The Crom came in the next wave, on his eerie ghost steed. Rushing and snorting fire, the beast seemed every bit as determined to add them to its menu. Just as it would have reached their position, the hand bent around and curved up to form a huge beast of a man.
“You have no power here!” Though the voice was distorted in its inhuman growl and pitch, Urian still recognized it as Shadow’s.
The Crom pulled his horse up short, causing it to rear and paw fire at the hand. “This kerling belongs to me!” The rasping voice came from Brogan.
Shite! Urian cursed as he saw that Brogan’s eyes were now milky white with no iris or pupil whatsoever. Her skin was ice cold to the touch.
The Crom had obviously taken her over completely so that he could speak through her.
Blaise growled low in his throat. He must have realized what was going on. “You’re not taking her!”
“B-b-b-b …” Brogan choked, then fell to her knees to clutch at her throat. It was obvious the Crom was commanding her to speak Blaise’s name and she was refusing to give him the power of death over the mandrake.
Throwing her head back, Brogan let out a blood-chilling screech. She pounded the ground until her fist was bloody and bruised.
“Stop it!” Blaise shifted into his dragon’s body. He let loose a blast of fire toward the Crom.
Engulfed by the fire, he laughed through Brogan’s throat. Then threw his whip of bones and skulls toward Blaise. The head at the end of it opened its mouth as if it were laughing at the mandrake.
Shadow caught it and threw it back toward the horse and rider. “Leave here or I will dine on you both!”
Yanking his whip free of Shadow’s grasp, the Crom snapped it in the air, shooting sparks of fire in all directions. Sulfur rained down over them.
“I demand my property!” He cracked his whip for Brogan.
Urian caught it again and yanked the Crom from his horse. Faster than Medea could blink, Falcyn was on him.
He grabbed the Crom and pulled him up from the ground. “Renounce your claim on the kerling. Here and now. Give her her freedom or I will rid you of your essence for all eternity!”
The Crom struggled for several seconds until he realized that Falcyn wasn’t about to give. More than that, he came to the startling and truthful conclusion that Falcyn indeed had the means and ability to carry out his not-so-empty threat. “Very well, my lord. I give the kerling her freedom.”
No sooner did Brogan speak those words than she fell forward to lie in a heap. Blaise returned to his human form so that he could rush to her side and pull her into his arms.
“Ro?” His voice quivered from the strain of his fear. “Speak to me! Say something!”
Brandor knelt beside them. “Brogan, please don’t leave me alone!”
Still, she didn’t move. She didn’t even appear to breathe. Her face turned pale, then blue.
Blaise cupped her cheek and cradled her against his shoulder. “Speak to me, my lady. I cannot live knowing I caused you harm.”
When she didn’t respond, Blaise choked on a sob and lifted her up. Her head fell back while Brandor took her hand and kissed it as if it were unspeakably precious. Tears fled down his cheeks.
Urian knew that love firsthand. He’d felt it the day Tannis had died, and it sucked to the outer reaches of hell itself. He wanted to scream and rage against the cosmos. It wasn’t right or fair.
Damn them all!
Shadow swirled past them to Brogan and lightly touched her cheek.
No sooner did he withdraw his hand than her eyes fluttered open. Lost in their grief, neither Blaise nor Brandor saw it.
Not until Brogan pulled her hand from her brother’s grasp and sank it deep into Blaise’s pale hair. “They can take me by force and break every bone I have, but only you will ever have my heart, Blaise. For it alone is mine to give.”
Laughing and crying, he pulled her to his lips so that he could kiss her.
Brandor quickly withdrew from them. And though it was obvious he didn’t like to see his sister in the arms of another man, he didn’t say a word as he moved to stand beside Medea. Facing the opposite direction.
Like Urian.
Snorting at their ridiculous actions, Medea wiped at her eyes. She drew a ragged, grateful breath.
More grateful than words could express that she was alive, Urian glanced at her with Falcyn, then over to Brandor. “Don’t we feel like the odd ones out?”
