The confusion of it all threatened to make his head pound, and he had matters of literal life and death to worry about. Maybe he should focus on those for a while. You know, at least until they got his sister back.
“I’m certain I could use all the help you can give,” he said, trying to steer the group, and himself, back to topic. “Most of the magic I’ve managed so far has been more accidental than anything. I doubt that’s going to cut the mustard when we start trying to save the world.”
“No, it won’t.” Wynn schooled her face into more serious lines. “Work on it while you have the chance. Ash and Dag can explain the basics, and Kylie should be able to demonstrate so you can see what they’re talking about a little easier. Tomorrow night will be the big leagues.”
“The World Cup,” he said, mustering a smile. “Remember, you’ll be in Ireland this time, not America. We respond better to football metaphors.”
“As long as you respond, that’s what matters.” The witch paused to draw a deep breath, then stared into the camera with serious hazel eyes. “You all ready for this?”
Drum winced. “Does the answer to that really matter?”
“No,” Dag said, his frown almost as deep as his voice. “Ready or not, the battle approaches.”
Ash nodded and reached out to squeeze Drum’s hand. The move surprised him, but it pleased him more. He squeezed back.
“Then,” she said, firmly, “we will simply have to win.”
Chapter Twenty-five
As nightfall approached, Ash wondered whether a colony of native bats had taken up residence inside her lower abdomen. She had heard of the human expression regarding butterflies in one’s stomach, but these felt much too big for such delicate insects. Bats felt much more appropriate.
The sensation proved distracting for two reasons: first, because she was a Guardian, created for battle, and endowed with the speed, strength, and abilities of her race for the sole purpose of defeating her enemies, and therefore had no business allowing nerves to beset her before a conflict; and second, because the source of her internal fluttering crouched at her side behind a thicket of bushes that provided a view of the opening to the underground caverns, preparing to enter combat at her side.
The very thought of it made her bats flip and flop around like circus trapeze artists working without a net. She knew there couldn’t be a net, because one of them dove so low, she almost looked at her feet to see if it was hopping around below her now. The thought of Drum in danger tightened her chest and made her hand itch for the feel of the haft of her axe against her palm. She had to be patient, though. The narrow crevice into the cavern restricted the Guardians from assuming their natural forms until they passed through into the darkness.
Into the Darkness.
Maybe she should rephrase that?
“We can see nothing from here,” Dag said, and even at barely above a whisper, his voice rumbled through the air. “We will have no choice but to approach in the open and assume the enemy will attack to prevent us from entering the cavern. The best way to avoid projectile fire is to take a nonlineal path to the entrance.”
“Duck and weave,” Drum muttered. “Sounds like the best way to avoid a soaking while doing the washing up with my sisters.”
“I might be able to throw up a shield between us and them, but I can’t be certain how long it would last until I see exactly what we’re up against. You’ve mentioned hhissih and shadelings, which make sense for mindless guards at an entrance point, but we can’t be sure that’s all they would throw at us.” Wynn rummaged through a giant tote bag she had brought with her through the portal from Chicago. “Knowing the details always helps.”
Ash could not be certain what the witch carried, but she could smell dried herbs, exotic spices, and a host of other, less pleasant, things wafting from within. Obviously, the Midwestern Warden believed in being prepared for anything, from minion attacks to barbecue season.
Knox shook his head and placed a hand atop his mate’s. “Save your energy, little witch. While we will be vulnerable on our approach, the narrowness of the entry limits the number of attackers who may take us on without exposing themselves by exiting the cave entirely. If we go hard and fast, we may be able to push through them and be inside before they can do us much damage.”
“Ooh, in that case, I think I can help,” Kylie said, almost bouncing in place. “Over the last few months, I’ve worked out tweaks to a couple of the spells you guys taught me. I think I have the perfect one for this occasion. Can I try it out? Pretty please with babka on top?”
Dag frowned down at her. “What do you have planned?”
“Just watch. Cover me while I throw it, then run in through the entry as soon as you see my arm go up. Got it?
Trust me. You’ll love it.” Kylie grinned even wider and gathered her legs underneath her. “I call it bowling for bad guys.”
“Huh?”
The petite Warden didn’t answer. She just rose to her full height (which was barely higher than the top of the bushes) and stepped to the side until she had a clear view of the narrow crevice. Then she drew her hand back at her side as if she really were preparing to throw a bowling ball, only instead of a chunk of polyurethane and resin, she tossed a perfectly round, pale green orb of glowing energy. It traveled a straight path an inch or two above the ground directly toward the cavern entrance. When it hit the darkness inside, it exploded in a blinding shock of light and concussive power and raised a chorus of unholy screeching from whatever lurked inside.
“Strike!” Kylie crowed, throwing her hands above her head and doing a victory spin even as the Guardians launched into action. They flew across the space to the cave and flung themselves in after the spell, the forward charge of their little army.
Ash burst into the cavern after Knox and before Dag, squinting against the light of Kylie’s magic still radiating around them. She shifted before she even drew breath, and had a split second to be grateful when a set of razor-sharp claws tried to slice her head from her shoulders. Her thick, stony hide kept the strike from cutting too deep, and her axe hand came up to bury the pointed shaft in the chest of her attacker.
