The Elemental Trilogy Box Set

by Toni Cox

  Blaid spent the night, and the worst of the storm, within the shelter of the dark forest. Yet he had not slept, but sought out the warriors he freed from the Vampyre camp. They had scattered into the undergrowth of the forest and it took him most of the night to track them down. It had then taken the rest of the night to convince them they had nothing to fear from him. They had also felt the fear that gripped the camp; and had ultimately allowed him to free the prisoners; but they assumed he had been the cause.

  With fifty-four men and women, he now stepped out of the forest and onto the plains. He knew the sun was rising to the east, but the dark storm clouds prevented any light from shining through. They were all wet, cold, and tired, and they had a long way to go to reach Greystone. Even Lilith’s spirit seemed subdued for the moment, following close behind him, her head hanging low.

  He desperately wanted to tell the warriors to make their own way to Greystone, so he could ride there with haste. One look at Lilith told him that he could not do that to her. They had been going for almost twenty-four hours, riding hard and fighting, without rest or food. She was as exhausted. Yet he fretted about Maia and hoped she was with Midnight. Somehow, he knew the Vampyres had not breached Greystone yet; surely, he would have felt it. The storm had been terrible, but it was letting up now. It sill rained and thunder rolled overhead, but the winds that had scoured the land had abated and lightning was less frequent. The breach would come and it would come soon.

  They marched on, as fast as their tired and battered bodies would allow. They encountered no resistance along the way, no Vampyres. Yet, as they marched, their numbers swelled. Legions that had been battling to the south, two Regiments involved in fighting near the forest and an assortment of Night Watch, Sentinels, and Scouts; all were returning to the Gate. Some wore the colours of Rathaés, others hailed from Tarron Heights and Shadow Hall, but he noticed even the crests of Braérn and Alea Yll on some breastplates. Soon he was at the head of an army almost a thousand strong. He wondered how he had managed to find himself in this position. He was no Commander. He did not lead people. Yet, they all united behind him, trusting him for the time being.

  It was a tenuous trust. Some still regarded him as the enemy, no doubt having heard the stories about him, and he relied heavily on the accounts of the fifty-four he rescued. To him, it did not matter what they thought of him. His only concern was to reach Maia and help her save her nation. If, in the process, he could win favour with her father so that he might be with her, then that would be reward enough.

  They marched another few miles before he noticed that the rain had abated to a drizzle and the light was strengthening. He looked up into the sky and saw the clouds thinning. A heavy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach; the time had come.

  He picked up the pace, encouraging the already tired warriors to give even more. They lengthened their strides, their tired legs pounding through the rain-soaked earth. A nervous energy rippled through Blaid and his entire body tingled. It felt as if the air was electrically charged, as if he was walking through a lightning storm. The hairs on his arms stood erect and he started to shake. He knew the feeling; he had felt it before. Maia’s life was in danger and he needed to get to her now.

  Turning to the nearest Commander, he let him know he was riding ahead, they were now only about three miles from Greystone, but before he could utter the words, a dull thud shook the earth, followed closely by a mild shock wave. They all stopped, staring towards the north, wondering what had happened.

  Blaid knew.

  The Gate had finally been breached.

  The meeting with the Commanders went well. As the morning progressed and the weather improved, so their forces moved into their final positions. This time their strategy was different. Thala Yll’s Dragon Guard and Regiments formed a circle around Greystone, about a hundred paces between them and the stones. Behind them were the archers, ready to take out any that slipped past the dragons. Everyone else, on horse and on foot, guarded the rear. The war machines, each able to shoot up to ten bolts at a time, had been placed in different locations; each location chosen in such a way that the machines could be used without inflicting injury to their own men.

  The main difference, however, was that Midnight would be their first line of defence. He paced the space between the stones and the Battle Dragons, ready to rain down dragon fire on any that came through the Gate. Without having to worry about Elves getting in the way, Midnight could unleash the full torrent of his might and incinerate them as they came through. As per Silas’ calculations, Midnight would have about five minutes between intervals. Each time, up to forty Vampyres could come through simultaneously. Midnight confirmed that he could summon his fire in rapid succession, but was unsure of how many times he could do it. If the Vampyre army was indeed forty thousand strong, that would mean a thousand blasts of dragon fire.