Shadow manifested between them and draped his arms around their shoulders. “I feel your pain, my brothers. I’m always the oddest of the odd.” He darted his gaze around them. “So which of you assholes destroyed my rope?”
When they finally reached their destination, Shadow slowed down. “We’re here.”
With his powers, he cut another hole into a small room from his shadow realm. Shadow stayed back while they walked through. Then he joined them and sealed the rupture tightly closed.
Medea gaped. “How do you do that?”
“That’s like asking me how I breathe. I don’t know. I just think it and it happens.” Shadow gave her a sarcastic grin. “It’s magick.”
Rolling her eyes at his sarcasm, she shook her head at him. “You’re a sick bastard.”
“Always.”
Urian stepped around them to scowl at the smear of blood on the floor. Even though there was no color in this room where they were—everything appeared as shades of black and white, like an old movie—he knew the looks of that. The smell of it.
“You’re wounded?”
Shadow paused at Medea’s question but didn’t answer.
Then they all saw it. The huge, gaping wound in Shadow’s side that was partially concealed by his cape.
Urian took a step toward him. “Shadow?”
His eyes rolled back into his head as his legs buckled. He would have hit the ground hard had Falcyn not caught him and lowered him slowly to the floor.
Yet no sooner did he pull back than the door opened to show a small group of fey. The rasping of metal filled the air as the Adoni unsheathed their swords. An instant later, they attacked.
Urian manifested his sword and shield and charged them before he attacked. With his skills honed by thousands of battles, he drove the fey back to cover them.
Brogan stayed by Shadow’s side to defend him as they dealt with this newest assault.
Of course the fey sounded an alarm. ’Cause keeping quiet would just be too much to ask. Wouldn’t it? Damn villains.
Urian glanced to Falcyn. “Well, this wasn’t how I saw these events unfolding.”
Falcyn snorted at his sarcasm. “I knew better than to get involved with Daimons and Dark-Hunters. This is what I get for coming out of my hole.”
With a grimace, Medea lopped the head off her fey opponent, then turned toward Falcyn before she engaged another enemy. “Stop whining, dragonfly! Why don’t you shift and set fire to them? Make this a little easier on us? Eh?”
“Simple spatial awareness. If either Blaise or I changed right now, we’d kill the lot of you, as we’d take up this entire room and you’d be crushed beneath us. Still want me to shift, love?”
Medea flashed him a grin as she kicked her opponent back. “Please, don’t.”
“Thought you might feel that way.”
Just as they finished off their Adoni and began to make sure there weren’t more, the door flew open.
They turned as one solid group to face this new onslaught.
As tall as Urian, the newcomer was swathed in the gold and green armor of a fey guard. A thick leather hood covered his head. Muscled and fierce, he stood with the cocksure stance of a warrior who knew how to fight to the bitter end.
Yet he didn’t draw his sword.
Rather he held his hands out to his sides as if amused by them and their predicament.
Urian lifted his shield and prepared for a psychic attack.
Instead, laughter greeted them. “Bet if I sneezed right now, I’d send the lot of you
Falcyn growled deep in his throat. “Varian, you worthless bastard! Get in here. Shadow’s down.”
The humor died instantly while the man shut the door, then lowered his hood to expose his long dark hair.
“What happened?” Varian knelt by Shadow’s side.
Falcyn joined him there to help tend Shadow. “We were cornered by dire wolves.”
“Dire wolves or gwyllgi?”
“Gwyllgi,” Blaise answered.
Varian cursed. “Was the Crom with them?”
Blaise nodded without further comment.
Varian used his powers to strip Shadow’s leather armor away. Then he lifted the linen shirt to inspect the damage.
Urian cringed in sympathetic pain at the sight of the festering wound and all the other deep, ridged scars that marred Shadow’s cut and ripped abdomen and chest.
Again, Varian cursed—this time, more lewdly. “Damn, Shade. Can’t you ever do anything halfway once in a while? No, you don’t get a little wounded. You’ve got to get practically gutted.”
