Drawing in a deep breath, she only had time to shout, “The Queen –” before a skeletal hand reached out of the darkness and latched onto her shoulder.
She whirled, preparing to gouge whatever had hold of her. Her sword stopped mid-swing as she took in gaping black sockets where eyes used to be and a broken jaw that hung crookedly from one rotting hinge. A faded silk robe hung around the body, its fur brocade now matted with dust. The stench, like dead fish decaying in the sun, wrapped itself around her, and she gagged.
“Snow!” Caspar shouted between grunts, apparently locked in battle with something.
Snapping out of her surprise, she delivered a blow to the skull, smashing it in with the pommel of her sword. The skeleton released its hold and she staggered backward, trying to cough up her last few breaths. The smell of death was so strong she could hardly breathe.
More skeletons shuffled toward them from the darkness, the kings and queens of old awoken from the grave like macabre puppets.
The Queen knew we were coming, Natalia realized with a start. An even darker revelation chilled her: Who had told the Black Witch?
The clanking of bones reverberated throughout the chamber as the dwarves descended upon each skeleton like ants, knocking them to the ground or taking out their knees with a swing of their axes. Caspar grunted and kicked a skeleton square in the chest, sending it flying into a group that had almost been upon Wormwart, who was poised to take action.
Wormwart scowled at the prince. “Find yer own undead to fight!” Then he hurled himself headlong into a huddle of skeletons. Bones immediately began flying everywhere as he hacked and slashed at the zombies.
Caspar laughed and she glared at him. “This is nothing to jest at!” she shouted. “These are my ancestors, and you’re all tearing them to pieces like a band of savages!”
“That may be true, but right now they clearly want to hurt us!” Caspar walloped a skeleton – her great-great-great-great-grandfather, she thought, – right in the nose, caving in what was left of his face. He kicked the corpse in the chest and it collapsed into a pile of ash and bone. The rusted crown fell from its head, dropping to the ground. It rolled along on its side, at last clinking against the toe of Natalia’s boot before coming to rest on top of the remains of her ancestors.
Something inside her snapped as she stared at the crown. Her grip on the sword tightened, turning her knuckles white.
“How. Dare. You,” she hissed into the darkness. Her entire body shook with anger. Strands of sleeping power stirred in her blood, growing more restless the angrier she became. Particles of red light shimmered on her skin, burning brighter and brighter until the entire tomb was illuminated by her magic.
The sounds of the battle around her died away, leaving only a low hum in her ears. She closed her eyes, still able to somehow “see” the catacombs in her mind’s eye, only this time she could also see the threads of dark power twined around the limbs of the skeletons, as if animating them. Dark Magic radiated off the red threads; they disappeared up the staircase and beneath the door, which stood but a few feet from them.
“Catharsis,” she whispered.
At once the threads severed, oozing black ink before vanishing from sight altogether. The skeletons immediately fell to the floor, dead as they once were. Above it all a raven cawed, its call edged with anger.
All the magic flowing through her faded away in a rush, making her head spin.
“Easy there,” Caspar said, catching her as she staggered.
She shook her head, trying to clear the dizziness. “Is it over? Are the dead, well, dead now?”
“See for yourself.”
She stood, opening her eyes. Piles of bones littered the floor. She counted exactly five dwarves, a handful of men, and several centaurs and faeries who, for the most part, appeared completely unscathed.
They stared at her as if her hair were on fire.
She stared back. “What?”
Wormwart’s lips twisted up at the corner. “Now that was a display of power if I ever saw it. Imagine what yeh could do with more crystals…”
She shivered. “Nothing is worth losing your mind.”
She paused. Her magic had come willingly. All because she had been angry. Maybe I should channel my anger into a weapon.
Caspar laid a hand on her shoulder. “We should keep moving. The Queen certainly knows we’re here now.”
