by LJ Rivers
Our formation comprised eleven griffins, with Hondo leading the V formation. The queen herself stood on his back, facing us and using her wings to keep steady.
“We will break east shortly and start our descent. Juniper Cynthia?”
“Ready, Highness,” the Fae’s voice sang from my right. Her griffin’s beak almost touched Xavi’s hind legs.
Had Brendan ordered her to fly that close to him?
She jumped to her feet, and like Morgana, she used her wings as stabilisers. For a second, I thought she looked in my direction, and wasn’t there a smirk on her lips?
I tried to get a grip, but had to admit to myself I was failing miserably. The worst of it was that I liked Cynthia. Not that I knew her much, but she had a presence about her, an indistinguishable X factor that struck a chord in me, in a good way. I didn’t want to be jealous.
Morgana turned and looked over her shoulder. A dark silhouette appeared in the distance. It had to be Ymyll Dagir, the tallest mountain in the Mynydd Dewin range. Even from this distance—I guessed we were about two miles away from the razor-sharp ridge at the top—it was clear why the ancient Dewinians had named it Dagger’s Edge.
The queen raised her hand and held it for five seconds. Ten. Fifteen.
“Now!” she shouted and lowered it in a chopping motion.
Cynthia reacted in a heartbeat, jumping off her griffin’s back and free falling into the darkness below. Her orders were to position herself opposite the giant horn that was mounted above the main entrance of the mines and await Morgana’s signal before firing her explosive arrow.
Morgana dropped to her knees, and Hondo dipped his giant neck downwards. I pushed Amalli while gripping the leather reins extra hard. When the griffin fell into a dive to follow Hondo, I tightened my grip even more. If any of the guards below looked up, I was sure they would have seen my white knuckles like tiny torches approaching from the sky.
We touched down undetected—at least I hoped we were—in a barren field, some five hundred pances north of the mine. Morgana whispered something in Hondo’s ear, and the giant creature, which I still couldn’t believe actually existed, let out a low, muffled squawk. Morgana leaned into him and patted his head.
Neevia, the queen’s master griffin trainer, had tried to teach me how to communicate with the griffins. So far, I was only able to give orders that pertained to flight, such as turning, ascending, and landing. Trying to interpret the animals’ various responses was a completely different kettle of fish. I leaned in and whispered, “Good girl” to Amalli. She didn’t reply. Not audibly, at least. Instead, she joined Meneera, Xavi, and the other griffins following Hondo as he prowled north into the darkness. According to our plan, they would wait by a hill just north of our landing site.
Brendan made a few gestures, and ten other Junipers fell into three parallel lines. Slowly and quietly, they all drew their swords and daggers. As long as they used their weapons, only the Fae—there were three of them, not counting the flirting archeress—could use magic. The rest were either wolf, eagle or lion Shifters, and could shift whenever they deemed it the best tactic.
Jen, Erica, and Jack shifted into wolves while Taryn stayed in his human shape, sword already unsheathed. No one said a word. The dim sphere that once had been the brightly burning sun dipped low over the mountain range, and soon the moon would rise. The evening was eerily quiet, and any noise we made would appear heavily amplified to the guards at the mine.
Counting Morgana, Charlie, and myself, we totalled nineteen. Only a few weeks ago, if I had known about such a mission, I would have given anything for my earthly friends to stay behind. Now, as I watched my boyfriend command his soldiers, Jen and her wolves readying themselves for battle, and my little sister Charlie arrange her pouches, vials, and bundles of string, I knew I would have been wrong. We were a team.
Morgana waved her arm and pointed south.
Here we go!
We were approaching from the north, along a path with two tracks, just like the tractor tracks across any wheat field back on Earth. Most supplies were delivered by griffins or other flying creatures, but any earthbound visitors had to use this path. We could only hope no one had any business in or out just this night.
