“He let me believe we would be able to save Nevaharday,” the prince pointed out. “A deception that turns my stomach every time I think about it.”
Levee ran her fingers through the strands of Jaycent’s mahogany hair, gently loosening the knots the howling wind had tied. “I agree he was too subtle about his views of Nevaharday’s fate. But he’s warned you many times the city might not make it through this. Neither of us can deny that.”
“A risk,” Jaycent argued. “That is what he made it sound like. Not an inevitable outcome.”
“But all of that is irrelevant now, isn’t it?” she reminded him. “What matters at this point is what we choose to do from here.”
Jaycent pressed his palms against his eyes and groaned, dreading the thought. “I have been scouring my mind for a way to fulfill Tobi’s wishes and still save Nevaharday.”
Levee dropped her hands back onto his shoulders. “You know, a wise elder once told me the story of the winged horse named Seqwa who tried to walk two paths at once.”
Jaycent drew his hands from his face, his pale blue eyes crinkled beneath baffled brows. “I am unfamiliar with that tale.”
“It’s an old one,” Levee rubbed her palm against his cheek. “But what I gathered from it is sometimes our paths fork, and we have to make a choice. We cannot walk both roads.”
The prince’s voice fell back to that husky tone that gave Levee chills. “And if I choose the wrong path? What happens then?”
“Trust in what your heart tells you,” Levee comforted. “That is all you can do, Jayce. I’ll follow you either way you choose.”
That was enough for the weary prince. He rolled onto his elbow, his lips trailing their way to hers where they entwined. With gentle hands, he brought her down onto his bedroll where let himself go inside a lover’s comfort. Truly, his mate was the image of her namesake; a levee against the tumultuous troubles that wearied his soul.
Yet as soon as they broke apart and Levee nestled against Jaycent’s side, the prince couldn’t stop his thoughts from drifting back to their plight. A crossroad still remained where he would have to make a choice.
Closing his eyes, the prince waited for his breathing to slow so his chest rose and fell in an even rhythm. With his body at rest, he cleared his mind until all he remained aware of was the beat of his heart and the air in his lungs.
Only in a state of peace could Jaycent reach his innate source of magic. He coaxed it awake, seeking the plane of visions until the world around him dissipated. Then in a whisper too faint to stir his mate, he called upon the soul that had been bonded with his. “Diego…”
From somewhere within the recess of that plane, he heard the stallion’s familiar whinny.
* * * * *
For days, General Mendeley and Patchi proved to be a formidable team. Their soldiers and warriors kept the mimics and night mares at bay, and though a new list of casualties came through the gate every morning the losses were minimal.
But all of that ended tonight. As the sun descended and a thick black wave of monsters clouded the hillocks once again, over half of the city’s defenses stood outside of the gates, stone-faced and ready to combat the jagged horns and biting axes of the opposing army.
The horse folk weren’t afraid. So disciplined were Rayhan and Patchi’s forces that the masses of monsters could have come in droves and still not won a single battle. However, the advance of Shadow’s Abysmal minions was just a ruse to keep the horse folk’s eyes ahead and their backs turned.
If only they had known that the real threat stood by their side, raising sword and shield and arrows with them until their traitorous eyes caught their inevitable cue.
But they never saw it coming
Night cast its shade, and in the middle of the enemy army a wake stirred as a large body waded through.
“Diego!” General Mendeley bellowed.
Jaycent could see it happening through Diego’s eyes. The unicorn cantered through Nevaharday’s ranks to meet the general on the frontlines, his attention focused on the three-horned beast standing in front of the Abysmal army.
“A dread stallion,” the unicorn tossed his head in a disgusted snort, his front hoof pawing the snow as he restrained the urge to charge the beast. “Stay out of his way, General. I will deal with that one.”
Rayhan nodded and turned his mare to face his cavalry where he shouted orders for the soldiers to keep clear of the three-horned stallion. The Nevahardan soldiers stomped their boots and shouted in unison, confirming the command, while Patchi’s troops let out a high pitch trill that rained into a wild mix of battle cries.
