All eyes turned away from his stern gaze.
She’d hurt him, and he was upset, and his heart was...well, it just wasn’t right. Something inside told him this would be it, that he would never see her again. “Won’t they come after you for helping me?”
“They are all dead,” she said. “Everyone nearby, all of them. I would not let them hurt you.”
“Thank you,” Angst said.
“I am sorry,” she said. “I love you. I will make this right.”
“What do you mean?” he asked. She still held him, and as his strength returned, he started feeling embarrassed in her arms, but didn’t think it was the right time to get up.
“There is one more thing you need to know, An-gst,” she said. “They are going to Unsel.”
“What?” he said, rolling off to kneel beside her in the water.
“They are of Water. We are her creatures. They can swim to Unsel now,” she said. “All of them.”
The cold from the water crept into his veins. Realization struck him with the force of his head being split in two. This had been Water’s plan all along, and he hadn’t seen any of it. The sinkholes weren’t tearing their way through Unsel countryside just to destroy the castle. The sinkholes were a path, a waterway that connected the ocean straight to the castle. Not only was his home under attack by sinkholes and gargoyles, but soon by mermaids, mermen, and that giant monster.
“I am sorry, An-gst. I am so sorry.” She shimmied into the water, wiggling out of Tarness’s grasp.
“This isn’t your fault, Moyra,” he said. “There’s no way all of this could be your fault.”
“I will make this right,” she said, diving into the cave and swimming away.
“No, please don’t,” he said to her.
“I am going to stop them!” she said, her voice distant and determined. “I will be a hero, just like you.”
“There’s nothing you can do! This isn’t your fault!” Angst cried out in his mind. “Please come back. I...”
The cave was silent. Angst stood and turned around to face his friends. The looks on their faces said everything. It was at that moment he realized that he hadn’t called out in his mind, he had said it all out loud.
To his surprise, just like a best friend should, Victoria came to him. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him the most loving, understanding hug he’d ever needed. It was far, far more than he deserved, and, more than anything, he just wanted to weep on his friend’s shoulder.
“You should’ve let me kill her,” Faeoris said coldly, her sword sheathed and her arms crossed.
A thunderous sound echoed through the cavern, and Angst let out a sigh. He balled up all the remorse and pain, all the worry and fear, the guilt and anger, and used it to push forward. It was the only energy he had left. He pulled away from Tori, thanking her with a nod.
“There are other battles to fight,” he said. “And we’re going to go finish this now.”
54
Dulgirgraut didn’t make Angst invulnerable. He felt pain. All of it. The physical pain brought on by rampaging monsters, and the emotional pain that was his constant companion. He’d always known that pain drove him, that a certain amount of hurt was needed to push forward, to push beyond what he would normally be capable of. Right now, he felt very driven.
Angst’s left hand was pinched painfully in Victoria’s death grip, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask her to loosen her hold. He’d dragged her through a nightmare, and he worried about her safety and even her sanity. A sore hand was a small price.
“I’m fine, Angst,” she said between rapid breaths, almost hyperventilating.
“I’m not,” Tarness said, close behind. “I wish someone would hold my hand.”
Victoria flashed him a terse smile. Tarness winked, but his face showed the worry he suffered with the others. As they walked up the endless stairway, an uncomfortable electricity crept through their arms and into their skulls. Not only did it lift hairs, it pulled at skin. There was a buzz, a hum that rattled Angst’s teeth. It was a creepy, malignant energy that made him want to run back down into the watery depths below and swim for freedom.
“We can probably slow down,” Hector said, baring his teeth to the energy. “The water’s stopped rising, and we’ve been hiking uphill for hours.”
“We must be above sea level by now,” Dallow said, out of breath, his hand on Hector’s shoulder for guidance, a soggy book jammed under his armpit.
Everyone was soaked from head to toe. Victoria and Dallow shivered violently, Hector was paler than normal, Tarness had goosebumps, and Faeoris’s brave face contradicted her wide, worried eyes. Victoria shook her head, wordlessly letting Angst know that they shouldn’t stop. He let go of Tori’s hand, and she frowned in concern.