He began briskly walking. His hand slid down Natalia’s arm until he laced his fingers with hers, gently pulling her along. When he squeezed her hand, she squeezed back, feeling heat rise in her chest that had nothing to do with ancient magic.
A metallic grinding sound echoed toward them and everyone’s heads turned abruptly. They stared into the darkness and aimed their weapons at the unseen enemy. The air in the room seemed to grow thinner and the shadows that much darker as the light from the torches dimmed. Violet light grew in intensity at the far end of the hall, illuminating a tall, casket shaped black object. The purple haze shone upon metallic bolts and a slit in the black metal where the eyes would be. The outside was carved into the sculpture of a man caught in the throes of agony, his mouth open as if crying out in pain.
“She… promised,” a voice moaned right before the ground shuddered and the iron maiden swung open. Black liquid drained from it, spreading along the floor in an inky pool while the spikes lining the inside of the torture device still dripped with black blood. A figure staggered out, his arms clutched over his chest with at least fifty leaky holes all over his body from being impaled by the device.
Natalia blanched, tasting bile, but she quickly pushed it back down. “Who are you?” she called.
The figure’s head jerked toward the sound of her voice, the whites of his eyes wild with pain. His lips parted with a spurt of blood as he chuckled. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember me. You and I are old friends.”
Her brow furrowed. “Sir, I swear we have never met before.”
“You sure about that, mortal?”
There was something about his voice that tugged at her memories, but without the ability to see his face, it was impossible to distinguish who he was. “State your name,” she said.
He laughed again, coughing up blood and pieces of things she didn’t want to think about. “You and I are destined to be foes. I’ve seen your magic, have witnessed your army of fairy tales and legends. Once you become the Queen – the new Black Witch – then everyone will wish they had listened to me.”
That last jarred her memory. “You’re that man back at the waterfall,” she said, “the one who tried to convince the Thesperians to abandon the cause.”
“You’re only partially correct,” he said, voice trembling. His body had begun to shake violently, most likely from the shock of so many wounds and loss of blood. In a moment he would keel over. “But you’ve known me long before then.”
That strange yellow light – the same color she had seen at the cave – returned to his eyes, lighting them up like hellfire. She bit her lip, sifting through her memories. She knew someone else with eyes that color, someone who gave her chills and creeped her –
Her mouth formed an “O” and a gasp slipped out as she stared at the stranger. “Slither?”
Wormwart’s eyes immediately narrowed. “What are yeh talking about? That’s not him.”
A dark, sinister chuckle reverberated off the walls. “Do you not recognize me, brother? I suppose I cannot blame you. The form’s a bit different, but that’s what the wolf promised me: freedom from persecution for being what I was.”
Wormwart’s face paled, which frightened Natalia. He never paled to anyone or anything, but the look on his face as he stared at the man – Slither – was pure horror. “Slither, what have yeh done?”
A shudder rolled through the man and he pitched forward. His chin smacked on the ground and his eyes locked on them. Slapping a hand against the floor, he dug his fingers into the red carpet and pulled himself forward. “The wolf spoke inside
my head the night we found the Fey prince. He told me he sensed how lonely and lost I felt, so full of self-loathing, and that he could make it go away if I came with him.” He smiled. Blood stained his teeth, gathering in the slits. “What was I to do? When I met the Queen, she promised me a new life and a new body. Finally, I could be happy, could walk around without having to worry about something wanting to hurt me for being a dwarf. All I had to do was carry out her task.”
“She bribed you into turning the Thesperians against Snow,” Caspar said, glaring. “I’d wager you’re the one who also told her we were coming. You sold your soul to the Devil, and look what happened.”
“I am free,” he sang, pulling himself up. A bloody smear stretched behind him from where he had dragged himself across the rug.
“Did she do this to you?” Natalia asked, pointing to the iron maiden. “Did she lock you away in there as punishment for failing to stop us from entering the castle?”
“It was nothing I didn’t deserve,” he said wildly. “I gladly went, more than willing to pay for my sins against our goddess.”