“Gods,” Jaycent tensed, hoping somehow the unicorn could hear his words. “Diego, that is not just a dread stallion. It is Shadow!”
The unicorn’s ears twitched and he looked behind him. When he saw nothing, Diego closed his eyes and focused his mental energy.
“Prince?” The stallion’s voice broke into His Highness’s consciousness just as it had when the unicorn intervened in his dreams.
“Diego! You can hear me?”
“Yes,” the beast replied. “Though the question is how?”
“No time to explain,” the prince replied. “You need to tell Rayhan to evacuate the city. Nevaharday has already been infiltrated.”
The unicorn looked back at the impregnable walls and the portcullis shielding the city’s entryway. “It is too late for that, Your Highness. The enemy has closed in and set its camps.”
“Diego!” the general shouted, calling the unicorn into action. Ahead the Abysmal army began its charge, their eager cries and unbridled stampede quivering the ground beneath their feet.
“I must fight, my prince,” the unicorn apologized, his heavy hooves launching into a fierce gallop. “Fear not for our sakes. Your own path is with the re’shahna. Trust them, and perhaps we shall meet again.”
The unicorn then closed his mind off from the prince’s voice as he charged headlong toward the red-eyed beast. Jaycent could only watch in horror as the two magnificent stallions clashed, black silk legs pawing as their horns cracked against one another in strikes that would tear flesh apart.
Jaycent’s fears unfurled as their collision brought forth a whole new wave of chaos. Cries of surprise and pain rose inside the city walls and out as several rahenyan allies turned against the gypsies, who in turn fought against every rahee in a desperate attempt to defend themselves in the unexpected betrayal.
With the alliance shattered, Shadow’s minions rolled over their foes like a black tidal wave, slaying and enslaving with merciless hoots of triumph. Jaycent had never known such agony as he felt in that moment, his ethereal presence ineffective against the terrible scene playing out around him.
General Mendeley fought valiantly, his elemental mare slamming her magical hooves against the ground to send tremors through the earth that shook their foes off balance. He worked his sword right, left, right, then back, forcing a path through the sea of bodies.
But Kotu rode up on his painted mare with three soldiers at his flank, and soon the sheer volume of Shadow’s monstrous fodder gave the general no other choice but to surrender.
With a grimace, he lowered his sword, his brown eyes promising death to blonde-haired soldier.
“Traitor!” Jaycent heard him accuse, to which Kotu merely laughed.
“Settle down, Mendeley,” Kotu replied. “Shadow wants you alive, but all I need is a good excuse to kill you. And believe me, the deed is tempting.”
The general smirked, sidling his mare what little bit he could as Diego continued to lock horns against Shadow’s equine form: the final fight in Nevaharday’s stand.
The black unicorn wheeled and bucked, thrusting his hind legs into the dread stallion’s withers. Shadow snorted and threw his head toward Diego’s flanks just as the unicorn loped aside, narrowly missing the three horns’ nasty rake.
“You are delaying the inevitable, unicorn!” Shadow shouted as he charged with his head down toward D
iego’s middle. The unicorn vaulted, thrusting his neck at an angle so that his horn slid between the beast’s three spiraled lances. Using the powerful muscles in his hindquarters, he threw his weight right, slinging the dread stallion across the snow.
Shadow slid a couple feet and rolled back onto all fours just as Diego slammed his hooves down in a heavy strike. A puff of snow hit the dread stallion’s gaunt face, confusing him just long enough for the unicorn to slip in a glancing slash across his neck.
Shadow galloped away and Diego went charging after, just as the illusionist had planned. The dread stallion dashed between two cavalry soldiers who tossed a pair of lassos behind him, seizing Diego around the neck.
The unicorn skidded to a halt and attempted to back out of the ropes, but the lassos tightened and held fast against his vicious tugs.
“Come on, Diego!” Jaycent shouted, though he knew the stallion couldn’t hear him.
Typically, rope would have been little hindrance against the mighty unicorn whose strength matched ten war horses. But Shadow had planned for that, enchanting the lassos with a powerful spell that burned and punished Diego with every tug. He snorted and neighed, fighting all the harder despite the pain. Jaycent winced along with him, crying out as his bond with the beast forced him to feel the magic’s bite.