Had the entrance been guarded again by shadelings, she would have cut straight through a layer of mist, but instead, the metal spear tip lodged in flesh as a ghoul shrieked in pain and anger. Quickly, Ash turned to face the things and shoved forward, clearing the entrance to allow the others room to maneuver. Once clear, she yanked her weapon free and spun the haft to bring the larger of the two blades around, cleanly beheading the creature.
What goes around comes around, she thought. Sometimes quite literally.
She took a quick look about the upper cavern and noticed immediately that a dull, red glow illuminated the entire area just enough that she thought the humans might be able to function inside without accidentally taking aim at each other. That was the good news. The bad news was that the glow came from the opening of the stairwell down to the second cave, which seemed to pulse with bright crimson magical energy and the flickering of roaring fires. Something very big was going on in the lower chamber, and she didn’t need three guesses to figure out what that was. Maeve would be down there, and about a hundred assorted ghouls and at least two nocturnis currently blocked the path to her.
Time to get to work.
Three ghouls charged her together, but Ash didn’t wait for them to strike. She sprang forward and met them halfway, her axe swinging in a wide, deadly arc that cleaved the first one in half like a rotten apple. It wouldn’t have surprised her in the least to find a worm wriggling away inside. The force of her blow embedded her blade in the rib cage of ghoul number two, and she planted a foot against its hip for leverage to yank free.
Ghoul number three seized the opportunity to leap on her back, clawed hands scrabbling at her throat. Reaching behind with her free hand, Ash closed her fingers around the back of its neck, digging her talons into flesh, and drove her spiked axe handle into the thing’s
abdomen. Then, she took advantage of the way pain briefly loosened its grip to flip it off over her head into the ranks of its fellow creatures.
She raised her weapon to face another attack, and another, and another. Every time she thought she was about to fight free of the advancing hoard, more ghouls would charge out at her. It almost seemed as if they possessed an infinite supply of reinforcements.
Well, duh.
“Dag!” she shouted, razing a couple of ghouls who stood in her path. “They are summoners!”
She saw the Guardian’s eyes widen and turn on the two dark-robed figures standing on either side of the stairwell opening. Both had their hands raised, and a low chant issued from the space beneath their hoods. Any humans with magical talent who joined the Order of Eternal Darkness immediately received training in the use of Dark magic, but only the most powerful and advanced of these learned the black art of summoning servants to do their bidding.
Most cells of nocturnis only had one or two of the specially trained sorcerers in their ranks, but this one seemed to have enough that it could put two on guard at the entrance to the big dance below. That didn’t bode well for the next stage of battle.
But they could worry about that later. First, they had to finish round one, and that meant cutting off the enemy’s supply train.
“Per lucem!” Ash shouted, raising her axe high before she plunged relentlessly through the mass of screeching, clawing, biting ghouls to reach the cowards behind.
“Per lucem!” her brothers echoed, and she knew they had fallen into a formation that allowed at least one of them to guard her back as she sought out the bigger foe.
Another voice joined the call, one lighter but equally masculine. She heard Drum roar out the battle cry and watched the cavern light up around a particularly charged bolt of golden energy. She didn’t stop to see how many of the ghouls he had taken down, but she smiled fiercely as she closed in on her targets.
They knew she was coming. Between her shout and the path she blazed among the mass of attacking ghouls, she would have been hard to miss. So she wasn’t surprised when one of the pair ceased his chant and turned to face her, pointing his palm in her direction.
“Zulmaht q’uhn!” The sorcerer shrieked, and a narrow razor of rusty crimson magic sliced through the air in front of her throat.
Really? Was this one new? Because any half-trained nocturni should understand that a large portion of the Guardians’ power against the Darkness came from their ability to resist magic. It sort of counted as one of their calling cards. The sorcerer should know his spell attack would be useless.
Still, instinct and reflex had her moving, raising her axe to deflect the beam of energy into the back of a nearby ghoul. The nocturni hissed and cast again, and Ash would have rolled her eyes if she hadn’t seen his hand shift at the last moment and the stream of Dark energy he channeled skip past her to target an opponent at her back. Assuming the twit stupid enough to try his useless gambit against Dag or Knox, she continued her forward assault and brought her axe down on the cultist’s head. Only the Demon worshipper had erected a shield of energy around himself that deflected the blade at the last minute, and she growled her displeasure even as a voice behind her shouted in pain.
A very familiar voice.
Ash half spun in time to see Drum fall to the floor, one hand clutching his opposite shoulder, the same shoulder that had been recently burned by another nocturni’s spell fire. Her Warden landed hard on his knees, and the ghouls closed in around him, scenting weakened prey. She cried out, ready to leap after him, ready to cut through anything standing in her way, but before she could move, something large and fierce flew across the cavern to hover above the fallen combatant and tear into the things that threatened him. He swung his double-ended blade through the air with ruthless precision, keeping the slavering ghouls well back from Ash’s mate.