“Just for a second, I promise,” he said.
At his urging, Dulgirgraut glowed bright red, and, with more effort than it normally would’ve taken, thanks to Jormbrinder, the cave warmed. He eyed the single dagger stuck to his hip like a thorn in his side, dampening everything he tried to do with magic. Even communication with Dulgirgraut seemed muffled. How could he fight whatever was ahead under these conditions? Distant bangs and shouts echoed throughout their chamber, beating against the cave walls like rows of drums. His teeth chattered and his gut wrenched. There had to be a way to draw more power from the sword, or get rid of Jormbrinder.
“I know everyone is tired. It feels like we’ve been hiking up this cave forever,” Angst said with a conviction he didn’t feel. “Take a minute to breathe then we’re going to carry on, because I can feel it, we’re almost there.”
“Are your adventures always like this?” Faeoris asked, looking at Angst intently. “My heart is racing, I feel...”
“Anxious?” he asked. “Excited?”
“That’s it,” she said, unable to stand still, bouncing on her toes like a runner before a race.
“Always.” He nodded.
“Good,” she said with a wicked little smirk. “I like it.”
“Angst, we have to keep going,” Victoria pleaded. “We only have a short window for everything to happen right.”
“We’re only stopping for a moment so I can think. Chryslaenor is close, I can feel it, but that’s not all. There is...power ahead that I don’t understand, and all I can get from Dulgirgraut is that we should leave. Jormbrinder isn’t exactly a big helper.” Angst took in a breath of thick cave air before sighing deeply. Victoria took his hand once more, gripping tightly. “I don’t know if I can keep everyone safe. We’re coming up on something powerful, and you don’t all have one of these things to protect you. If it gets hairy in there, I need you to find a way out.”
“We won’t leave you!” Victoria promised.
“Agreed,” Faeoris said, crossing her arms.
“Yes, you will!” Angst said sternly to both of them.
“Yes, we will,” Hector agreed, his wolf-like gaze staring down anyone who disagreed. “I’ll make sure everyone is out safely.”
Angst nodded in gratitude.
Victoria looked at Angst then back at Hector. She chewed nervously on a lock of blond hair, and it was obvious she was unhappy with both of them.
“I don’t approve,” Faeoris stated firmly.
“Agreed,” Victoria said with a nod. “There has to be a way we can stay together.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” Angst said with a smirk. “Your Majesties.”
Victoria’s shoulders dropped and Faeoris looked at him with wary, calculating eyes. Neither of them answered.
“Keep going,” Victoria eventually said in frustration.
They continued, walking slowly up the cave passage within the glow of Dulgirgraut. The cave walls narrowed, forcing them into single file. Tarness and Faeoris crouched low, often shifting sideways as they approached turns and thin corridors. Angst held the giant sword out before him with one hand and held Victoria’s hand with the other. They continued creeping upward, until the
noise became louder, more frightening, and the energy palpable.
“Chryslaenor,” Angst whispered. “Finally.”
Victoria gripped even tighter, making his knuckles pop. The way before them was bright, and Angst willed Dulgirgraut’s reddish glow to fade. Even through Jormbrinder’s dampening haze, Angst could sense the power in the air around them. It was hard to fathom the enormous amounts of magic being wielded. The energy made his jaw ache, as if there were too many teeth in his mouth. Someone was shouting in a language he couldn’t understand over the roars of crashing waves and strange whooshing sounds. It seemed they were approaching madness. Over the noise of the battle came the faint sound of a woman’s pained grunting. Rose. She sounded like she was fighting something, which meant she was alive. Angst took careful steps forward, listening intently.
The walls of the cavern entrance gave way, and Angst inched toward a corner. He pulled free from Victoria’s grip, and she immediately held onto his shoulder so they peek around together.
