by K. M. Shea
I was hoping to drag the monster away from the realm barrier. It was a good plan, until my ward actually touched the monster.
Pain popped in my skull, and I shouted as it radiated down my arms and legs. I thought it was because the monster smashed its tail into my spell or something, but when I peeled an eye open I saw the monster had lumbered around and faced the barrier, its jaw hanging open.
It was inhaling the ward, making the magic evaporate.
I shoved more magic into the spell, but I couldn’t keep up. The monster sucked the magic down with too much greed, and the barrier grew smaller and smaller.
The pain continued, hot and electric. My spine arched, and the pain sloshed around in my brain until I couldn’t handle it anymore.
I let the sputtering ward go, sobbing with relief when the pain left.
Before I could draw myself upright, an arrow—blazing with magic—soared past me, striking the monster in its empty eye socket.
Rather than exploding, or reacting in some way with magic, the arrow disappeared into the shadows of the empty eye socket, and nothing happened.
Somewhere off to the side, Rigel swore.
He caught up pretty fast. “It’s eating magic, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Eating or burning it somehow,” Rigel confirmed. “It doesn’t seem to grow stronger from it.”
Thinking of the way I’d destroyed a couple of shadow monsters I forged a ward underneath the monster and activated it.
The ward sprouted into a barrier, and instantly evaporated when it touched the monster, leaving me with an intense wave of pain that made me stagger a few steps.
It seemed like my old tricks weren’t going to work on this monstrosity.
“How do we kill it?” I asked. “Would overwhelming it with magic work?”
Rigel shook his head. “Maybe Rime and all her siblings could, but it would take most of the Court to achieve the same effect here.”
The monster whirled around, dragging its tail across the ground and cutting huge trenches in the dirt.
Dust filled the air, and I coughed into my sleeve, but headlights cut through the smog.
Three trucks—the beds filled with armor-wearing fae warriors—pulled up behind us.
Chase popped out of the front seat of one of the trucks. “Into position,” he shouted. “Go!”
“Chase?” I shouted. “How did you get trucks in here?”
“The night mares helped me bring them in a month ago,” Chase said.
His men leaped from the trucks and formed organized ranks, unholstering what looked like highly altered—perhaps even magical—rifles.
The monster took a swipe at one of the groups of guards with its clawed feet.
Using my charm bracelet, I formed a barrier, protecting them. But when the monster raked its claws across my purple shield, pain ripped through my mind, and I screamed as my barrier shuddered, fast losing magic due to contact with the monster.
When it pulled back, Chase shouted. “Fire!”
The two dozen guards opened fire on the monster, peppering it with shots that exploded on contact.
Even then, they did no damage.
The fires that licked at the creature’s body winked out, and its fur and feathers remained unsinged.
Shadows swirled around the creature, and it exhaled on a tree, turning it into ash, and then it swung its pale skull around to face us.
A gloom screamed and leapt at the monster.
“NO!” I shouted, putting every ounce of my will behind it.
If they touch it, it will kill them—suck the magic right out of their essence.
The cat twisted midair, cutting its leap short.
I sagged with relief, but it was short lived. The monster took a swipe at the cat with a clawed foot and barely missed it.
“We need to get it away from the realm wards,” I shouted to Chase and Rigel. “We have to split up.”
“Absolutely not,” Chase said.
“How do you expect to defeat it?” Rigel asked.
“Get the Day King,” I said. “He should have enough light in him to stop it. Maybe.”
The creature lunged at us. I barely grew a ward in time, screaming in pain as it sank its claws into the shield.
The pain was so intense I fell off Eclipse, but the monster didn’t back off. Its claws sounded like nails on a chalkboard as it tried to poke through my shimmering barrier.
Blood dripped from my nose, and it felt like the building pressure in my brain would make my head explode. Even worse, the magic flowing through my prism was slowing to a sputter. Just a few more seconds, and I wouldn’t have enough to keep the ward protecting us activated.
Rigel brushed past me.
There was a horrific crunch, and the pain retreated.
The monster raised its skull to the sky and screamed—a horrible, wet noise that made goosebumps pop up on my arms and legs.
When I could finally see straight Rigel was jogging back around the barrier, carrying a glowing sword.
“It seems it can be hurt,” Rigel said. “You just have to cut straight through.” He nodded to the chipped claw that lay just past my barrier.
He’d cut straight through it.
“Lord Linus said if we had a way to do it, we could behead the monster which would cut off the magic…” I trailed off when I finally got a good look at Rigel and realized the left sleeve of his jacket was torn, and blood dripped down his arm. “You’re hurt!”
Rigel shrugged. “It’s just a scratch,” he said. “It nicked me when it pulled back.” He rolled his shoulders back, not even a flicker of pain showing on his stoic face.
He’s hurt. Rigel is hurt. Rigel!
That, more than anything else, scared me.
I’d never seen Rigel injured before. That his left arm now dripped with blood was a very, very bad sign.
“We split up,” I repeated as I clambered onto Eclipse’s back. “Get help.”
