Thankfully, there was another monster—one faster and more ferocious—who wanted nothing more than to protect Hannah’s life.
Sal’s jaws clamped on the Skrim’s thick red exoskeleton, crushing it as if it were a newly laid chicken egg. Then her dragon vaulted into the sky, the helpless Skrim dangling from his jaws.
“Thanks, you scaly brute,” Hannah yelled after him. Even as the world fell apart around her, she couldn’t help but smile as her creation saved her life—again.
The sound of a warrior’s battle cry cut her celebration short. She rolled onto her feet in time to see Abbey, the Arcadian from the north, run at Ezekiel with her sword drawn. The cold steel reflected the light of the rift. The woman knew as well as Hannah that she didn’t stand a chance against the most powerful magician Irth had ever known, but she went anyway, knowing that her sacrifice might play a small role in saving the world from the madness from Hyrrheim.
The sneer on Ezekiel’s face showed that he resented her assault. Shifting the end of his staff toward her, the glow of his eyes increased just before a blast of energy shot out of it, sending the brave soul sprawling into the darkness.
Hannah could only pray that Abbey had survived the blast.
With Ezekiel’s attention deflected, Julianne ran to Hannah’s side.
“Did you get in his head?” Hannah shouted. Without giving the mystic a chance to answer, she asked, “Why the hell is he doing this?”
Eyes glowing bright white, Julianne answered, “He’s too strong. There’s a mental barrier that’s damn near impossible to penetrate. But I can tell you this—whatever that is, it’s not Ezekiel. Our Founder is gone. Our friend is no more.”
Hannah’s throat constricted at the possibility that Julianne might just be right. She felt the power course through her body, just as it had the day she’d first met Ezekiel. But if the old man had taught her anything, it was control. Discipline. She pulled the energy toward her core and felt the power of millennia dance with the blood of the Matriarch.
The fight was far from over.
Ezekiel turned to face them, madness etched on his brow.
Hannah grabbed Julianne’s arm. “No,” she shouted over the maelstrom, though it sounded no louder than a whisper. “He never gave up on me. I can’t give up on him. Not yet.” She glanced at the mystic friend who had stood with her in the Battle for Arcadia. “Go help the others. I’ll bring the old man home.”
Julianne nodded. Her eyes flashed, and she disappeared.
“Ezekiel,” Hannah shouted, using his proper name. “Whatever’s happening to you, you need to fight it.”
His hands twisted in an elaborate gesture. A ball of fire grew, lighting up his face and making the magician look like the devil himself. “Oh, you don’t have to tell me twice to fight,” he replied…just before he launched the ball of flames at his apprentice.
Hannah dropped to a knee and raised a thick blue shield of energy. She could feel the fire’s heat through the Etheric wall as it washed over her. It held a power like none she had ever battled against, not that she’d let Ezekiel know that.
She dropped the shield and laughed. “That all you got, old man? Did you forget I have the blood of the Matriarch herself on my side? Fight the demon’s grip, or perish under my hand!” She pushed her palm at him, and a bulbous piece of the old stone wall launched toward him.
Spinning, he connected with the missile, shattering it into a thousand pieces. When he raised an arm to shield himself from the shrapnel, Hannah saw her chance. She shot forward like a sprinter in the old Arcadian games, bolting right for him. She drew her old rearick blade, hoping she might have a better chance at subduing him in close-quarter combat.
But Ezekiel’s plan was in place. His lips moved like an old-time priest in penitent prayer to an invisible god.
Hannah knew this next move. “No!” she screamed, diving with perfect timing.
Her shoulder slammed into his torso, and the old man’s feet left the ground. Before they could land they disappeared together, leaving behind nothing but a crack of thunder and a wisp of smoke.
Despite her years of training, Astrid had been every bit as stunned as Hannah when the portal had opened, maybe more. Everything had felt removed, as if she were watching a bizarre play on a stage. How could this vile creature be the Prophet—the one the others called the Founder? How had he fooled so many for so long?