The small cave path opened to an enormous room ten times larger than the maiden’s courtyard, two training grounds, or even a field massive enough to produce grain for every family in the castle of Unsel. Twenty-foot marble statues, the size of elements, stood along the walls. Each statue was a different, horrific monster that strained to hold up an arched ceiling. A hundred yards away, at the opposite end of the room, titans battled. Water and Air clashed with storm and sea, throwing tornado at tsunami. Angst and Tori ducked their heads nervously as they tried to avoid being noticed between the attacks.
The cave floor was made of ten-foot square, pale marble tiles. Dust covered the tiles except for a footprint path that led to a stone slab. Rose lay prone on that table, Chryslaenor hovering over her horizontally. Black lightning spewed from the blade, biting along the edges of her arms and legs. She twitched at each lightning strike, but otherwise appeared asleep, or dead. A large diamond-shaped dagger—the other half of Jormbrinder—rested at her side, reflecting the light from the battle off its golden edges. Beside her stood a seven-foot tall bald man, his brow furrowed and his eyes shut in concentration as he mouthed words. He held his arms out, his fingers spread wide and aimed at the hovering sword.
“Do you see anything?” Faeoris asked loudly.
Everyone jumped, but no one seemed to notice, and they all relaxed.
“Everything,” Angst said. “Dulgirgraut says a man is trying to force Rose to bond with Chryslaenor.”
“She’ll die!” Dallow said angrily.
“I won’t let that happen,” Angst said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I promise.”
“What are you going to do?” Hector asked.
The last time he’d fought an element, he’d lost. Fire had thrown a sun at them, and he hadn’t been able to wield enough magic to fight back. Now they faced two elements throwing unfathomable power back and forth like a giant food fight. How could he possibly defend against both of them when Jormbrinder muffled his ability to wield? He needed his magic now more than ever, just to save Rose, but he couldn’t just pull Chryslaenor free. Holding both swords had almost killed him at Gressmore, and now he had a third foci to consider. A third foci that dampened magic.
“I have an idea,” Angst stated, licking his dry lips. “I’m not sure it will work, and I don’t know if I can protect everyone.” Angst sought Hector, his old mentor, his friend, and gripped the man’s shoulder. “You keep them safe, no matter what I do,” Angst said firmly. “Do you understand?”
Hector nodded, his old, gray eyes skeptical.
“That goes for all of you,” Angst said to Tarness, Dallow, and Faeoris.
Victoria’s eyes were glazed over with a vision. “Angst.” She looked tense, her shoulders hunched. “There’s a chance you’ll die. A good chance.”
“Again?” He smirked, but then noticed Faeoris’s very serious face.
“Don’t die,” Faeoris said, more of a command than a concern.
“I promise.”
Suddenly, Victoria reached up, gripping his neck to pull him in for a kiss. He turned his face to the side at the last moment, and her lips landed firmly on his cheek. She jerked back in surprise. He looked at her blushing face and smiled fondly.
“Chicken,” Tarness teased.
“Really?” Angst asked with a wink. “Watch this.”
He shoved the surprised princess back into Hector’s arms, wielded Dulgirgraut, and jogged around the corner. He wanted to blur to Rose, but with Jormbrinder’s “help,” he might just blur into a wall or rush in at a snail’s pace. Instead, Angst jogged as fast as his armor would allow. He wasn’t even halfway to Rose when he heard a voice like a thundering waterfall.
“Angst!” Water stormed.
He spun about to see the element of Water raise a hand toward him, shards of ice flying from her palm. Considering that they were titans, shards really meant stalactites large enough to destroy small dragons. He kept running.
“Yes,” Air hissed.
Angst felt a change in the air that made his ears pop. He brushed most of the missiles aside like waving away falling leaves.
“With me, wielder!” Air cried. “We can destroy her together!”
Dulgirgraut shielded him before he even thought the spell, deflecting small icebergs, though tiny bits got through, pelting his cheek. Angst skidded to a halt, momentarily distracted by Air’s assault on Water. It was foolish, but how do you not stop to look at a natural disaster, to take a moment and witness the tornado racing toward you, to stand in awe at a tidal wave? Especially when they were both happening in the same room! Thin tornadoes bored into Water like worms into soil. A surge of waves formed from nothing, crashing into Air and knocking him back. Both elements returned their focus to the battle at hand.
