Frost and Flame

by Showalter, Gena

  “How many statues are here?” the future queen asked. The cadence of her voice...so soft, so soothing.

  Bane’s beast went quiet, his head his own for the first time in centuries. A tidal wave of relief flooded him, drowning out the other female’s reply—the one named Vale.

  As he basked, he rolled her name through his mind. Nolalee. Princess Nolalee. Queen Nolalee...soon.

  Escape the ice and cart the Terran princess to safety. Kill a combatant named Zion, and claim his magic wand. Use the wand to heal my shoulder. Attend the next Assembly of Combatants, slay everyone. Perform Nolalee’s Blood Rite. Kill Aveline. Join Meredith.

  Why continue on? Never again would he allow himself to fall in love. He would not marry, or start a family. Would not give anyone authority over him. Would not serve another malicious queen.

  Obviously, time had not healed Bane’s inner wounds. Every day, the desire to mete revenge threw another log on the fires of his rage. Will take everything from Aveline, the way she took everything from me. He lived for no other purpose.

  The next assembly kicked off in three weeks. A mere three weeks until his plans and schemes came to fruition.

  Craaack.

  The noise came from his left, the warriors within his sight line awake and aware, exuding a feral kind of hope as they observed the newcomers.

  An unspoken question wafted through the air. What happens next?

  They’d all suffered, their bones and muscles constantly aching with fatigue, their blood like sludge. At some point, every warrior had died, only to revive and start the process again.

  Must fight my way free. Now! Nolalee and Vale had reinvigorated everyone’s determination to escape.

  For Bane, a five-inch gap separated flesh from frost. He’d often let the beast pour flames into his throat, so he could spit fire and melt the ice in front of his face. The action had done so much more, warm water drip, drip, dripping down to free parts of his body, too. Now, he could rock backward, ramming his shoulders into the ice, then push off his booted heels and ram the front of the ice.

  He winced as his level of pain jacked up. Like his inner wounds, the gash in his shoulder still hadn’t healed, the cut raw and angry, a symbol of his emotional state. Did he stop, though? No. Rock back—rock forward. Back, forward. Ram, ram.

  One of myriad cracks lengthened and widened, and he grinned, his heart thudding against his ribs. Closer than ever!

  Nolalee flitted about, going from pillar to pillar before stopping in front of Zion—the one who’d supposedly impregnated her with a glance. She traced a heart on Zion’s pillar, and every muscle in Bane’s body knotted.

  Why did she focus on the male? The enemy. If she bore an attraction to him...

  Unacceptable! Bane required her cooperation and loyalty.

  “We survived,” she said. Survived what? “We’re close to civilization, rescue a probability.”

  Rescue?

  He’d known the day she was born, had felt it deep in his bones. He’d known the day she reached adulthood and they established a link, weakening his ties to Aveline.

  Right now, he served both females. The moment he permanently aligned with Nolalee, pledging a blood oath to protect and obey her, his link to Aveline would dissolve completely. But Aveline would sense his loss. So, he could make no pledges until the bitch arrived to claim ownership of Terra.

  Bane pushed his voice into Nolalee’s head.

  —Return to me, princess.—

  A demand. To his shock, she obeyed—dragging her feet. She looked him over, whispering, “I know you’re real. At least, I think you are. Maybe. But I don’t know who or what you are, or why you keep talking inside my head. Just...tell me what’s going on. I want to help.”

  A command. A royal command. As a hybrid princess, she was powerful, yes, but too weak to fully control a warrior in his prime. After the Blood Rite, however...

  “Or don’t tell me,” she said, still whispering. “You’re probably a delusion. Yeah, definitely a delusion.”

  Shock had left her addled. Noted. He—

  Tingles erupted at the ends of his fingers, frozen nerve endings coming back to life. New, sharper pains shot up his arms, radiating through his torso and down his legs. Even his toes tingled.

  Hope warmed his blood and thawed his insides, adrenaline coursing to his muscles.

  Must get the princess to safety. As Bane continued to rock and ram his body backward and forward with more force, the width of the cracks increased, and his hope sharpened into anticipation. Rock. Ram.