The wooden wall eventually came into view. It was made up of thick logs, each ten feet high with spiky tops, surrounding three sides of the mostly rectangular outside area of the mine complex. The fourth, and easternmost side, comprised the foot of Ymyll Dagir, below which the actual mine shafts lay. Three quarters down the length of the two-hundred-yards-long front wall was the main—and only—gate. Double doors, also made of thick logs, were guarded by two soldiers, both clad in black and standing atop a stairway inside the wall.
Morgana stopped and crouched, as did all of us. She motioned to Brendan, who in turn nodded at the two Junipers behind him. His best archers, not counting Cynthia, he had said before we took off, which only added another pinprick in my heart.
The Junipers moved swiftly and soundlessly up front. We were only a hundred pances—about two hundred yards—away now, but the guards looked infinitesimal in the darkness.
I swallowed as the Junipers nocked their arrows and drew their bowstrings. The one on the right, Theis of Pelles, if memory served, looked at his partner. They tilted their heads up and down, counting wordlessly. I couldn’t help but join them in my mind.
One. Two. Three. Four.
On four, they both turned to face the gate, and when my internal voice said “five”, they let their arrows fly.
“Now, Ruby!” Morgana commanded.
I had been so mesmerised by the archers that I had completely forgotten my task. Only a few months back, that might have been a problem. Not anymore. Controlling my fire power was as easy as moving a finger or blinking my eyelids. I flicked my right hand out and sent a tennis ball-sized fire orb straight into the air. The whooshing sound was accompanied by two muffled thumps as the Junipers’ arrows penetrated the guards’ armour.
A bright red glare illuminated the wall and the mountainside, revealing a spiral contraption seventy feet up on the dark rocks. The magic horn. As a voice started shouting inside the gate, the horn exploded in a cascade of fire and smoke, the blast echoing like thunder through the night.
“Charge!” the queen shouted. “Ruby, open the gate.”
I happily obliged, throwing two more fireballs at the double doors. They ignited like tinder, casting orange and yellow sparks both in and out of the opening. Three dark shadows emerged at the corner of my right eye as I ran, one noticeably lighter than the other two. The white wolf that was Jen leapt through the burning remains of the gate and straight into the neck of a black-clad man on the other side. A dark crimson shower spurted from his neck as he fell limp on the ground. Jen hadn’t lost more than half a step.
Morgana and two Juniper Fae took to their wings and flew over the wall a few yards away from the gate. They were headed for one of the three buildings, where, according to the scouts, most of the outside guards would be eating or resting.
The fire in the gate had spread to the wall on both sides. It wasn’t just any old fire, either. I had made sure it was the hottest fireballs I could conjure, and the effect was impressive, even to me. The wall burnt like it was dry grass in the wind, the flames so intense they were more blue than orange—the way I had seen my father’s fire often present itself. I was glad the surroundings were mostly rock, so it wouldn’t spread to an inferno of a forest fire.
I ran through the gate behind two Junipers. One of them pushed a force field in front of him, which saved his life when an arrow bounced off it. The second arrow changed its course mid-air, thanks to my telekinesis. I missed the archer, as he ducked behind the corner of a small wooden hut.
“Look out, Brendan!” Morgana shouted.
I turned as he was knocked to the ground by a humongous bear. The Shifter threw itself over Brendan, its claws ready to rip him to shreds.
“No!” I screamed and cast a
force field towards my boyfriend.
The bear let out an earthquake of a roar, cut short by Brendan’s sword as it protruded from the back of its neck. My force field caught the Swordmaster, stopping the dying beast from crushing him as it fell. The bear rolled off the translucent surface and landed on its back.
“Get it off me,” Brendan snapped, and I retracted the force field. He jumped to his feet and gripped the hilt of his sword. “Oh, no!” he moaned, holding up the bent blade.
“Let me, Master,” said a Juniper soldier and reached for Brendan’s sword. Brendan gave it to him, and the soldier stroked his hand along the edge. As his fingers moved towards the tip, the blade straightened and looked as though it had come straight from the smithy. “That should do—”
A spear flew straight through the Metal Elementalist’s head, cutting his words and his life short. The spear disappeared into the night as the soldier dropped in front of Brendan’s feet.