  Maia worried about him. He would try, even if it killed him. She sat now on a borrowed horse, alongside her father, Silas, Commander Ridgewell and Commander Willowbay. They were on the same rise that the command tent had been set up on and had a good view of the battlefield before them.

  Silas had been given instruction to stay with Maia once the battle commenced. Her father did not want her anywhere near the fighting.

  “We need you to heal the injured,” had been his reasoning.

  Even from this distance, Maia could hear Midnight’s impatient rumble. It was a sound so deep that it was almost imperceptible. The horses all twitched nervously. Maia watched in awe as her father’s plan came together. It looked like a well-rehearsed play; all the pieces melding to form a whole. Midnight circled the stones, the other dragons stood still all around him, the archers were already in position and the rest moving up behind them. They would be ready; it would not be long now.

  Then, Maia felt the air change. Something was wrong. There was a static charge in the air that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand erect and her heart fluttered with the terrible premonition brought with it.

  “Father, something is not ri…”

  BOOM!

  Maia watched in horror as Greystone exploded. For a brief moment, she saw a flash of light and the stones broke and tumbled, then the shock wave swept over them, flattening everything in its path. Dragons, horses, and warriors alike were all brought to their knees by the wave. Maia found herself on the ground; her horse fled; eyes closed and holding her ears, which were bleeding from the shock wave.

  When she opened her eyes again, there was pandemonium all around. The Gate lay broken on the plain before her. Vampyres swarmed through; at least a hundred at a time. Midnight seemed to have recovered from the blast and did his utmost to burn as many as he could before they reached the army, which was still trying to recover from the shock wave.

  “It should not be possible,” Silas whispered beside her, also horseless.

  She looked at him, wondering why he was whispering, but then realised she could not hear the sounds of battle from below either. There was a loud ringing in her ears and she could barely hear Silas as he continued talking. She looked around, but her father and his Commanders were gone.

  “What is happening?” she yelled at Silas, unsure if he could hear her.

  In reply, he grabbed her by the arm and led her away. She resisted him, but he was strong and determined. They descended the rise on the far side, away from the battle. Once out of sight, he stopped.

  “I don’t know how they did it,” Silas said, and Maia could hear him better. “Somehow they have managed to enlarge the portal. That is old magic. They should not possess the knowledge of it.”

  “Silas, we have to go and help them,” she pleaded.

  They heard Midnight roar in the distance. The sky beyond the rise was bathed in red light. The air was filled with screams and howls.

  Silas took her by the arms and looked at her. “Are you all right?”

  “I am fine. We need to go.”

  “Then let us …”

&
nbsp; “Lady Maia,” Rothea suddenly shouted behind them.

  They turned at the sound of her voice. Maia blinked at the sight before her and then Wolf ran to her, jumped up and licked her face. She ran her fingers through his fur, baffled as to what he was doing here and looked at the people. Rothea and Aaron leading an army of Night Watch and Sentinels, their horses caked in sweat and mud. Rothea raised a hand and someone came forward, leading Fire.

  “We found him along the way. I thought you might have need of him yet. What has happened? We felt the earth shake beneath us.”

  Maia gave Wolf another pat and then stepped forward to mount her horse, falling in beside Rothea. She gave Aaron a brief nod. He appeared determined. Another warrior gave up his horse for Silas.

  “The Gate has been breached. The Vampyres are coming through faster than should be possible. Midnight is trying to hold them off, but I fear there are simply too many of them. We need to ride now.”