“She is no goddess,” Wormwart spat. “She is a villain, a witch!”
“SHE IS A QUEEN!”
His voice boomed around the hall, so loud it hurt Natalia’s ears. The tone of his voice had taken on a desperate quality. “You don’t know who you’re up against,” he hissed. “She will kill you all, and I’ll finally have some new boots!”
An arrow flew past Natalia’s head, shooting straight for Slither. He smiled, right before it sailed into his forehead and he fell over backward, unblinking but still twitching.
They all turned. Natalia’s mouth dropped open in shock to find Leaf standing there, the string of his bow still vibrating from launching the arrow.
“Leaf –” Natalia started to say but a low gurgling sound came from Slither’s body. She looked around in time to see the pool of blood beneath the iron maiden start to boil. With a burst of purple power, it rose into the air, plummeting into the fallen body of the man who called himself Slither and wrapping him in a cocoon of black magic.
They tensed, readying their weapons. The cocoon rose high into the air, twirling and swelling until it at last burst. The liquid inside drizzled onto the ground as a larger, bulkier version of Slither – part man, part dwarf – hovered in the air, purple lightning crackling around his muscles. His eyes glowed violet then yellow as he glowered at them; his skin was as yellow as Slither’s had been, and he had pointed ears. Despite those otherworldly attributes, he still resembled a human man.
“I tried to warn you what you were up against,” he said, speaking with two sets of vocal cords. “But you never want to listen to old Slither.”
He extended his hands toward them, palms open, and the black goop whipped toward them like vicious worms. One went right for Natalia’s face, and she sidestepped it as it whooshed by, slashing it with the sword. It clung to the weapon, crawling up the blade toward her hands, and she dropped it, watching as it consumed the sword whole before latching onto a man’s foot. He looked down for only a second or two but it was too late. The black ink crawled up his leg as another vine snaked out of the darkness, looping around his neck. It opened up a mouth lined with tiny, sharp teeth before gulping down the screaming man.
Natalia gasped in shock and staggered back. Something lashed out at her knees and she went down backward, slamming painfully onto her back. Stars shot across her vision. By the time she realized what happened, the vine of ink that tripped her wrapped around her torso, holding her to the ground. She shrieked, clawing at it to no avail.
“Snow!” Caspar yelled. He raced toward her, fighting his way through their struggling comrades.
Her abdomen lit up with pain as the ink tried to absorb her, and without thinking she grabbed it, squeezing while her hands lit up brilliant red. Fire melted through the inky tentacle, severing it completely, and Slither screamed in rage.
“Insolent wretch!” he wailed. “You will pay dearly for making me look like a fool in front of my queen!”
The tentacles quivered, opening up and enlarging until they were encased in a black dome lined with purple veins. The significantly smaller group gathered in the center, their backs to one another as they watched the dome start to shrink. Several faces were missing, including Avalanche and Twix. Natalia had not realized how many of their party had fallen until they were forced into one space.
Slither appeared, walking through the dome wall as easily as if it were water. He sauntered toward her, his face cold, hard, and inhuman. His yellow eyes burned. “If you come with me, I might be able to convince the Queen to spare your life.”
“She wants my heart,” Natalia said. “I don’t think I’ll have much life left in me without it.”
Slither chuckled. “You won’t need a heart where you’re going.”
“Neither will you.”
With a great yell, she grabbed one of the arrows from Leaf’s quiver and stabbed it straight into Slither’s chest, right where his heart should be. He looked down, quirking a brow, a half-smile forming on his lips. “That won’t kill me.”
Natalia’s smile turned vicious. “I’m not done yet.”
Summoning everything she had, she sent a jolt of power into the arrow, using it as a conductor as she fried Slither. His whole body lit up and he cried out as red energy burst from his eyes, searing through the dome and creating smoking holes in its surface. The holes enlarged as her power ate away at the dark energy.