She would find a way to thank him later. Right now, she needed to focus on the sorcerer.
The nocturni’s defensive magic had turned away her weapon, but it should not be able to turn away a Guardian itself. Perhaps this situation called for a more personal touch.
Slinging her axe into a harness at her back, Ash freed her hands and flashed her fangs a split second before she launched herself at the hooded figure.
She caught him off guard. Guardians moved fast, their reflexes and speed far greater than that of a human, but when you added the tailwind generated by a hard beat of enormous wings, the warrior could appear as little more than a blur to even the most observant of eyes. In other words, Ash had crossed the cultist’s magical defensive wall and wrapped her hands around his head before his brain received notice of the incoming attack. She stared into the eyes beneath the hood for a single instant before a single wrenching movement snapped his evil neck. He collapsed to the floor and remained unmoving.
One down, one to go.
The battle continued to rage around her. Kylie and Wynn threw spells in blasts of pale, untainted magic, while Dag swung his hammer through wave after wave of attacking ghouls. Knox remained resolutely on guard above Drum’s kneeling figure.
Ash turned her gaze to the second summoner. He had seen his comrade fall, and just as she had expected, he ceased his bid to reinforce the diminishing numbers of ghouls in favor of protecting his own life.
He appeared marginally smarter than the first sorcerer in that he didn’t bother to try to hurt her with magic. Instead, he went straight for the Guardians’ most vulnerable spot and turned on the Wardens.
Ash expected another cry of pain to echo through the chamber, but she and the cultist were both due for a surprise, it seemed. Her gaze followed the figure’s magical strike just in time to see it bounce off a sheet of pale green energy between the nocturni and where Kylie stood a few feet ahead of Wynn. The magic seemed to quiver and ripple like a curtain of moving water or burning flame.
“Boo-yah!” Kylie shouted from behind the barrier. “If there’s one thing a computer geek can do better than anyone, you schmuck, it’s put up a firewall! So bite me!”
Fangs flashing in a savage grin, Ash leaped forward.
She saw the sorcerer stumble backward, his hands waving in motions she guessed would summon another defensive force, either more ghouls or something even worse. She had no intention of allowing him to finish.
Her axe flew, a single straight blow that shot the weapon forward to the end of its shaft and brought the edge of her blade within slashing distance of the muttering figure. It took a moment for each of them to realize she had hit. Ash blinked into the dimness, peering at the nocturni’s chest before she saw the center of his robe begin to glisten. The black cloth was absorbing a wash of thick liquid blood in a long, uninterrupted line between its wearer’s left shoulder and right hip. Her cut had struck so cleanly that the tear in the cloth had barely parted, but she had hit deep. A quick whiff of offal told her his intestines had begun to spill forth. He dropped like a stone, his hands still waving before him.
It didn’t matter. The magic had blinked out, and whatever the sorcerer had intended to summon remained firmly locked in its current location. Satisfied, Ash turned to dispatch the closest of the remaining ghouls, fighting her way to Drum’s side.
Their band of Wardens and warriors made short work of the enemy. In only minutes, the cavern descended into silence. Immediately, she crouched at Drum’s side, pushing away the bloodied hand that cradled his injured arm. “How bad?”
Drum grimaced as she poked at a deep cut along his biceps. It wasn’t life threatening, but for a human it was serious, and obviously very painful. His ability to fight and cast spells would be compromised, though by how much she could only guess.
“’Tis only a flesh wound,” he muttered, his brogue thicker than she had ever heard it. “Had worse.”
“Liar,” she growled, tearing the sleeve off his shirt and pressing it hard against the bleeding wound.
“Let me.” Wynn pushed forward and gently urged Ash out of t
he way. She examined the wound with a practiced efficiency and pursed her lips. “He’ll need stitches, but in the meantime I can bandage it to keep it protected.”
She dug around in her bag for a moment, then withdrew a bundle of clean white gauze, a couple of thick pads of absorbent cotton, a bottle of mysterious liquid, and a small jar of ointment. The others stared in disbelief. It took a few seconds for her to notice.
“What?” she asked when she finally looked up and noticed their attention. “Like you thought we were all gonna get through this without a scratch? You’re just lucky I came prepared.”
“Nah,” Kylie said, shaking her head and smiling. “We’re just all trying to figure out when you mugged Hermione Granger and stole her handbag. You got a tent and a wood-burning stove in there?”
“Smart-ass,” Wynn muttered, dousing one of the pads with the bottle of liquid. Ash had expected a disinfectant with the bite of alcohol, but instead the fluid had a sharp but not unpleasant aroma of herbs. The witch followed up by smearing the wound with the ointment in the jar, which had an unappealing greenish-brown color. By now the bleeding had slowed to a sluggish trickle, so she placed the second pad over the injury and bound it in place with several layers of gauze.
“There.” Wynn replaced her supplies into her bag, slung it back across her chest, and pushed to her feet. “That should keep it clean, at least, and the ointment will help dull the pain. It’s not Vicodin, or anything, but it does help. But we will need to get you to a doctor for those stitches just as soon as we’re out of here. I can’t believe I forgot to bring sutures.”
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