  Without another word, they urged their horses forward. They crested the rise and then galloped down towards the battle. The scene that greeted them took Maia’s breath away. In the short time she had been hiding behind the rise, Vampyres had overrun the battlefield. In the centre, Midnight was creating a pyre with the bodies of Vampyres he burned, but there were so many, most of them slipped past him. Werewolves besieged every Battle Dragon. It seemed that they had been ordered to specifically target the dragons and take them out of the equation. The archers were shooting their arrows, felling the Vampyres as they came on, but more and more came through, taking the places of the ones who had gone before.

  Maia tried to see where her father was, but in the chaos before her, everyone looked the same. The fear she saw on the warriors faces after the blast had been replaced with determination. Everyone charged into the fight, Maia joined them, Rothea and Aaron by her side. Wolf ran ahead, snarling. She thought she should be worried about Aaron and Wolf, but they looked as fierce and determined as any of the other warriors around her. Besides, they needed every man - and wolf - they could get.

  There was a moment, just before they entered the melee, that Maia had a perfectly clear picture of her surroundings. Everything slowed down, the scene laid out in detail before her. Midnight, huge and magnificent, bathed in a mantle of his own fire. Battle Dragons, most of them rider-less, tearing into Werewolves, ripping them to pieces. Archers, still trying to hold their formations even in the face of the onslaught, loosening arrows faster than the eye could count. Warriors, on foot and on horseback, fighting with swords, knives, lances and all manner of weapons, their faces grim. Low-ranking Vampyre soldiers, with their grotesque, angular faces, and taught skin, attacking mercilessly. Generals, more refined than their lower-ranking counterparts, fighting with equal ferocity, slaying everything in their path. Things were so clear to Maia that she saw every drop of blood, every slash of a sword, every arrow fired. Then the world swam before her as a wave of nausea suddenly overwhelmed her and she almost toppled out of the saddle.

  A strong hand grabbed her arm and steadied her. Rothea nodded to her, a question in her eyes. Maia steeled her resolve and then they were upon the enemy. Fire screamed as they met their first Werewolf, but Maia’s Twin Blades sliced its throat before it had a chance to do her horse damage. Rothea shouted beside her, voicing her battle rage. Maia had lost sight of Aaron and Wolf, but Silas was still fighting beside her. In the midst of battle, she was unable to tell where anyone else was. All she saw now was the enemy in front of her.

  On and on they came, an endless stream of creatures from another world, intent on taking theirs. The smell of burning flesh and fur choked the air, as did the smell of blood. Maia lost all perception of time as she wielded her weapons, concentrating only on the next foe ahead of her. If she thought about it too much, it would debilitate her. She wished Blaid was here, taking from her the affliction that assailed her when she killed.

  She felt herself become weaker and weaker. She had lost count of how many she had slain, but it took its toll on her. Her vision started dimming and her arms became heavy, but there was no respite. A Werewolf opened a gash on Fire’s rump and Maia had to rally to defend her horse. Then two Generals singled her out and, had it not been for Rothea, she would not have had the strength to fight them off alone. Everything became a blur; she felt the pain of everyone around her, felt every bite, every cut with the sword, every arrow piercing skin.

  Maia knew she had nothing more to give. She swayed in the saddle as Fire stumbled, his wound weakening him. She turned to look at the extent of his injury, but the sight of the large chunk of flesh hanging off his rear was the final straw. Everything around her went black and then she felt herself fall.

  Strong arms caught her just before she hit the ground. The tenderness with which they held her brought her back to the present and she opened her eyes to look into Aaron’s worried face. Wolf, Silas and Rothea surrounded her, protecting their downed princess. It looked hopeless, they were surrounded. Maia thought it could not be any worse, but then a sound so terrible filled the air, that even the Vampyres around them cringed in fear for a moment.

  The sound rallied her; she had never heard her dragon this angry, nor in this much distress. Still leaning on Aaron, she looked up into the grey sky and what she saw there frightened her more than all the Werewolves and Vampyres combined.

