Invincible: The Curse of Avalon #4

by Skye, Sariah

  “Is it—” Bash began but with a stern look I silently confirmed it by lying flat on the ground, trying to tuck the blade under me as much as I could; my invisible magic would have to do the rest and shroud it. I couldn’t see anything but countless feet, but it was enough. Through the guys’ feet, standing above me, I watched a dark, ominous “cloud” of shadow swirl in, and Nimue slowly took form nearby, looking immediately smug as she appeared.

  “Well, isn’t this a—” she began, with a twisted grin upon her face. Confused, she glanced around, her eyes landing in confusion at Mordred as he “fought” my father. “Mordred?”

  I could barely see, but I watched Mordred wink. “Yes, Mother? Now!” He shouted, and everyone sprang into action. He charged his mother, distracting her from Rhys who blinked in and reappeared behind her with Sir Gaiwan by his side. Bash rushed forward, tossing potions and powders at her feet to keep her motionless, and a handful of soldiers were around her in a split second, grabbing her limbs to hold her down. Mathias bent over me, and held out an arm, while the men surrounding me parted.

  “You? But, you were—” Nimue’s pretty face was wrought with confusion. I didn’t know if it was an act, because you just couldn’t trust her, but when she charged forward and shrieked in pain, wrenched backward by Mathias’s strong grasp and stopped by Bash’s expert wards.

  The sword hummed and brightened, and I held it out before me, pointing it in her direction with a wide grin on my face. The guys flanked my sides—Mathias and Bash on one side, Trystan and Xander on the other, and just a heartbeat behind us were the Round Table knights, combined with Percival, Lachlan, and a handful of the Avalonian rebels.

  “Gotcha,” I said deviously, with a playful wink, wondering if she was really, actually tricked.

  I was with her long enough to think she was, Excalibur said in my mind, as it hummed in my hand. But she’s always tricks up her sleeve, so be aware. When it is time, you’ll know. I’ll tell you.

  Understood, I said silently to the sword in confirmation. Grandmother, if you can hear me… please be ready.

  We are preparing, Priestess. We will be ready, Igraine replied, also inside my mind.

  “Ah, good show, Avalon. Very good show,” Nimue falsely praised. “I actually didn’t think you capable of something like this.”

  “I am not,” I replied, turning to acknowledge everyone in solidarity behind me, “but we are.”

  “Look, Mother. The Camelot and Avalon armies together, all here to fight you,” Mordred said, drawing his dark, gilded dagger and glaring at his mother. “I have had enough of what you’ve done to my kingdom. My home! You have made me feel unwelcome, unwanted and…” he flicked a quick glance at Rhys’ direction, “…wrong for the things I feel. For the things many feel. All to what? Open up a few portals?”

  “More than that child,” Nimue said, with a sharp laugh, struggling against Mathias’ grasp. She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Oh please. You won’t do anything.”

  “Um all of us together? Yeah, pretty sure we have you beat, Nimue,” I replied, staring her down and she replied with one of her own dark stares.

  “Part of the advantage you had was pinning us against each other, dividing everyone. But we are on the same side now,” Bedivere spoke with confidence. “I think you’ll find any of us ready to give our lives to rid the land of your evil schemes.”

  Nimue nodded slowly. “I am sure you’re right, Bedivere. The loyal, knight with his dark, shadowy armor.” She clicked her tongue and smiled. “Too bad, I really did like you the best.”

  “Oh shut up,” Rhys exclaimed in annoyance.

  Nimue tipped her head back and laughed. “I really love how you think you’ve bested me.” Trystan tensed up beside me when she opened her mouth to scream.

  “Hands on ears, everyone!” He ordered, and everyone began to move to shield their ears, including me when she clamped her mouth shut and blinked her eyes, several shadow forms popping up along side of her.

  She laughed maniacally when one of them shot a blast of magic out at Mathias and he was knocked back, struggling to catch his footing. Free, she outstretched her arms and one by one, row by row, her massive shadow army appeared behind her.

  “Rhys?” Mathias asked, his voice barely a whisper.

  “Yeah I know,” the wizard replied just as quietly.