I turned Eclipse away from Chase’s protests and shouted to my animals, “Scatter!” I put my magic behind the command, pleading with my night mares, shades, and glooms for their cooperation.
It worked.
The cats and dogs peeled off, fading back into the shadows, and the night mares took off—calling to one another as they wove through the ruined landscape.
I need to make sure it follows me. Eclipse might be the only one that can stay ahead of it.
I yanked magic through my prism and created a common light-orb with my magic. I held the glob of light in my fist and waved it at the monster. “Hey! Ugly! Come and get me!”
I didn’t think it would actually react, but the monster peered back and forth until its skull was pointed in my direction. Then it dragged itself forward, clawing its way along, destroying everything in its path.
Eclipse bolted, thundering across the barren Night Realm land.
“Sorry, Eclipse,” I apologized when the mare snorted.
She tossed her head, then tucked her muzzle so it made her neck bulge with muscles, and went faster.
She galloped so fast the air stung my eyes, and I couldn’t see a thing—just hear the thumps as the monster sank its claws into the ground and dragged itself after us.
What do we do? What do we do? I can’t just let it run around the realm. If Solis can’t kill it, I’ll need the Cloisters’ help. But they’ll never get here in time, and dumping this thing in the human world isn’t an option!
Eclipse abruptly adjusted her stride, drastically slowing down.
When I blinked the tears out of my eyes, I realized we were running along the shore of the large lake. My heart leaped into my throat when I saw Skye and Chrysanthe running toward us, carrying something covered in a purple banner between them.
“Eclipse, stop,” I called to my mare, who was already slowing down.
She’d barely slowed to a trot before I took a flying leap off her, landing next to Skye with enough force that I had to hop a few steps or risk falling over. �
�What are you two doing?” I snarled to the steward. “We need to clear the area—that thing’s out of control.”
Chrysanthe shook her head. “No—you can handle it.”
“Are you insane? What—with my broken magic—has you thinking I can do that when I can’t even save our realm!”
Skye whipped the purple banner off the long thing the duo carried, revealing the original king’s staff.
The crescent moon gleamed in the dim night light, and the crystal glittered.
“It’s yours,” Skye said. “Your prism? It’s not an artifact unto itself—it’s why you’re having trouble with it. It’s a part of the staff.”
“What?”
Chrysanthe held the staff up to my face and pointed at the crystal at the bottom of the crescent moon. “It’s chipped and bumpy because your prism connects here.”
“The prism didn’t call out to you in your selection ceremony, the staff did,” Skye added. “If you reconnect the two, they should re-meld.”
“No way!” I said.
“Leila!” Skye shouted in a voice that was the angriest I’d ever heard her be. “You have to trust me on this!”
“Skye found records.” Chrysanthe’s olive skin paled as she stared at the oncoming creature. Fear glazed her eyes, but when she turned to me her shoulders were set. “If you can’t believe in yourself, believe in Skye!”
The creature was going to be on us soon. It was clawing up chunks of earth and sending them spiraling through the sky, and flattening whatever trees and undergrowth had the unfortunate luck to be in its way.
“Leila!” Skye barked.
I turned in her direction.
“It’s fine!” she said.
I scowled. “You’re insane! When we get home, I am going to make you listen to Chase’s talk on workplace safety!”
I snatched the banner from Chrysanthe and used it to take the staff from the pair. My stomach did flip flops as I deactivated my prism, then set it on top of the staff’s stunted crystal with shaking fingers.
My prism exploded with light. I squeezed my eyes shut, and when I peeled them open again, my artifact had flawlessly melded with the staff, looking like one seamless crystal that popped out of the crescent moon.
What the—no. Think about it later.
I sucked in a breath and made myself focus. “You two need to get out of here—Eclipse!”
“No—no, I’m not riding one of those things,” Chrysanthe objected.
“Then you should have thought about that before you strutted out here like an idiot!” I said.
Eclipse pranced up to me, stopping next to us. Cupping my hands together, I nodded to Skye.
She put her foot in my hands, and I boosted her onto Eclipse’s back, then practically threw Chrysanthe up behind her.
“How am I supposed to use this thing?” I asked.
“The same way you’d use any artifact,” Skye said.
“Even though it’s the Original Creep’s?”
“All an artifact does is transform wild magic into a usable force, and perhaps amplify it,” Skye said. “It will be like your prism, just more powerful. Use whatever you’re most confident in!”
The dirt and broken trunks the monster scattered had reached the lakeshore.
I had about three seconds before it would be on us.
“Eclipse, go!” I shouted.
The mare tossed her head and took off, carrying a grim-faced Skye and a screaming Chrysanthe far away.
I peeled the banner off the staff and—fear curdling my stomach—touched it with my bare hand.
I felt magic everywhere. But instead of feeling overwhelmed as I had before I’d reunited the prism and the staff, this time it felt controlled and solid.
I could feel the ripples on the lake, the soft light of the stars in the sky, and could sense the heartbeat of every living thing in a mile radius.
And I could see wild magic—flashes of it, anyway. I could see it drift in the air and churn through the staff, which made it glow a beautiful purple color.
