by Jack Porter
“What happened to her?” Nya led me out of the hall, and I filled her in as quickly as I could about what had occurred at the tower.
“She’s probably still there,” I said grimly. “I never saw her again.”
Nya nodded knowingly, like she was thinking what I was thinking—that the succubus hadn’t survived the blow at all, or the subsequent fall from the air.
We both headed toward Alayna’s tower, which still smoked from the wyrmfire that burned inside. I thought that if we could find Ilana quickly, we could then move on to helping anyone else who needed it, and finding out what happened to Syn. It all still seemed hopeless, even though I felt better than I ever had physically.
Before we reached the base of the tower, however, the elven horns sounded, clear and long and haunting.
“What does that mean?” I asked Nya.
The elf turned mid-step, listening. Then, she smiled. “It means,” she said, “that the Wraith King is retreating.”
59
Somehow, the Wraith King had discovered that his last wyrm had been killed. Arrogance had probably made him send the beast into the castle, but fear drove him out. None of us were sure how, but the Wraith King’s power was undoubtedly tied to the wyrms in some way.
“I hope he knows it was me,” I told Nya as we watched the last of the wraith army flee from the plain. We stood on the inner rampart protecting the keep, the ones that ran above the wall surrounding the keep and protected by the seven towers. What remained of the elven archers harried them the entire way, firing at their retreating ranks until the enemies were out of bowshot.
Nya turned to me. “You defeated both of the Wraith King’s wyrms. He’s not likely to forget you.” She looked at me shrewdly a long while, as if she thought I carried a secret of some sort.
“We’ve got to find Ilana,” I said finally, to break the silence. Now that the Wraith King was leaving in earnest, we had much work to do.
“I’m here,” a tired voice said.
Nya and I turned as one, both of us startled by the soft beat of wings as Ilana landed lightly behind us. She was bruised and covered in dirt and a few burns, but she was alive. I rushed to the succubus and grabbed her in my arms, holding her close to my heart. “I thought we’d lost you,” I whispered into her hair.
Ilana wrapped her arms around my waist. “And I thought I’d lost you, too, human, but when I didn’t feel the compulsion to return to the Wraith King’s lands, I knew that the bond was still there and that you were alive.”
Nya joined us and surprised us both by putting her arms around us so that we all stood in a huddle.
“Where were you?” I asked Ilana.
“I was knocked out,” Ilana said. “Woke up hanging over this very wall.”
“How did you survive that?” I asked.
She laughed, and I swear it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. “I’m a succubus. We’re tougher than we look.”
I pulled her to me and kissed her on the mouth. She was dirty and sweaty and covered in blood, but so was I, so it didn’t matter. When we pulled apart, I grabbed Nya’s arm and pulled her to me to repeat the kiss for her. She responded faster than I had expected, and we spent a few precious moments locked in each other’s embrace, kissing passionately.
Finally, I let go of my elf and my succubus. Only one other person was missing.
“We’ve got to find out what happened to Syn,” I said.
60
Despite the Wraith King’s best attempt, Blackhold Castle was badly damaged but not destroyed. Now that the elves could focus on clean up and not the battle, they were putting out the fires, using their own brand of spells to aid the water they dumped on them.
Because the invading army had entered the gates through subterfuge, the castle defenses were still intact. They had suffered some relatively minor damage from wyrmfire and pelting rocks, but nothing that would prevent the city from being closed up once again.
We found out through accounts that Syn had been taken prisoner even as the wraiths fled. Soldiers had seen her being carried away with the army, and at once, members of her old unit at the gates had tried to give chase. They had failed to catch up, however, but reported that the wraiths that held Syn captive had taken a few other elves, as well. Instead of turning south with the main Wraith King’s army, they had branched off soon after leaving the plain and headed north, away from the Black Mountains. Nya guessed that they were taking Syn and the others toward the Slavers’ Bowl, and was already preparing a rescue party.
I had filled in Nya and Ilana with a brief story about what had happened with the wyrm. Ilana had hugged me and held me for several minutes. Nya, however, had looked at me so shrewdly that I grew uncomfortable under her gaze. Both agreed that somehow, the wyrm’s magic had healed me.
As horses were being readied for the rescue party, Nya came to find me. I was standing with my mare, which had survived. I was grateful to see the beautiful animal, even though I couldn’t really claim her as mine. I thought of the courtyard that belonged to the Wraith King, and the portal that was contained within. Now that I was fully healed and in my right senses, I wondered if I had just been delusional with pain. But something told me that wasn’t the case, that it had been a vision, and that what I had seen had been real.
“Jon,” Nya said, handing me the reins to a different horse that was saddled. It didn’t have any provisions, however. I took the reins and gave her a puzzled look. “I need to show you something before we leave,” she said cryptically. “We will return before it’s time time to leave.”