  “Now the real fighting begins,” Lachlan said, his tone dire, and with a flick of her hand, her shadow army began to charge.

  Rhys shot a blast of magic into the air like a firework, and the Camelot army came out in full force from the palace walls, the Avalonian rebels charged from the hill, swords raised, yelling.

  “Here it comes,” Trystan said, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck to the side.

  “I sure hope this works,” Bash said quietly to me.

  “Me too,” I replied, as the armies clashed and connected in the middle of the field. With a laugh, Nimue was able to teleport away.

  But not for long.

  Chapter Fifty

  In the midst of the battle ensuing, all the guys, my father, Mordred and Rhys descended upon me, circling me and acting as humanoid shields with heavy weaponry: Mathias’ poisoned, spiked mace, Xander’s katana, soaked with a nasty dark poison that dripped from the blade’s edge, Trystan with a freaky-looking jagged dagger that he seemed to favor, Bash was armed with two shorter swords, one he twirled nimbly in his hand by the hilt. Mordred carried the dark metal blade with the twisted, gilded handle in his hand, Lachlan a long silver sword, and Rhys didn’t bother with weapons; his hands were weapon enough with his magic, poised in front of them, glowing a bright yellow as he narrowed his eyes and waited for anyone to charge us.

  “We need to find Nimue! It’s key!” I called out, flinching at all the sounds of the battle ensuing around us touched my ears. How did Mathias put up with this for so long? The metal clang against metal, the wrathful and determined battle cries, the scent of blood in the air and the sickening sound of blade meeting flesh, and the rattling noise of people taking their last breaths as they fell.

  “Where could she be?” Bash inquired, not removing his eyes from the never-ending battle field. “I know she couldn’t have gotten far but still—she could be anywhere!”

  “I don’t know!” I protested, flustered.

  I carried Excalibur in my hand, elbow bent and held before me, ready to go, but the guys hid me from… well, basically everything. I could only hear things, and peek around their shoulders or in between their arms. I gasped, watching a shadow fae battling with an Avalonian rebel. His attire was shorn and dirty but he fought well, disarming the shadow fae; it’s heavy, dark blade falling to the ground with a resounding metallic clink. Even though the sounds of battle, the screams, the smells rang out all around me, that was the one thing I could focus on; it was all I could see.

  The rebel smiled, briefly triumphant, until the fae raised his hand and his eyes widened, watching the long appendage shift into a long, rope-like tendril that shot out and made contact with the rebel’s throat, spinning in a split second around him, turning him blue and cutting off his air almost instantly.

  “No!” I cried out, horrified, Excalibur heating in my hand, reminding me it was there. With a courage I shouldn’t have but did, courtesy of the sword, I began to charge, blade at the ready forward to avenge the rebel.

  A heavy hand on my shoulder pulled me back instantly, and I stopped in my tracks—because I had no choice—to glower at its owner.

  Mathias had begun to grow in size and stature, but his eyes remained the same dreamy, deep brown as he narrowed them warningly. “Let them fight the battle, Ava… we will be fighting ours soon enough.”

  “But—” I began to protest but was cut off by a loud shout.

  Gaiwan from out of nowhere, leapt forward and without drawing a blade at his side, he outstretched his large hands, making contact with what would have been the shadow fae’s neck. It hissed and cried out in a pained yell, and the appe
ndage that was strangling the soldier dropped listlessly. One of the rebel soldiers, bolstered with the potion dumped into the water that made him more agile, stronger, and resilient squeezed his hands, attempting to cut off his air or whatever it was shadow fae respired with. It was probably methane or something gross, honestly.

  The rebel who’d been strangled sucked in a large gulp of air and fell to his knees, gasping to catch his breath. He should have been dead, but Bash’s potion for resilience obviously helped.

  I winced next, though, watching another fae turn and descend upon him, but with a yell Bedivere came spinning out of nowhere in his black-singed armor, knocking the fae in the head with the butt of his sword before deftly turning and kicking him down the ground. Bedivere’s fae had fallen out of existence, and Bedivere brushed off his hands on armor, snarling, before reaching out a hand to the soldier on his knees. Grateful, the rebel looked upon him with wide eyes and allowed Bedivere to help him up. With nods of understanding at each other, they backed up until the three of their backs were pressed against each other and they descended upon the next shadow fae—together.