Too soon, Diego was brought to his knees. Too soon, he bowed his head in forced submission, his breath coming in short, angry snorts. Jaycent wailed from within his plane as Shadow shifted into his re’shahna form, that dreadful blue sword in hand. Two soldiers came with a saw and placed its jagged blade upon Diego’s horn.
“No!” Rayhan shouted. Kotu jerked him back by the tunic, his own blade poised against the general’s neck, but the rahee refused to be silenced by the threat. “You fool!” he yelled at Shadow. “You shall curse yourself a thousand times over.”
Shadow laughed. “Look at me! Do I look like a creature of pious blessings?” The illusionist flicked a hand of consent toward the two soldiers who began to saw.
Diego pulled and jerked, his back hooves scraping grooves into the ground as he tried to pull away from the excruciating pain. Rayhan turned his head away, unable to watch the cruel and gruesome act of tearing the magical conduit from the unicorn’s body.
But Jaycent couldn’t hide from it, even if he wanted to. He fell upon unseen knees, his head cradled in his hands as the same unbearable pain jolted through his consciousness. He could feel Diego’s anguish as the magical link that bonded them was broken with every arduous cut into the beast’s horn.
Diego’s struggle grew weaker, and so did Jaycent as they both leaned heavily on all fours, head bowed, until they couldn’t hold themselves upright anymore. There was a loud snap as the final cut sheared the horn’s base and both Diego and the prince fell onto their side, weak and shivering from the drain.
“It’s over now, stallion,” the illusionist taunted with a crooked grin. “Tell your prince I’m claiming his city—oh wait!” The soldier placed the horn in Shadow’s hand and the re’shahna admired it as he fell into a fit of demented laughter. “You can’t.”
* * * * *
“Jayce? Jaycent, wake up!”
The prince jerked back into consciousness, his whole body trembling against the ripples of pain left behind by the extraction of Diego’s horn. Levee crouched over him, shaking his shoulders relentlessly and sighing with relief when the prince finally opened his eyes.
“Thank the gods,” she breathed. “You were howling like a wounded dog.”
“Diego,” Jaycent whispered. He rolled onto his side and climbed to his feet where he began to gather his effects.
“What about him?” Levee asked. “What’s going on?”
“My vision—” he stopped himself and started over. “Nay, not a vision. I was in Nevaharday. Lev, I have to go. The city’s turned against itself. They’ve captured Rayhan and Diego. They…” he couldn’t even finish the phrase, though just the thought of Diego’s torture had him moving even quicker. “I have to help him. At the very least, I cannot let his horn remain in Shadow’s hands.”
“His horn? Jayce, what are you talking about?” Exasperated but trying to follow, Levee donned her cloak and gathered their things. “Are you sure what you saw really happened? Maybe it is a vision of what may happen. You know, a glimpse of what could be if we don’t do as we’re supposed to?”
“It happened, Lev,” the prince assured her.
“How do you know?”
Jaycent stuffed his bedroll into his pack and looked her dead in the eye. “Because I can no longer feel Diego within me.”
Levee leaned back against the rough cave wall, her eyes on her toes as she internalized those words. Everyone in Nevaharday knew that Jaycent and Diego were a bonded pair, one with each other as a living testament to the alliance between the horse folk and the herds.
The only way that bond could be broken was if Diego was robbed of his magical core. Levee blanched at the thought of the stallion’s horn falling into Shadow’s hands.
“Lev?” Jaycent pressed, his pack already slung across his shoulder. His mate looked at him, almost in a daze, but she managed to pick up her bag and place it on her back. “You can stay if you want to… I’ll come back for you.”
“Are you forgetting?” Levee’s voice was soft, but Jaycent saw in her faint smile a dose of courage. “You aren’t the only one who left loved ones behind...”
Jaycent nodded. “Then let us go. We must be off before Tobi returns.” When Levee scrunched her face in disapproval, the prince shook his head. “He would not understand.”