She launched her rope dart at him, but he swatted it away with a laugh, and before she could attack again an angry Skrim crashed into her. Luckily, despite the surprise of this attack, she wasn’t unprepared.
There was a reason Astrid hadn’t taken off her armor. There was a reason she had kept her helmet under her arm and her gauntlets on.
Using her fist, she broke the neck of the Skrim. Before another could come at her she took a moment to put on her helmet on, making sure to tuck her battle braid into the collar. A few shrugs of her shoulder and the braid found a comfortable home, though it made her helmet a bit tight. She would have to talk to Vinnie about adjusting the thing.
Then they came.
Within seconds, Astrid was surrounded by the enemy. She kicked and punched, but there were too many. It was like a wave carrying her away from her allies, but she wasn’t alone.
“We’re with you,” Vinnie’s voice carried above the din as the big man strode into the fray. Karl, the older rearick, was beside him.
“Vinnie!” she shouted, her mind already seeking a tactical advantage. “Get back to the Badger. It’s time to let our red friend out of his cage.” The big mage nodded slowly, unable to take his eyes off the rift. “Hurry. Do it now.”
“Ah, Astrid?” Karl’s voice came from her left. “As much as I’m honored ta fight beside ya, ya don’t look too concerned about what’s happenin’.”
Astrid sighed and looked down at the rearick. “It’s just another day at work.” She closed her faceplate, brought the silksteel line of her rope dart off her shoulder, and spun it above her head.
“I’m thinkin’ about puttin’ in fer a raise,” he muttered.
“We are the frontline in an honorable war, Karl,” Astrid shouted as the stampede approached them. “Glory is enough of a wage for me.”
She let loose with the rope dart, and it pulverized the horned head of a roly-poly Skrim. The dead one became an obstacle that tripped the others and some fell, to be dispatched by Karl’s hammer. Others fell to the silksteel line as it pulled off heads, arms, and legs.
While the rest of the heroes were doing gods-knew-what, the two veteran warriors settled into an easy rhythm. Astrid would use the line of her rope dart to wrap around any part of a Skrim and pull it toward Karl, who would smash it happily. They took turns defending each other’s flanks. Astrid was confident enough in Karl’s fighting ability that she hardly bothered looking over her shoulder.
“Duck!” she had to shout once, when Karl’s attention had been drawn to a particularly skilled Skrim.
He obeyed instantly, and the dart passed through the space his head had occupied an instant before. The rearick didn’t even flinch. Her respect and admiration for Karl grew by the second.
Astrid. Julianne’s voice startled her. We need Karl.
Not sure I can spare him, Astrid thought back.
“Please go. Yer takin’ all the kills, ya great, gorgeous, terrifyin’ lass,” Karl shouted back.
He must be hearing the same thoughts. Astrid managed to give him a wink and a smile.
He is, Julianne responded to Astrid’s random thought. I can see through everyone’s eyes. Gormer is doing the same. I can see the whole battlefield. Don’t worry, I’ll find you some backup. But we’re in trouble over here.
Really, Astrid thought as she let the line wrap around her body to go hand-to-hand. The crowd was too close to swing the dart.
Pincers, claws, and teeth broke against her armor. She used her entire body as a weapon. Karl was getting cut. Julianne was right.
“Sorry, Karl,�
� Astrid said. She cleared four Skrima with an epic spin-kick, then grabbed Karl by the arm. “You are needed elsewhere.”
She spun with the rearick, using his densely-muscled body as a living mace to knock down Skrima as she whirled. He relaxed into the arrangement, extending his hammer arm to do even more damage. His face was a picture of pure, violent delight as he beamed at her. She spun him faster and finally let go, throwing him clear of the melee. It reminded her of spinning her small nieces by the arms when they were children.
“I think I love yoooooouuuuu…” he shouted as he sailed through the air.
And now she was laughing hysterically, alone with Skrima that pressed in on her. She was forced to use close-quarter fighting methods. The combat was all knees, elbows, and headbutts.