  “Why is no one attacking us?” I asked loudly, continuing to cringe at the noisy sounds of battle ringing out behind me. Like being in a crowded room, all the noise and the action made me start to feel a bit dizzy, and my vision tunneled. Though it was fairly chilly out, my skin began to heat and turn sweaty and clammy. I still held the sword close to me, but my knees slackened, and I began to stumble to the ground.

  “Bash!” Mathias called and Bash quickly stepped over, closing rank, and before I could fall, a pair of huge, strong hands lifted me to my feet, and pulled me into him. I blinked, trying to look up and focus on his face. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded hesitantly. I really wasn’t and if the sword wasn’t with me, I knew I’d be truly freaking out from all the blood, battle, and chaos. But as it were, I felt strong and strangely confident.

  “We need to do something,” Mathias said, his voice sounding far away even though he was literally right in front of me.

  “We need to find Nimue and end this,” Mordred replied. I flinched, watching one of the guys—Xander—jump out and swing his sword with a deft jump, followed by a spinning kick. A sound of sucking flesh made me gag. I felt myself go woozy against Mathias, my arms fell at my sides and my hands relaxed. I was sure I’d drop the sword, but it remained even though my grasp wavered. The crowd—everything—was too much, but Mathias kept a large arm around me.

  “Mordred’s right! We need to find her! Trystan, fly up and head over the woods and check,” Bash ordered. I felt Trystan’s warm hand on my shoulder, and he may have kissed my cheek gently before I felt a rush of wind and Trystan had shifted and flew up into the air. “Rhys! You know the castle, right?”

  “Of course I do.” I couldn’t even chuckle at Rhys’ obvious irritation at Bash’s question.

  “Fine, go teleport through the castle—remain unseen—and if you find her, come back and tell us. Go!” Bash ordered, and I knew Rhys had disappeared without looking.

  “So, why aren’t they attacking us?” I asked again, my voice vibrating and trembling against Mathias as I held on to him for dear life. Fuck, I was having a panic attack. On a battle field. I’m completely fucking worthless, like I thought…

  No, you’re not priestess. You’re not seasoned for battle, but you are worth it. As long as you have me, you’ll never be worthless on a field. Just hold me close, sense my presence and I will fight through you. I’ve been laying low, to give you space, but now it is our time.

  Whatever you say, I responded to the sword in my head, unconvinced of course.

  “They aren’t attacking us because the army and the rebels’ main goal is to keep you safe, and they know your best defense is us,” Xander said, leaning back to speak softly at me, though his attention was partially diverted elsewhere, and I felt the ozone charge in the air as he summoned his magic. I don’t even know what he did with it from there, because I nearly passed out against Mathias, my eyes rolling back into my head.

  “You’re fine, beautiful girl… you’re fine…” Mathias said over and over again; he held me tight against him and I felt him tense suddenly.

  “Found her! She’s in the throne room; it’s down the center of the palace down the biggest corridor!” There was a popping sound as Rhys returned.

  Mathias grunted and I felt him nod with affirmation. “I’m not sure what to do, she’s… losing it.”

  “It’s the magic…Ava?” My father knelt at my side and looked up at me, tugging at my hand. My head felt heavy as I lifted it and regarded him. “Stick close to us, and we’ll get you there.”

  I’ve got you, Priestess. Now it is time to act.

  “No, I’m pretty sure I have got this…” I replied, without much conviction. The sword vibrated and hummed lighting up brightly, the effect making me flinch. It was much brighter than before, much stronger. Whatever was happening, we were nearing the end.

  It’s time Ava. I’m here. You are brave, you are strong… with me, you can do this. I promise. Do you believe in me?

  I do, I responded internally with more confidence than I felt.

  Good. I know you’re scared but in a few minutes this will all be over, and you can go home and live your beautiful life, and I can be free. We. Can. Do. This. You and I. We have this, I promise. Just put your trust in your protectors, your father, your friends and especially, in me. You were made to love, and I was made to fight… love is the strongest weapon of all, Ava. I know you know this. Together we are everything. Believe in me, as I believe in you.