When she felt herself growing weak, she yanked out the arrow and Slither’s scream abruptly cut out as he fell to his knees and then onto his side, stunned.
The dome faded away, along with the sentient ink, as if it had never been there.
Weak and out of breath, Natalia’s legs grew shaky and she stumbled. Caspar started forward and caught her up in his arms before she could reach the floor.
“Snow,” he asked, but she nodded, silencing him.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I just need to rest for a bit.” She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back the dizziness.
“Brother.”
Her eyes fluttered open. The man’s body was no longer there; somehow, he had morphed back into Slither. The dwarf lay on his back panting, with one hand covering the hole over his heart.
Wormwart was bent over him, a mixture of sadness and anger on his face. “Brother, how could yeh do this to me?”
“I did… what needed… to be done,” Slither said.
“Yeh didn’t have to go about it like this. We could have talked.”
Slither gave him a pained grin. “Don’t jest, Wormwart. We both know talking isn’t really either of our fortitudes.”
Wormwart’s gaze grew shinier as Slither coughed up more blood, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath.
“It’s not too late,” Wormwart said, clasping his hand. “We can fix this.”
“There’s nothing to fix,” Slither said. “My purpose has been served. My queen has been honored.”
Wormwart tensed, as did the rest of them as Slither wheezed out a laugh. A dark twinkle shone in the dwarf’s yellow eyes. “You lose,” he whispered. The second word rode out on his last breath as his head rolled to the side, his dead eyes not focused on anything.
There was no time to mourn. There wasn’t even time to blink. The rumbling began softly, almost unnoticeable until it grew to a great quake that rattled the foundation and shook the entire fortress.
“What’s happening?” Natalia yelled, climbing out of Caspar’s arms. She never did hear an answer, because right then the earth opened up and they all tumbled into the darkness below.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Die For You
She was still holding up her hands, as if to catch herself, when her eyes opened.
Trees with silver-edged leaves and crystalline bark stood in several neat rows down the length of the massive, rectangular room, the ground of which was completely covered in snow. It wasn’t pure white like
regular snow; it looked dirty, ranging from deep gray to silver. Snowflakes fluttered down from the ceiling, seeming to appear out of thin air. Everything sparkled like faery dust.
Is this real? It seemed too beautiful and perfect to exist in this world.
Slowly, she sat up, wincing as her muscles groaned in protest.
A gentle breeze drifted up to her, carrying a sweet smell with it that she inhaled deeply. That’s when she noticed them, the splashes of red among the greenery of the trees. She squinted, making out round, blood-red flesh swollen with ripe juices. The name of the fruit escaped her because she had not seen any in so long, and then it suddenly came crashing into her mind.
Apples. The trees were filled with dozens and dozens of apples.
As she looked around, she dusted off some snow from her arms. A gray, chalky residue stuck to her fingers.
Strange. It’s not cold.
Staggering to her feet, she looked around. Her eyes landed on a dark figure a few feet away and her heart leapt to her throat. “Caspar!”
Racing over to him, she picked him up in her arms, brushing the strange snow off his face. After listening for his breath, she began stroking his cheek. “Wake up, Caspar. Please wake up.”
With a groan, his eyes fluttered open and he peered up at her. “Snow?”
She sighed, smiling at him. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” He winced as he sat up, rubbing at a bruise on his temple. “My head hurts like hell, but I’ll manage.” He looked around. “Where are we? Where are the others?”
“I don’t know,” she said, standing. “It looks like we’re the only ones here.”
His eyes drifted over the orchard, suddenly widening as a gasp slipped out of him. His entire face went white, as if he had seen a ghost. “It can’t be,” he whispered.
Reaching for the sword that was no longer there, Natalia cursed and glanced over her shoulder, following his gaze. They were alone.
“Caspar?” She knelt in front of him, her brow knitting as she searched his face. “What is it?”
A White So Red Page 30