At one point, she found herself with two Skrima arms in her hands. They’d gone stiff when she tore them from the bodies, so she used them like crude swords until they broke.
I’m not sure what’s scarier, Julianne thought, your sense of humor or what you’re doing to those Skrima right now.
That made her laugh even harder.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Arryn had watched in horror as a rift opened behind the Founder. For years, she’d sat around the fire and listened to the Chieftain’s semi-drunken tales of the days of old. He’d spoken so fondly of Ezekiel—a man Arryn had wanted very much to meet—and this was him?
How could that possibly be?
Something’s not right. This can’t be him…
She didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, as Skrima poured out by the dozens. Soon she was embroiled in battle. But as perilous as the moment was, she wasn’t thinking about her own safety.
“Corrine!” she shouted, knowing there was little chance the girl could hear her over the noise. She just hoped Corrine had enough sense to stay out of the thick of it.
Four large Skrima broke her concentration. They charged after her like battering rams. She put an arrow through the largest one’s eye, but it kept running. A bolt of lightning took it down in mid-stride, and she whispered her thanks to whichever magician had sent it.
She managed to shoot an arrow down a Skrim’s throat, and it choked, then stumbled forward. Arryn laughed even as she prepared to get out of the way, but help arrived before running was an option.
Cleo and Bast flew in like meteors, knocking down the other two giants.
Bast got to her feet first, dancing like she had just won a race. Arryn shouted and grabbed their attention.
“Bast, Cleo, thanks for the assist, but don’t go in so hard this time. There are too many, and you’ll need your strength.” She looked around wildly. “Dammit, where the hell is Cat?”
“Relax,” he told her as he sprinted to her side, sword already bloody. “You’d think this was the end of the world or something.”
“Save your smug-assity for later. We’ve got a fight to win. Just start roping ‘em up, and I’ll take em down.”
Uh, hey, you don’t know me very well, but I’m Hadley. The soundless voice was smooth.
Yeah, well, she sent back, what the hell are you doing in my head?
I’m with some baby druid who’s trying to get herself killed. She says you say it’s okay if she fights.
Fuck that! Arryn nearly shouted. Tell her she knows the rules. Healing only, no fighting unless absolutely necessary.
Uh, I tried something like that. She rolled her eyes, but it looks like she’s gonna listen. Thanks.
Arryn shook her head. She knew it wouldn’t be long before Corrine was battling with them full-time. It wasn’t like she hadn’t fought alongside them before, but it had been life or death, and she certainly didn’t like the risk—especially when it seemed like the Founder himself was their enemy.
Bast and Cleo knelt and thrust a fist to the ground, which began to shake. As Bast lifted her hand a large spike of dirt and rock burst upward, redirecting the Skrima. Cleo followed suit, another spike herding them in a different direction.
“Come on,” Cathillian shouted. “The twins are breaking them up. They’ll be easier for everyone to take like that. Let’s go get ours.”
Arryn grabbed Cathillian’s hand as her eyes turned black. Her magic swelled around her before imploding and transporting them near Parker and the others.
“Now, this didn’t go so well the last time,” Arryn reminded him.
Cathillian laughed. “Yeah, no shit. Let’s try to be a little less reckless this time.”
Parker desperately looked around for Hannah, trusting in her power to find a way to plug the gap, but he hadn’t been able to find her since the chaos had begun.
Luckily, she wasn’t the only powerhouse out here.
It didn’t take him long to find the young druid instead. She battled in the thick of it, side by side with Cathillian. The way the two moved, it was like they had been training together since birth.
“Hey, Arryn, we’re a bit outnumbered here, don’t ya think?”
She killed a flying Skrim with an arrow and gave him a weird look. “I thought you were supposed to be smart or something?”
He laughed. “What I mean is, we’d have a bit more luck if we could slow them down at the source.”
She smiled. “Sure thing, if you can get your Storm Caller friend to show us something good. I’ve heard so much about how damn powerful they can be.”
Dustin was next to Parker, doing damage with his magitech staff. “What the hell is she going on about?”