  “I do…” I muttered quietly, with a determined nod, tightening my grip on the sword’s warm hilt.

  “Ava?” Lachlan asked, concerned as he slowly stood, eyeing my face with a tilt of his head. “My god… you look so much like…”

  I shook my head once, indicating that I didn’t want affections right now. Right now, the sword heated and pulsed its magic through me, sending its pure, blinding light up my arm, encompassing me in a bubble of strength and determination. I was letting it take over.

  Yes… almost there, Ava…

  “Yes…” I responded, raising the sword higher and it lit up bright like the sun and pulsed out a burst of magic that stunned everyone around us; the guys were even tossed back a half step, stunned by the pure magic the sword emanated.

  “Ava… the fuck? You’re… glowing…” Bash said in awe, and I turned to him and flashed him a big, sly smile.

  “Let’s go. We’ve got this. Back me up,” I replied, flinching; my voice a noticeably lower than it normally was, sounding a bit masculine.

  Xander flinched, and Trystan touched down at the same time, shifting out of his eagle form. “What the shite?”

  “You like saying that about me, don’t you?” I replied in the same deep voice that wasn’t my own; it was the sword. Trystan looked at me as if I’d lost my mind.

  It is okay, he’ll realize everything in a few minutes.

  The next few moments were an absolute blur; it could have been minutes, it could have been hours for all I knew. The light that shot out of the sword stunned the fae immediately around us. I felt myself spin deftly, like a seasoned warrior, and without fear or hesitation and with skill, I stabbed the blade right into the center of it, where it’s chest probably would be. It was a mix of humanoid, and incorporeal shadow but the center, like most of us, was its life force and a hit there was a devastating blow.

  It cried out and shrieked, trembling as it fell to the ground. Percival happened to be nearby watching the scene and began to assist, but I shook my head. “I’ve got this. I’ve ached for battle for centuries…”

  “Ava what the fuck?” Xander demanded. I ignored him briefly.

  Now, this is where you come in… use your Avalon magic…

  My free hand stretched out behind me, I felt the pulse in my mind and I willed it out, feeling my arm heat and tremble, the magic traveling down my bone and fl
esh, and I shot it forward, jutting my hand out in front of me, releasing it straight into the struggling form for the shadow fae, watching it explode with a cry of terror into a dark explosion of mist.

  “By the gods… ” Mathias said, incredulous.

  “Are you all right… Ava?” Rhys set a hand on my arm, arching an expectant brow. I knew he knew something was up with the sword but this? I knew he had no idea.

  “I’m fine, Merlin. Back me up, let’s go,” I replied, and he flinched briefly; I’d called him Merlin, not Rhys… but it wasn’t really me talking.

  “You heard her, men! Let’s go!” Rhys demanded, pushing his hands outward and releasing a blast of destructive, bright magic that shot out like a missile and exploded like a bomb, landing in the fray, knocking back a handful of shadow fae that blocked our way to the palace.

  It was a jumble of chaos and noise and with every body that resisted us, we struck. Rhys could stun one or two at a time, and like I’d been doing it my entire life I moved fluidly, stabbing or slicing when needed, kicking out with agility or turning fast and blocking with my other arm poised instinctually in front of me as the fae began to block our path, thicker and thicker, like they knew just what they were doing. They flanked us along all sides; Mathias grew into his larger, feral form, eyes rimmed with blood red as he jumped in the air, bringing his deadly mace down on several of them, Xander moving in just enough time with his blizzard magic to block the Camelot soldiers with a wall of ice before Mathias could hit them as well.

  Trystan was a bit more organized, grabbing a fae by the nondescript head, kicking it forcefully with a jab of his knee, bringing his elbow down with force; they staggered as he jabbed his ridged dagger in the heart of the devious form.

  Bash was a blur of steel and wind, spinning and kicking with expert agility, knocking two or more into each other and combining his two blades together to descend upon them, rendering them helpless when he cut down into them.