Falcyn sat back on his heels. “If you hold him, I can heal him.”
Varian stopped Falcyn. “If you’re planning to tap what I think you are, don’t. Apollo will feel it and jump all over you the minute you try.” He worked to stop Shadow’s bleeding. “I’ve got this. You have a mission to complete. But I should warn you …”
Urian’s gut twisted over that tone.
Varian’s gaze went to Blaise before he met Falcyn’s stare. “There’s a stairwell at the end of the hallway that will take you down to the catacombs. Be careful. They’re expecting all of you to come here and be stupid.”
Oh well, that they could do!
“Then far be it from us to disappoint them.” Falcyn saluted him with the key that he had taken from Shadow. “Thanks.” He rose and they left the chamber.
“Where does this lead?” Medea asked as they came up to a tunnel.
“Morgen’s garden.” Blaise’s tone was flat and emotionless in the dim light.
“I don’t understand. A garden underground?” No sooner had she finished the question than they slowed down.
Falcyn used his dragonfyre in his hand as a torch so that they could see what was around them.
The moment he raised his arm over his head and the light chased away the heavier shadows, Urian’s heart stopped.
And so did he.
This was it …
Holy shit. The “garden” was massive and lined with giant dragon statues that went on in an endless, eerie display. In every direction.
Brandor turned to look at Urian. “The light fog down here is from their breath. At least by that, we know they’re still alive even if they are frozen by Merlin’s spell.”
Medea frowned. “I don’t understand. If they’re frozen, how can they breathe fog?”
Though he was blind in his human form, Blaise glanced toward Brogan and then Medea before he answered. “The gas we exhale. It causes that. Even when we’re locked in by magick. Not sure why. Just a peculiar by-product.”
“Do we have to free them all?” she asked.
Before Urian could explode with his answer, Falcyn headed for the largest beast over on his right. “It’s the safest thing to do. That way, Morgen won’t have any to rouse and use against us.”
Urian was still too emotionally charged to speak. He was afraid if he did, he’d burst into tears.
Afraid if he moved, he’d fall to his knees.
Where was Xyn? He was desperate to find her.
Blaise left Brogan’s side as he felt his way through the darkness. “I’m not sure how to use my father’s ring to awaken them. Do you know?”
Falcyn reached out to take it from him.
Just as their fingers brushed, the dragon nearest them opened its eyes and growled. Falcyn pulled back as the beast by his side rose to do battle. Blaise took his arm and fisted his hand in his sleeve to stop him. “Don’t! That’s Maddor.”
“Maddor …” The name came out in an anguished breath. Maddor was Falcyn’s son who’d been taken from him.
Finally in control of himself and able to focus on something, Urian splayed his hand against Falcyn’s chest to stop him from approaching his child. “They have him pinned.” He jerked his chin toward the chain that held Maddor in place. “I’m betting if you free the dragons, it’ll kill him.”
Because that was the kind of nasty tactics the gods specialized in. They were nothing if not cruel.
The chain ran straight into Maddor’s chest and no doubt through his heart.
Damn Apollo for this!
And that wasn’t all. He was muzzled, too. That combination of cruelty would have made Maddor insane. No dragon did well in captivity. Not even a mandrake. They were meant to roam free, not be bound in such a manner.
Stepping past Urian, Falcyn reached to touch his son’s scales. “Maddor, calm yourself. We’re here to help.”
With a fiery hiss, Maddor lunged at him so that Falcyn couldn’t make contact.
Maddor lashed at Blaise with his tail.
Falcyn barely pulled Blaise back before Maddor pierced him with a spike. “Stop! You don’t want to harm us.”
Of course I do. It’s your fault I’m here! I intend to kill you both!
Falcyn winced at a truth he couldn’t change. “I know and I’m sorry for that.”
You’re about to be even sorrier those three seconds before I kill you!