She led me out through the postern once more, and we rode over the bridge and took the path the up the mountains. This time, her guard—what remained of it—did not accompany us. The air was still heavy with smoke and embers, but as we entered the forest, it seemed to clear.
At the broken Elfstone, we dismounted.
And then, without preamble, Nya began to speak. “The darkness of Hell shall be no more when the one who holds the necromancer’s power comes from a land unknown. When he challenges the Wraith King for the throne, the necromancer’s hold will end.”
“What does it mean?” I asked, although I had a suspicion.
“The elves believe there is one who is destined to overthrow the Wraith King. And to set the land right again.”
It is what she had told me before. “What does that have to do with me? Why are you showing me again? Why now?”
“Because I still believe the prophecy is about you, Jon. I always have, even when I said I didn’t.”
I raised both eyebrows in disbelief. “But you wanted me to leave.”
“I wanted you to be safe. I thought that by sending you away, I could do that. But I was wrong. Now, more than ever, I believe this prophecy has something to do with you. We’ve always wondered how the Wraith King stayed alive for so long,” she continued. “His dependence on the wyrms, and your regeneration, explains it. The wyrm blood may be keeping him alive. It seemed to have a positive effect on you. Already you look stronger, healthier than when you came to us.”
I frowned. “This is just circumstantial,” I said. “It could be any number of things. Why does it mean the prophecy is about me?”
“Because it says the one who overthrows the Wraith King will have the same power.”
“But this is crazy. I don’t have the same power as he does. I’m not a necromancer.”
Nya’s expression darkened. “Not yet.”
“Never,” I said vehemently. “Because I don’t want to do what he does. It’s dark magic, isn’t it? It’s horrible. All you have to do is see him for a moment to know that.”
“Yes, but we don’t know how the prophecy will work.” Nya sighed. “I’m afraid that’s all I know. Since the stone is broken, we will have to guess about anything else.”
“The stone may provide some clue that says it isn’t me, though, right?” I asked hopefully.
Nya looked at me wryly. “Maybe. You don’t want
to overthrow the Wraith King?”
“Of course I do! But not by myself.”
She outright smiled this time. “Who said you would be by yourself?”
61
An hour later, we joined the rescue party leaving the castle. I felt ill at ease, not the least because of the conversation I’d just had with Nya. Riding my mare through a new forested road that led north over the mountains, I thought that there had been some mistake. I had come from a different world. I didn’t even belong in Hell.
And yet, hadn’t the prophecy said the person would come from a land unknown? Although I definitely didn’t want the Wraith King’s throne. Nor did I want to become a necromancer like him.
Shit.
While I was busy determinedly not claiming ownership of the prophecy, Ilana was busy trying to get my attention. We’d had no alone time since the end of the battle, and I wanted her more than ever right now. Nya, too. And yet here we were riding away from comfort, safety, and security once again to pursue Syn and her captors.
Away from the Black Mountains, away from the Wraith King, and away from the portal, which still held my mind captive.
Still, Ilana was trying to make the best of it by humming softly and gazing at me with those intense eyes of hers. Those golden flecks held a promise, but I tried to ignore it. Otherwise, it would be a long, torturous journey if I couldn’t act on anything. We were trying to beat the slavers by going over the mountains and getting to the Slavers’ Bowl first.
Ilana, as always, seemed to know what I was thinking. “We’ll need to stop at some point to rest the horses,” she said in her low, seductive voice. “They can’t travel all night, much as we might want them to. And even wraith slavers need to rest occasionally, even if not as much as we do.” She leaned over closer to me. “There’s hope for us yet.”
I smiled, thinking of all the things I wanted to do to the succubus. Just the thought of Ilana made my cock twitch. She looked down at my crotch and smiled. “That’s right, Jon, and I hope you’re ready for company tonight, as well.”
My gaze shot to hers. She nodded to Nya, who rode ahead of us. “I believe she wants you, Jon,” Ilana said. “Wants us,” she corrected. “And we might find the perfect place tonight.”
Feeling buoyed by that thought, I rode the rest of the day with a lighter heart than I’d had in a week. Even though we had a daunting task ahead of us, and I still feared for Syn, the thought of spending the night making love to these two creatures was a welcome one.
“Until tonight, then,” I said, smiling. And then I thought of something. Double-checking, counting the number of days I had been in Hell, and assuming I hadn’t lost any somewhere along the way, I was reasonably certain…
“Hey,” I said. “It’s my birthday.”
End Wraith King
* * *
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About the Author
Jack Porter grew up reading fantasy. His current likes include Game of Thrones and Westworld, but he’ll check out any fantasy or science fiction, especially if it involves cool armor or swordplay.
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