  Any warriors outside the females’ sight lines fought their prisons, too. Those within their sight lines waited until the pair turned away, not wanting humans to know about the war, even now. They had no idea Bane communicated with Nolalee.

  The first to escape would decide her fate.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Vale asked. “We’ll have the celebration dinner of the year!”

  The two discussed folded napkins, middle fingers, fish and vomit before vanishing around the corner, leaving the “lady-boner figurines” behind, seemingly forgotten. Nolalee’s laugh drifted through the cavern, as sweet as a lullaby, and another growl rumbled in Bane’s chest. Before she vanished, she cast a final glance in Bane’s direction.

  Soon enough, she’ll lose that sweetness. Never forget. Ram, ram!

  Crackkkkk.

  Already knotted muscles drew tighter as Bane scanned one ice pillar after another. Same cracks, no change. Same cracks, no change. Same—Nope.

  He returned his gaze to the combatant who’d won four All Wars in his lifetime—Knox. There was a change. Thicker lines bisected his ice.

  Knox was a fierce competitor, ruthless, merciless, with no sense of compassion. If the bastard gained his freedom, Bane would be a major target, guaranteed. No telling what the male would do to Nolalee.

  Ram, ram.

  Crack.

  This time, a fissure sprouted over the pillar belonging to Zion, a three-time champion just as determined to take out Bane.

  Ram, ram, ram. Yes! New cracks spread. So close to freedom. The closest he’d ever come. Emboldened, he rolled back and lurched forward. Again. And again.

  Suddenly, large wedges of ice tumbled from Knox’s pillar, freeing his head and torso. As the male popped the bones in his neck and rotated his shoulders, breath misted in front of his face and rapture lit his features.

  Envy and fear consumed Bane. Hurry! He fought harder, ignoring every prickle of agony. RAM, RAM.

  The females must have heard the commotion. They returned in a rush, their shock and terror palpable.

  Urgency owned Bane. Get to Nolalee. Protect her, protect your vengeance.

  Knox pointed at the women and snapped, “You will stay put. Do not run.”

  “You’re talking. You’re talking, and you’re alive,” Vale babbled. “You’re alive, and you’re real.”

  Bane thought he picked up Nolalee’s thoughts.

  —Part of me knew they were real, but the other part of me was so sure I was wrong. Yes. I must be wrong, my delusion strong enough to affect Vale.—

  A crazed gleam entered her starry eyes. Voice rising several octaves, she said, “He’s not real. He’s just...not.” She clasped Vale’s hand, as if desperate for a lifeline. “Right? Hypothermia causes hallucinations. Right?”

  What had made her think she’d be better off without a real warrior at her side?

  Once again, Bane projected his voice into her head. —Run! The freeman is Knox, a dangerous killer. I will escape and find you.—

  She remained in place, her mouth floundering open and closed.

  Fury and fear collided inside him. He tried again. —Do you want to die, you foolish girl? Help me help you. Run!—

  Again, she remained in place and worked her mouth. Had fright stol
en her wits?

  How was this girl going to defeat Aveline?

  Knox kicked away the final block of ice and stalked across the cavern, a dagger in each hand. The warrior’s target: the Rod of Clima.

  Erik the Widow Maker had left the weapon close yet beyond the assembly’s boundary, ensuring it remained active, summoning a continual snowfall. Even still, the past few years, the frost had started to melt on its own. Either the temperature outside had risen, or the weapon’s potency had dulled. Perhaps the females were responsible.

  Either way, Erik was the only one able to activate and deactivate the Rod, but everyone else could break it, removing it from the war.

  “We need to leave.” A pallid Vale tugged Nola toward the exit, insistent. “Now!”

  Her words spurred Knox to change directions. He strode to the females and reached out. Bane bellowed with rage, going silent only when the bastard caressed the blonde’s cheek, ignoring Nolalee.

  A look of utter bliss softened Knox’s overly harsh features. Vale’s eyes widened, black spilling over hazel. Nolalee gaped, tremors threatening to knock her off her feet.