“Help me!” Air called out to Angst.
He looked at the elements, and wondered for a second if it would be best to join forces against Water, to help Air succeed where he’d failed alone. He turned to look at Rose and the tall man weaving magic he didn’t understand, pouring it into her.
“Angst,” Faeoris cried. “Run!”
Without another word, Angst ran toward Rose and Chryslaenor. It felt like he was moving in slow motion, but he managed one step, two steps then something sharp struck his jaw, forcing him from his path. Dulgirgraut left his hand as he landed on his side and rolled to a crashing stop against a stone wall. There was no pause for breath as a kick to his ribs sent him flying ten feet into the air. He landed in the arms of a man who caught his shoulders and rammed him against the wall, knocking all sense and breath away. Dulgirgraut sang off key, and stars flashed before his eyes.
His attacker paused to smile smugly, looking down on Angst with distaste, with his muscular dark arm reared back. Fists pummeled so hard and fast, it was as if he were armored in a pillow case. One landed against the chainmail under his chest plate with a noisy crack. It was suddenly hard to breathe, and Angst fought to retain consciousness.
55
Bright lights shone in Angst’s eyes as Faeoris landed behind the man. She gripped him by the shoulders and picked him up, flinging him high overhead, making him cry out in surprise. He crashed hard on a shoulder against the corner of Rose’s table.
When he pushed himself up, he looked at Faeoris. “You!” he said accusingly. “You bitch! I already turned you away once!”
“Are you okay?” she asked Angst, helping him up.
“No,” he wheezed, feeling every year he’d lived. “Who is he?”
“ANduaut of Vex’steppe,” she said.
“That guy?” Angst remembered her tale from the night they’d stayed up talking.
She merely nodded.
“Did you come back to be rejected again?” he screamed. “This time, you need to die!”
“Don’t die,” Angst wheezed.
“I promise.” She nodded.
“And beat him senseless,” Angst said with a nod.
ANduaut sprinted toward her, runni
ng faster than any mere man. His eyes were wild, maniacal, and spittle dripped from his lips. He’d picked up a long staff with daggers on each end, and spun it expertly, a whirlwind of vicious steel. Faeoris stood as still as death. When ANduaut was a foot away, she reached out in a blur and clutched his throat. His feet slid out from under him while his head remained in place. There was a sickening gurgle as he choked in her grip.
“There’s a reason Berfemmian are feared more than the Vex’steppe tribes,” she said solemnly. Faeoris stood over him, her long legs spread in a fighting stance, one hand on a hip and the other held out like a sword at a man’s throat.
Angst shuddered. So much strength, so much anger in such a beautiful package.
She looked down at Angst with keen eyes. “Run, my friend. Run!”
She slammed ANduaut to the ground with one arm, and his staff flew out of his hand. Faeoris picked him up, lifted him high, and slammed him down again. Her knee landed hard in his groin, and he squeaked. He covered his face with his arms as she struck, each driving blow hard enough to make her hair bounce from the shock. His forearms split open and blood sprayed. Angst tore his eyes away and pushed himself up. Faeoris would be fine. More than fine.
He wanted to run heroically and leap onto the sacrificial table like a graceful antelope. Instead, he lumbered forward in an old man jog. It was hard to breathe—his ribs weren’t right and his armor and cloak weighed heavy. The fear and excitement in his mind warred with the labored thumping of his heart. He had the sudden urge to lie down and rest, to sleep a thousand years, but she needed him. They all needed him. He crawled onto the table and, with a grunt, pushed himself to stand over Rose. He looked up, staring at Chryslaenor as though nothing else in the room existed.
“What are you doing?” Hector called out. “Leave that thing alone!”
“Let me go,” Victoria said, squirming in Hector’s grip. “He shouldn’t be alone!”
“Faeoris,” Tarness shouted. “Get out of there.”
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