  The blast temporarily disorientated him, but he shook it off. The force with which the shattered rocks pelted his skin angered him beyond measure. All around him the vermin that meant Bright-Shining-Silver-Star harm swarmed over the fallen rocks. Outraged, he shot a blast of fire over the advancing creatures and the rancid smell of their burning flesh delighted him. Their screams were music to his soul. He flew around the centre of destruction, unleashing his dragon fire on anything that moved. There were so many of them, swarming all around him. Wise-And-Older-Than-The-Hills had warned him that there would be many. He struggled now to contain them to the centre and many of them escaped his wrath. However, the sounds of battle behind him infuriated him even more and he concentrated his fire, roaring as the flames burned up his throat and engulfed the vile creatures before him.

  Soon, spears were flung at him, pricking his skin, irritating him. He turned, trampling, and burning the despicable devices the Vampyres had brought with them. Anything else in his path was obliterated in the process. He was starting to enjoy himself.

  Then he felt the distress from Bright-Shining-Silver-Star. She was in danger and feeling ill. He turned, taking out a group of creatures that had just come through the Gate with his tail. Scanning the battle before him, he searched for her. The mate of his soul was in danger. He had to find her. Everywhere he looked, her kind was battling the vermin. She would not take kindly to him killing her people, but he was prepared to face her wrath later, if it meant saving her life now.

  He located her and crouched low to take flight. He had just spread his wings, when something heavy settled on his back and a burning pain shot through his body where long talons ripped through his hide. He screamed first in pain and then in anger. What kind of creature was this that could inflict such damage to him?

  Folding his wings, he dropped to the ground and rolled. The creature screeched as it scrambled out of the way.

  “Dragonzzz,” it hissed at him.

  Midnight looked at the creature before him. Neither bat, nor dragon. A third of his own size. Red as blood, with a black spiny ridge along its back. Two legs to walk on with sharp talons. Two wings to fly with, tipped with long claws. Its ugly maw was a mess of needle-like teeth. It hissed at him again as they circled each other.

  Memories centuries old; memories of his ancestors; rose to the surface. It was an age-old foe, long forgotten. It was a Lava Bat. They were native to Naylera, known to roost in volcanoes. Besides the Werewolves, they were the only other fully sentient animals on that planet. They were demented; if the stories were to be believed. He searched its soul now, found it to be mildly intelligent, but with an undercurrent
of vicious thoughts that made his spikes stand on end.

  As the creature attacked, he had no time to wonder what had made it side with the Vampyres. The Lava Bat rose into the air and launched the attack. Midnight met him half way, unleashing a stream of fire so intense, the people below screamed.

  “Firezzz,” it taunted him, in no way harmed by the flames.

  Higher and higher they rose, circling. The Lava Bat used the talons on its hind legs to scratch at his belly. Midnight tried to grab hold of the creature with his front legs, so he could bite its neck, but the Lava Bat was agile. Again and again, it managed to avoid him. He screamed his fury at the beast, but it just hissed at him as he chased it through the sky. They twirled and dove, rose and plummeted, each seeking the advantage. Midnight was learning its manoeuvres and flight patterns. It might be fast and agile, but predictable. At the next turn, he angled his body and lashed out with his tail, slicing through one of the creature’s wing membranes with his caudal spade. The creature screeched and flapped about for a moment, adjusting to the tear in his wing. Midnight took the chance and went on the attack. He took hold of it with his claws and while it struggled in his grasp, he bit down hard on its leathery neck. Immediately, acrid blood filled his mouth, burning his tongue and he had to let go.

  The Lava Bat flapped pitifully for a moment longer, before it could sustain flight no longer. Midnight watched as it dropped to the ground.

  “Dragonzzz.”

  He whipped around at the sound. Two more Lava Bats hovered right behind him. The one to his left went on the attack right away, going for his underbelly. He warded it off with a downward swipe of his tail, but then the second creature was on his back, digging its talons into his hide and sinking its teeth into his neck.

  He arched his neck, erecting his spikes in the process. The Lava Bat screeched, but it held on. The other one had taken advantage of his momentary distraction and lacerated his softer belly skin with its sharp claws as it flew by beneath him.