had to give credit where it was due. Soon enough, they were going to pierce through the collapsed tunnel section and spill onto the surface, looking for us. We sure as hell did not want to be here when that happened.
“Out of all the daemon princes, you got the single most insufferable of them all,” Arrah muttered, then motioned for her Imen to get on their horses, while Dion and Alles brought our indigo stallions forward.
“You know Cason?” I asked, getting in the saddle.
“Yeah, he paid Rowan a visit once on behalf of his father. It was an awkward meeting to say the least,” Arrah replied, shaking her head slowly, then clicked her teeth, prompting the horse to move. “Now, come on, follow me. We’ve left a fake trail toward the edg
e of Lagerith Plains for potential hostiles. It’ll take them off the path you took here, but it’s not safe to go around that side just yet, either.”
With Scarlett, Heron, and Patrik on horseback, and Hundurr by our side, we were ready to go. Arrah took the lead, and we followed her, galloping down the last two hundred yards of the mountain base.
“Where are we going, then?” I asked.
We reached the bottom of Athelathan and made a sharp turn to the left, going around the mountain and away from the path back into Lagerith.
“There’s a remote cabin over on the north side of the mountain, far from the tunnels and out of sight,” Arrah replied. “We’ll need to lie low for a while, at least until dawn, and that cabin will be perfect for that. The daemons who survive what comes next will be circling the mountain and following the fake trail we left for them, too. Once the coast is clear, we’ll head back to Ragnar Peak.”
The first bang tore through the night, just as Heron and I briefly glanced at each other. Our horses neighed, and we nudged them with our heels to get them to go faster. Fortunately, that wasn’t a problem for the unnaturally fast equine creatures.
“There we go.” Arrah grinned. “Cue the second…”
The second explosion made the ground beneath us shake. The shockwave traveled for the whole two hundred yards that we’d already put between us and the sinkhole. It brushed against us before it fizzled out into a gust of cold wind.
“Perfect timing?” I muttered, glancing over my shoulder.
The view took my breath away. Beyond the snowy ridge and black silhouettes of pine trees, flashes of bright orange illuminated the area, as flames licked at the night sky. Black smoke billowed, spreading and obscuring the blanket of stars, while we got farther away.
“Absolutely. And here comes the third,” said Arrah, just as the third explosion thundered and shook the ground. Based on the noise level and the incoming whiffs of explosives, Arrah and the Imen had rigged a triangular area back where we’d come out from, with two of the hot points positioned on the slope.
If the first two didn’t keep the daemons underground, the third definitely would. The earth still trembled beneath us as we made our way toward the hidden cabin. Echoes of daemons growling and wailing trickled through the thick pine trees we left behind. The rumbling of at least half a mile’s worth of tunnel caving in sent shivers down my spine.
“Well done, Arrah!” Scarlett exclaimed as we shot through the dark woods covering the northeastern slope of the mountain.
“We had time to go over possible outcomes and prepare,” Arrah replied. “If you hadn’t come out when you did, we would’ve drilled a hole into the ground at dawn and worked our way up into Dhaxanian territory.”
“I’m afraid that would’ve been too late,” I replied. “We would’ve been gone by then, and not to a good place.”
And what great timing she’d had, to be there waiting for us just as we worked our way back to the surface. It felt as though the universe was trying to tell me something—that there was still hope. That this world, as wild and as restless as it was, wanted us to win this fight.
Back in our frosted restraints beneath the mountain, we’d gotten our first real taste of despair. Everything else we’d encountered before had been somewhat manageable. There had always been a way out—or a dragon to help us push back. This time, however, we had been on our own, completely trapped, with a powerful creature whom we needed more as an ally and never as an enemy.
I didn’t like feeling helpless. That was, by far, my main takeaway from that entire affair with the Dhaxanians. Under no circumstances was I ever going to allow myself or my loved ones to get backed into a corner like that again.
From now on, I’d be sharper. I’d anticipate betrayal from anyone and everyone. It didn’t mean I’d stop trusting people. On the contrary, we needed friends on Neraka, wherever we could get them. I just needed to make sure we had an exit strategy, in case friends turned into foes again.
We’d gotten burned once by the inhabitants of Azure Heights. No way that was happening again. At least with Nevis there had always been two possibilities: he would either help or betray us. Surprisingly, he’d started with the latter before coming to his senses and understanding that history would never favor a side that thrived by inflicting pain and torment on others.
The pure white snow around us reminded me of what we’d just accomplished. There weren’t many leaders left standing on Neraka, but we’d managed to get two on our side. Provided we got through the night, the next day was going to find us on our way back to Ragnar Peak.