  —Move away from Knox.—Again, Bane projected his voice into her head.

  She jolted, but she did not obey. He ground his teeth, fury giving his next forward ram more steam.

  Hanks of ice began to fall from Zion’s prison, not his.

  Urgency at an all time high, Bane settled the bulk of his weight on his heels and pushed up. Ram. Ram. Crrrrrrack. Finally, a huge chunk of ice toppled, freeing his upper half. Cool air kissed his face, a sensation as excruciating as it was euphoric. Oxygen filled his battered lungs as he inhaled; the sweet scent of honeysuckle stung his nostrils.

  Hate honeysuckle! But, underneath the despised fragrance, he detected notes of lavender and jasmine, the luscious blend turning his blood to flame.

  He punted the final barricade, his legs screaming in protest. As he took a step, then another and another, he marveled. He was walking. After being stationary for centuries, he had mobility.

  A new man with an old purpose, he charged for Nolalee. She had paled, panic setting in, her starry gaze darting wildly.

  When her gaze landed on Bane, she mouthed, “Help.”

  Yes! But, just before he reached her, other combatants escaped captivity and leaped into action. Chaos erupted in every direction. Bloodthirsty warriors moved between Bane and his princess. Emberelle, Petra, Ronan, Slade and Ranger.

  Swords swung, and daggers plunged. A glowing whip lashed out. An arrow soared past. Blood sprayed, grunts and groans ringing out.

  His fury skyrocketed to new heights. The combatants endangered the princess!

  Bane considered grabbing Nolalee and portaling to his mountain lair. Simply carrying her away would be foolish. There were too many warriors, with too many weapons able to injure her in the process. Plus, a portal would remain open for an entire minute, allowing others to follow them through. And, considering how much time had passed, someone could have found the lair and set traps.

  There was only one solution. He had to exit the cavern through the only door. To exit through the door, he had to fight. To decrease the odds of Nolalee getting injured during the fight, he had to first thin the herd.

  Very well. Mission accepted.

  He told her, —Press yourself into the corner. The walls will guard your flank while I clear a path for us.—

  She stood there, rooted in place, her arms wrapped around her middle, gaze still darting. Searching for him?

  —Nolalee! You will obey me.—He quickened his pace, ducking when he needed to duck, blocking when he needed to block, but always moving forward. An enemy lunged into his path. With a war cry, Bane grabbed him by the throat, snapped his spine and tossed his limp body aside, maintaining a clear view of Knox, who had just shoved Vale into a corner.

  The pale-haired female shouted, “Nola!” Just Nola, not Nolalee? Very well.

  Knox pushed Nola into the corner, and propped a big block of ice in front of them to fashion a barrier. Knox then used his supernatural ability to control shadows, causing sheets of darkness to rise from the ground like ghosts, and hide both females. He protected the females? Shocking.

  Bane roared. He needed to see Nola, needed to assure himself she remained unharmed.

  He picked up speed, barreling into anyone foolish enough to get in his way. Bodies fell. Just as he reached Nola’s corner, breathing in her wonderful scent, the combatant Orion crashed into him, knocking him to the ground. As they rolled, Orion swung a pair of motorized axes.

  Bane latched on to the male’s wrist and jerked, the ax slicing through his elbow, the lower half of the arm detaching. With his free hand, Bane ripped out his trachea, silencing a scream of anguish. His go-to move.

  Orion slumped over, warm blood spurting from the new hole in his neck.

  The desire to kill proved strong, but Bane resisted temptation. In a situation like this, many warriors could, and would, die. If the All War ended tonight, before he’d had a chance to prepare Nola...

  No! He would stick to the plan, and keep the war going for another three weeks.

  He stood, just as Emberelle lunged at him. Using Orion’s severed arm as a club, he sent her stumbling back, then rushed to Nola’s corner...