Suddenly, the floor rumbled under their feet. Like a 6.0 magnitude earthquake …
“Blaise? What the hell is going on here?”
“No idea. Flying hell-monkeys, maybe?”
Urian glanced around the room, trying to find the source. They should be so lucky. Instead of dramonk demons being unleashed, the cracks in the stone widened and a greenish smoke spiraled out. It was as if the entire dungeon were alive and moving.
No, not moving.
Breathing. That was exactly what it felt like. Smelled like. The way the floor and walls moved was in time to someone’s intake of breath. In and out. Seismic. Rolling.
Jarring.
Urian sneered as he caught a whiff of some foul sulfuric stench. “Someone tell me these are vapors like the Delphian oracle used to get high on before she mumbled gibberish.”
Medea shook her head. “Sorry, little brother. I actually visited her once. This ain’t it.”
True to her prediction, the smoke coiled into fierce warriors, complete with armor.
And swords.
They had a lot of swords.
“Damn it!” Urian summoned his sword and shield again. “We cannot catch a break.”
“Hey, I gave you an easy way out,” Falcyn reminded him. “You could be home right now, watching Survivor. But no, you chose to be here.”
“What can I say? I’m an idiot. I’d blame it on the fact that I come from a long line of them, but my mom and dad would kick my ass for the insult. So I’ll blame Stryker for raising me among them. Anyone have a clue who and what these assholes are?”
“It’s the dungeon, enchanted to ensure their victims will live no matter what’s done to them. Once they’re finished with the torture, they take the lifeless body and add it to the catacombs. But the by-product of that cruelty and magick is that the dungeon absorbs the tortured soul and holds on to it forever. It makes the soul a part of it. After a time, l’âme en peine bonds with the others that are trapped here until they become one single entity.”
“Okay.” Falcyn glanced around at the forming warriors. “So they’re ghosts?”
He shook his head. “No. The nature and strength of the residual magick combines with the souls. Instead of making individual ghosts, they become one single beast. Lombrey de la Mort.”
Oh, just awesome. And here Urian had thought that Apollymi had the lion’s share of fun toys. No, leave it to the fey bitch queen to have something known as the Death Shadow.
Falcyn stared at him. “Are you telling me that we’re facing Shadow’s evil twin?”
Brandor laughed. “His prince underling, actually. If Shadow were here, he could control Lombrey and force him into retreat. Or at least order him to stand down.”
Why did those words make him sick to his stomach?
“Without him?” Urian asked.
Glancing around at the numerous warriors the darkness was spawning, Brandor sighed. “We’re screwed. Lombrey’s a nasty bastard. Filled with the screams and righteous agony of a million innocent victims. They say it’s driven him mad and so he attacks everyone who comes into his domain. Indiscriminately.”
Medea scowled. “Then how does Shadow quell him?”
“Hell if I know. For that matter, no one knows for sure. Only that he goes without fear into wherever it is that Lombrey lives and emerges victorious.”
Falcyn growled in frustration. “Well, that’s … fucking useless.”
Urian sighed heavily. They had to find some way to awaken Xyn. Get Maddor free without killing him. Awaken the other dragons.
And stop Lombrey from attacking them.
Or killing them.
Urian felt sick to his stomach.
We’re doomed.
Falcyn coughed, “Um, guys, I have an idea that I’m pretty sure you’re gonna hate.”
Hours later, Maddor stepped back in uncertainty. “I-I don’t understand.”
“It’s true, Maddor. At least I think you’re Maddor.” Provided the Crom was still in Maddor’s dragon body and the gods hadn’t screwed with them again.
’Cause that was how their luck was running. Ever the rubric of “solve one problem and create another.”
“Falcyn sent me here to watch over you. I’m the one who goaded Medea into going to Falcyn, hoping he’d be able to get to you and help you out of here. I didn’t count on his overreaction that would result in her death. Guess I should have.”
Urian’s breath caught in his throat as he heard that unexpected, sweet lilting voice that he’d thought was lost to his dreams.
Xyn.
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