I didn’t even have to use an activation word to activate the staff. As if it recognized my touch, it started pouring magic to me—like a river. Half addled by the beauty and all the new sensations, I created a ward.
This time, when the monster collided with it, I only felt a twinge of pain.
I just had so much magic at my disposal, it didn’t matter that the monster was guzzling the magic straight from the barrier. More flowed in to take its place.
When the monster backed up, I dismissed the ward and created a huge orb of light—one the size of a car.
I flashed it in front of the monster’s skull. To my disappointment, it shook its head and chattered its teeth at me, but it didn’t seem hurt by the light.
In fact, it barged through the light to ram me again.
I scooped up magic from my staff and created another ward, forged of purple runes at my feet. I activated it just before the monster struck. It smacked with enough force to send me skidding backwards, my feet kicking up pebbles and sand from the lake shore as the water lapped at my heels. The barrier, though, held, and the pain was about equal to a weak headache.
I could hold the monster off, but we were locked in a stalemate. And even with all of this magic on my side, I wasn’t sure I could wield it well enough to win.
I gritted my teeth as the monster pushed me another inch or two into the lake.
I abruptly released the barrier and ran up the shore, splashing through the shallow water as I tried to come up with an idea.
The monster crashed after me, carelessly slapping the water with its tail.
It lunged for me, and I created another ward.
“Leila!” Lord Linus shouted.
Skye and Chrysanthe had apparently stopped and gotten off farther down the shore. Indigo, Rigel, Chase, Lord Linus, and—most annoyingly of all—Fell were with them. Eclipse and a few of the other night mares swarmed around the crowd, but the idiots had all apparently decided to risk their necks and stay behind.
“Give it up, Night Queen!” Fell shouted. “Drop it in the human realm!”
Sweat trickled down my back as I held the barrier up. “Words can’t describe how much I’d like it if the Autumn King would be temporarily disposed of,” I snarled.
“Got it,” Indigo shouted.
“What? No—get back!” Fell shouted.
There was a skittering of pebbles, then a metallic clang, followed by a thump.
“Okay, he’s out of it!” Indigo said.
“Perfect—!” I broke off in a shout of surprise when the monster shoved me knee deep into the lake water.
“Solis is on his way!” Chase shouted. “You just need to hold it off until he gets out to his sun stallions and ports in!”
“Yes, that’s great, except I don’t know that light is going to work like we hoped.” I leaned into the ward, the muscles in my arm straining as I clutched the unwieldy staff in my other hand.
It was so annoying! With all of this power at my disposal, you’d think I’d have a fighting chance!
Skye said it amplifies magic, and I should use whatever I’m most confident in. The thought drifted through my brain. Besides wards, what magic am I most confident in?
I gritted my teeth and poured more magic into my ward, making the barrier triple in size.
It smacked into the monster, catching it off guard and pushing it back a few steps.
I dropped the ward, planted the staff in the mucky lake bottom, and reached for the magic I was most confident in—my connection with animals.
Please—help!
Chapter Twenty-Two
Leila
My magic rushed across the Night Realm like a cresting wave as I reached out, searching for anything that could help me.
Please, please, please! I begged my magic. Find someone to help!
HELP WITH WHAT?
I felt the question in my soul rather than heard it with my ears, but the question was said in a
rusty, echoing voice that reverberated around my head.
Help me protect them!
Desperate, I glanced at my friends who had gathered on the lake shore.
Whatever I was talking to, I felt its heartbeat—slow, but achingly loud.
Help me protect everyone!
A few heartbeats passed.
The skull monster roared and started to lunge for me.
I began to shift my magic, preparing a ward, when the voice spoke deep in my bones again.
YOUR REASONING IS ACCEPTABLE.
Behind me, something burst out of the water.
I swung around and gaped at the creature that had surfaced. Its wedge shaped head topped a long, sinewy neck that stretched impossibly high.
The creature landed somewhere between dragon and snake with its scaly neck, and the winged fins/frill that extended across the top of its head, behind its gleaming horns.
As I watched, another head shot out of the lake, spraying water everywhere. Then another head surfaced, and another.
In the end, nine serpentine heads popped out of the lake—which was now significantly lower and left a huge ring of lakeshore dry with flopping fish.
The heads roared together as one, and lightning crackled around them as clouds covered the sky and thunder rolled.
A hydra.
I stared in shock.
Lord Linus said an ancient creature lived in the lake. It’s a hydra. It must be as old as the realm itself to be that big and to have that many heads!
The hydra’s necks and heads bobbed and wove in a soundless song as its abrupt appearance sent huge waves crashing across the lake. Each head was the size of a small house, and my brain was having a hard time processing that.
YES, LITTLE QUEEN, the hydra said in my soul. WE ARE HYDRA. WE WILL DEFEAT YOUR ENEMY.
The skull monster shrank back, then chattered a challenge to the hydra.
It was the last thing it did.
The hydra—like the lightning that danced up and down the scales of its necks—struck.
Two heads shot past me, so close that if I had flinched they would have taken a limb off.