  Damn it! The ice and shadows remained undisturbed, but she was long gone, her scent faded. No sign of Vale, either. Where had they—

  There! Thorn, the combatant who wielded a glowing whip, clasped Nola’s ankle and dragged her toward the exit, unaware another warrior approached, gliding through the air thanks to a pair of winged boots—Ranger—a sword raised and ready, aimed at Nola’s vulnerable throat.

  “No!” Bane blazed across the cavern. Come on, come on. Panic hammered at him, his blood flash-freezing. He wasn’t going to reach her in time.

  Zion caught Ranger’s sword midair, the blade shattering, no match for his metal glove, saving Nola’s life. A new tide of relief flooded Bane, only to evaporate when Zion knocked out Ranger, gathered her close and bolted.

  She fought him, a veritable wildcat, but she didn’t win her freedom until Ronan challenged Zion, claiming his full attention.

  But Nola didn’t bolt, as Bane expected. She stood in place and spun, her eyes wide, her cheeks pale, shouting, “Vale?”

  Keeping her within his sight line, he targeted any combatant foolish enough to approach her, snapping necks and ripping out spines. Did she notice? No. Annoyance scraped his chest raw. He—

  Shouted a curse. The combatant named Petra had just twirled past him, stabbing the tip of her sword through his left foot. Excruciating pain exploded inside him, but he knew the worst was yet to come. Her sword possessed an insidious skill he abhorred. Whatever the blade touched, it could recreate, causing a tower to grow in its place. Since the tip had gone through muscle and bone, hitting ice, a tower of ice grew around his foot—over his foot—quickly forming a waist-high wall.

  Pinned in place. Every bone from his toes to his ankle had been crushed into powder.

  And Petra wasn’t done. She returned, swinging the sword again—aiming for his throat. He ducked, the metal lodging in the wall of ice. Ignore the searing agony. He leaned his upper half over the ledge and punched her rib cage. Those ribs broke, as he’d hoped, the bone shards cutting into her heart. She clutched her chest and stumbled backward, slipped on a pool of blood and tripped over an unconscious body.

  Do not deliver the deathblow. Walk away.

  Nola, where was Nola? Bane scanned, finding her quickly. A warrior—Slade—shook a trident in front of her face and shouted, “Where is he?”

  Who was “he”? Erik? Bane beat and kicked at the ice wall with all his strength. Stars winked through his vision, and fresh rivers of blood poured from his wounds. “Hurt her, and I’ll make you regret it,” he snarled. Get to her. Must get to her.

 
Slade paid him no heed. “Where is he?”

  With a shriek, Vale raced over and leaped onto Slade’s back, reaching around to hammer her fists into his eyes. But her punches had no effect.

  Can’t get to Nola until I get free. Think, think!

  Bane watched as Knox slid across the distance, swung a sword up, up, and sliced through Slade’s wrist. The hand and the trident plopped to the ground. No time to rejoice. End one battle, and another started. At least Nola remained safe—for the moment.

  But all too soon, the world began to fade in and out. Stay awake and aware. Fight! Get to her, damn you.

  “You’re coming with me.” As Knox dragged Vale away, she struggled against his hold, desperately trying to return to Nola.

  Zion snatched up the princess, once again hefting her against his chest, then motoring forward, plowing into Knox and making a play for Vale. That piece of shit thinks to abscond with both women?

  When Ronan inserted himself in the middle of the clash, Nola was able to wiggle free of Zion, and Vale was able to strike at Knox. Freed at last, the two females sprinted from the chamber.

  Bane had seen no evidence of a wound, yet Nola limped, her face contorted with abject pain. Must follow her!

  The cavern shook from foundation to roof. Any moment, the walls would come tumbling down. Pinned as he was, Bane would be crushed. If a stray piece of ice were to cleave his head from his body...

  His vengeance would die with him.

  Allow Aveline to live a long and happy life? No!

  Battle paused as warriors fled. Bane bent down, stretched and twisted, grabbing hold of a discarded sword. No help for it. To save his life and reach Nola, he had to move from this spot. To move from this spot, he had to free his leg. To free his leg, he had to shatter the ice.

  He struck the wall again and again, and realized he was too weak to do any real damage. Very well. He would gain his freedom another way.