As we went deeper into the woods, I found myself wondering what Harper and the others were doing. I found a sliver of additional comfort in the hope that they were also on track and at least in possession of the swamp witch’s location.
Fiona
After I split from the group and started advancing through Draconis, I took a couple of moments to get a better idea of the city itself. In my invisible form, I walked through the prison citadel, keeping to the more obscure corners of each street, exploring the alleyways, and catching snippets of conversations between daemon guards.
I steered clear of those I spotted red lenses on, but I could still hear their dismay. Most of them were beginning to sound worried about our presence. They also knew that Cayn and his grunts had failed to catch us once more and thought we were long gone. We’d run off with one of the Druids they’d been holding hostage for thousands of years, after all. That, in the eyes of many, from the bottom to the very top of the daemonic hierarchy, qualified as a colossal failure on their part.
There weren’t that many grunts out. I assumed that many were still searching for us around Kerentrith.
“They’ve sent Death Claws out to look for them,” one daemon said to his companion. “I heard the outsiders are incredibly fast, and they have the dragon with them. They can send a thousand Death Claws if they want. They’re useless out in the open against a dragon.”
“I’m telling you, one more failure on Prince Cayn’s part, and King Shaytan will slit his gullet with no regret,” the other replied.
If only. I left them behind and headed for Zane’s meranium cell box, gripping one of the three charmed skeleton keys in my hand. It was about time we got some inside knowledge from these creatures. Thankfully, despite his imprisonment and the torture of having his soul munched on, Laughlan was, by far, our greatest accomplishment on Neraka. For too long the Exiled Maras and daemons had gotten away with this bloody circus. It was about time we put an end to it, and leaving them without their most powerful supernatural prisoners was the best way to cripple them.
I made my way through the maze of private prison boxes, wishing I could just open each and every one of them. But I couldn’t make a scene. Not yet, anyway. Discretion was key for what I was about to do.
Zane’s cell was guarded by a single guard. He was larger than most, though. I had a feeling he’d be quite the handful in close combat. Looking back on my first encounters with the daemons, I remembered the crippling fear that had frozen the very blood in my veins whenever I caught a glimpse of their red eyes. I remembered gasping at the sight of the deep gashes that their claws left behind. They were vicious, strong, and fast. But they weren’t unbeatable. It had taken us a little while to figure that out.
After multiple encounters, however, the fear I’d first felt had subsided, and I was left with the concept of a hostile. They were all creatures that bled and died, just like the others. I still had my natural advantage there. Considering my strength, I could certainly hold my own, even against a larger daemon. I’d seen what their behemoth-sized generals could do, too. They were all force, though, and little skill. It seemed like the bigger they got, the more fatal their blows but the slower their moves.
The one standing outside Zane’s cell was most likely somewhere in between and required a stealthier approach. I slipped the key in my back pocket and snuck around the back of the box. Light on my feet
, I held my breath as I approached the guard from the back. His muscular frame was wrapped in thick leather, with metal plates covering his shoulders, chest, arms, and calves. Going for his sides would’ve injured him, but I needed him completely disabled.
I looked around. The narrow alleyway was clear, except for two guards who passed down the perpendicular road to our right. One of them was wearing a red lens. I took a couple of steps back to get out of sight and waited for them to pass. Once the coast was clear, I dashed forward and jumped on the daemon guard’s back. With one swift move, I slit his throat with one of my long knives and pulled him back.
He choked, blood gurgled from his open throat, and his knees gave out quickly. He didn’t even get a chance to fight. I dragged his body behind the meranium box and wiped my bloody blade on his leather tunic. It would be a while before someone found him there.
I sheathed my sword, went back to the front, and froze. A second daemon had just turned a corner—the changing of the guards. I moved back, giving the fiend some time to notice the fresh blood on the ground, then frown and look around. I clicked my teeth and lured him to the back, but stood still as he walked between the meranium boxes.
He heard my sword screeching as it left its sheath but didn’t get a chance to draw his. He caught a glimpse of my eyes as I rushed forward and rammed my blade upward through his neck and skull. His bones crunched, my sword piercing through the back of his head. I welcomed the zing of metal scratching against bone as I withdrew my weapon and slipped it back in its scabbard. Not that it came as a surprise, but I was still impressed by how little I was holding back in my bid to free Zane.
The daemon collapsed with a thud. I dropped his body on top of his colleague, behind the cell. I ran back to the front and used the skeleton key to let myself in. It worked smoothly. One twist, and the lock clicked open. I went in and quickly locked the door behind me.
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