“What?” Parker chuckled as he drove his spear through the throat of another Skrim. “Problems taking orders from a woman?”
Dustin shrugged. “Have you met my wife? All I do is take orders from women, and it generally works out for the best when I listen to them.”
He shouted to Arryn, “I can bring the magic. You just tell me what you need.”
“Simple, really,” she replied. “I’m making a firewall, and you’re going to help!”
Arryn conjured a massive fireball and aimed it at the ground near the rift. The dry grass caught, and soon the blaze burned strong. She conjured wind, guiding the spread of the fire toward the rift.
“Oh, I like her,” Dustin said with a grin. He gripped his staff and called his own wind, hitting the fire from a different angle and stoking it to greater heights as Arryn’s wind kept it contained around the rift.
Parker had seen a fair amount of nature magic, but he had never seen control like Dustin’s. It made Hannah look like a novice.
But the Storm Caller’s power came with a cost—he was totally focused on his magic and not the screaming hoard of Skrima around him. When a giant scaly thing decided to go for the easy kill. It charged toward him. Parker fired his spear, but the thing kept coming.
“Uh, Dustin?”
If the wizard heard him, he gave no sign.
Parker fired again and again, but the Skrim charged on. He looked around, desperate to find someone or something that would help him defend the storm caller.
Incoming, Julianne’s voice was clear in his mind, but he wasn’t sure what help the mystic would be.
His doubts were unfounded.
As the Skrim reared its front hooves to crush Dustin, a rearick-shaped missile came hurtling through the air. Parker stared in awe as it crashed hammer-first into the Skrim’s head, toppling the beast just feet from Dustin.
Karl pushed himself off the ground with a dazed look in his eye and shook his head. “That damned woman... I don’t recommend... Damn, me head hurts.” Then he looked around and saw the flames that danced around the portal, keeping more Skrima from exiting. Lucky thing, since the rest of them had their hands full with the ones who’d already come through.
“Ya damn wind-throwers are on ta somethin’ there,” Karl marveled.
Unfortunately, the rearick wasn’t the only one who noticed the storm magic controlling the flames. A group of Skrima converged on Arryn, and she disappeared from Karl’s view. A moment later, Parker saw another group of the cr
eatures charging for Dustin. The Storm Caller’s full attention was still focused on the rift.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Parker yelled as he and Karl turned to meet them, but they were once again outnumbered.
As he focused on watching Dustin’s back, he forgot to watch his own. Three of the smaller, faster Skrima rushed toward him as he tried to dodge a claw that lashed out. A concussive wave of power rolled out of somewhere, knocking the Skrima backward.
Parker looked up and saw Dustin holding the magitech portion of his staff outward.
“Can’t a guy cast his storm magic in peace?”
“Sure, kid. After this is over, ya can give us some clear skies wi’ a cool breeze,” Karl yelled as he swung his hammer.
“Dammit,” Arryn shouted.
“What the hell is wrong?” Cat yelled back. The two of them were alone again.
“My firewall was working before this ass-faced Skrim-shit tried to bowl me over.”
“Don’t worry, my love,” he offered with an over-exaggerated flourish. “I shall help you slay the foul beast.”
Vines split through the ground, wrapping around the Skrim’s neck and legs and stopping it hard. Cathillian moved his hands downward, yanking the Skrim into the dirt.
“Thanks!” Arryn said before nocking an arrow and loosing it with precision and speed. The arrow pierced the Skrim’s eye, and she fired another into the other eye. Its screams caught the attention of another and brought it charging at Arryn.
She and Cathillian both turned to deal with the beast, before they could even take a step, they were splashed with its blood. Bast had crushed its head with her lethal Etheric-powered feet.
Bast now stood inside the beast, the warmth of it wrapping around her. Arryn and Cathillian stared at her with wide eyes and scrunched faces, and the woman began to gag.
“Oh, fuck—” Dry heave. “I did not—” Dry heave. “Think that through.” As she stepped out of its head, she looked down at her legs, which were covered in Skrim blood and guts to the knees. “The smell!”
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