The gypsy sagged her shoulders but she knew the prince was right. So the duo left the warmth of the cave for the frozen river that would lead the way to Nevaharday’s kingdom.
Not very far up the path, Tobi leaned one shoulder against an evergreen tree as he watched them go, a frown upon his lips.
“So you have chosen the lion’s den,” Tobi murmured, his voice lost to the wind. He wrapped his fingers around the shard hanging from his neck, his chest tight with dread. “Then may Tennakawa’s strength be enough to protect you, brother, for I no longer can.”
HELLOS AND GOODBYES
A few miles outside of Nevaharday, New Haven stood abandoned, the heavy wind causing broken doors to swing with lonely squeaks on their hinges.
Soon after General Mendeley’s capture, Shadow claimed the city, and his minions swept the towns in search of rations and loot before burning the rest into ruin. The Abysmal monsters held no concept of mercy; no respect for life, culture, or preservation. By the end of their frenzied raids, New Haven’s charm had been broken into a smoldering haunt fit only for the ghosts of war.
The mimics moved quickly through rooms filled with memories, pulling open drawers and stealing anything of worth they could find. However, none of them considered what could lie beneath the floors.
Their shoes pattered over a rug inside a small stone cottage without a second thought, its fibers too worn to catch the attention of dull-witted thieves. They had no idea a square trap sat under it, concealing the remnants of New Haven’s citizens.
“A damn lucky thing,” muttered one of the farmers. He had sat on a dirt floor for hours with his family huddled around him until silence permeated the house again. “You were right, Kasateno. None of those wretched monsters even thought to look under their feet.”
“You really think they’re gone?” whispered the farmer’s doe-eyed mate as she hugged her two frightened children against her hip.
“For now at least,” Milo replied. He peeked through the cracks in the floor to confirm the room was empty. Just as he expected, the raiding party had moved on.
Milo had been one of the lucky ones. He had chosen to leave the city soon after the gypsies joined forces with Rayhan’s troops, determined to find Levee on his own.
The general hadn’t been keen on the idea, but Milo insisted. He returned to New Haven where a few neighbors had chosen to remain and stayed there w
hile he tried to think of a plan to find his missing gypsy.
What he found instead was a turn in the tide. He and the others watched helplessly from a few miles out when Nevaharday yielded under a horrific and baffling betrayal.
When the hoards turned their weapons toward the outer villages, it was Milo’s cunning that spared New Haven’s people. When Shadow’s minions closed in on the village, the Sarrokian gathered the four remaining families and offered them shelter inside his hidden cellar.
There, they spent two nights in the dark, stuffy storeroom where Milo formulated a plan to escape to Sarrokye. But now that it was time to put that plan into action, the thought of leaving Levee behind filled him with hesitation. He paced nervously.
“We can’t stay here much longer, Milo,” reminded a voice full of sympathy Milo didn’t want to hear. He turned to Rab, the pale-haired farmer that had come to his aid after his fight with the ogre.
“I’ll tell ya how to get there,” Milo replied. “I’m not leavin’ yet. Not ‘til I find Levee.”
“Surely she’s dead,” a farmer whose patience was thin with fear remarked. Rab cuffed him upside the head.
“I don’t doubt your courage, Sarrokian,” said Rab. “But Levee wouldn’t want you to risk your life waiting for her. Not when you can help those huddled here in front of you. If she’s alive, she’ll find her way back here, and you can leave her a letter stating where to find you when she does. Until then, you should come with us.”
Milo winced, unable to combat Rab’s reasoning. The farmer was right. If he and the others waited too long, they may not make it out at all.
“At first light of the next morn then,” Milo agreed with a heart as heavy as stone. “It’s too close to evenin’ now. We’ll pack tonight and leave the next day. Make your bags light. There’s no stopping the first day we set out for Sarrokye.”
* * * * *
Before the mountains ever tapered off into the foothills of Nevaharday, Jaycent and Levee saw the smoke. It rose into the sky like pillars, dousing the reprieve of daylight.
The Rogue Trilogy Page 39