Behind me, Charlie let out a scream. I spun around, fearing she was being attacked, but she was alone, holding her hands in front of her shocked face.
“Stay low, Char!” I urged, but she was already in a crouch.
Returning to the fight, I looked for more guards. The clanking sounds of swords, interspersed with shouts and moans, filled the area. Then it stopped, as if someone had pressed a giant mute button. Red, blue, and orange light flickered from the various fires in the wall and the wooden huts.
On the ground lay at least ten black-clad soldiers. And two Junipers.
“Are you OK?” Brendan asked. He stood a few yards to my left, looming over a blood-soaked Sorcerer. Or maybe he was a Dodger. I still couldn’t see any of the Magicals’ auras.
“Yes. And you?”
“Couldn’t be better.” He bent down and grabbed the dead soldier’s shield. He slid his arm into the leather straps and moved the shield up and down in front of his torso, testing the weight.
I opened my mouth to comment.
“Now, there’s something I thought I’d never see,” a voice said from above. The owner glided down, folding her Fae wings under her Juniper cape as she touched the ground three feet in front of him. “Brendan the Blade Dancer, who only a few moons ago swore by the fire that he would never use a shield.”
By the fire? When the fudge did the two of them talk by the fire?
Brendan grinned and shrugged. “Oh, well. It might come in handy after all.”
I started towards them, but Charlie held me back. “Care to help me?” She handed me a canvas bag. “Remember. Extremely careful. Treat it like it contains explosives.”
“Uhm, right. Yes, of course.” I glanced in Brendan’s direction as I took the bag. He and Cynthia were already on their way to join up with Morgana, Taryn, and the remaining Junipers. I shook my head, trying to shake away the green monster in my brain. “Let’s go.”
“There will be other guards inside, so stay alert.” Morgana spoke in a hushed voice, but managed to sound as authoritative as a drill sergeant. “Ruby?”
“Here.” I held up the canvas bag.
“Excellent. Char?”
Charlie flinched. “Did you say—? I mean, here, Your Highness.”
“Stay outside, no matter what happens. If we fail, you have to go through with the plan.” Morgana gave two thumbs up. “Oh kay?”
Charlie returned the gesture. “OK.”
The queen retrieved a small object from inside her sleeve and held it up to her mouth. She pretended to blow into what I assumed was a whistle, but no sound came. “Hondo will hear it,” she said. “Just wave at him, and he will know to alight beside you. As will the other griffins.”
Charlie nodded.
“Jeannine? You and your wolves check the area for any stray Changelings or other guards.”
The white wolf growled and bobbed her head. She ran off, her copper and grey companions on her heels.
“Enough talk,” the queen said, and went to the dark opening at the foot of the mountain.
Taryn raised his sword and followed, and soon Brendan, Cynthia, and the remaining Junipers did, too. Behind them, carefully carrying the bag of explosive vials, came the jealous Princess Ruby, desperately trying to focus on the task at hand.
The tunnel was steep, going down in a spiral, and it didn’t take long before the entrance was out of sight. We passed several carts, filled with large rocks with thin veins of blue and green, as we followed the tracks downward. As we turned a corner, the first torches appeared, illuminating the rocky walls and floor. And the first two guards. Cynthia sent an arrow into the heart of one, while another Juniper threw his dagger at the other. The soldier disappeared, and the dagger clanked into the wall. The very next instance, the soldier Dodger reappeared next to Morgana. He drew a knife, only to have it drop to the floor, still in the grip of his severed hand. Taryn swung the sword again, slashing through the soldier’s armour and leaving a foot-long gash across his chest. A shower of blood painted the eagle Shifter’s uniform as the Dodger’s eyes closed for eternity.
As Morgana had anticipated, we encountered a few more soldiers, but apart from a deep cut in the leg of one of our Junipers, we emerged from the tunnel unscathed.
“Let me,” I said, placing my hand on the soldier’s leg. The wound closed like a zipper.
“Thank you, Princess.” He ran up to the queen, sword ready.
Morgana had stopped, and so had Brendan and Taryn next to her. They were taking in the same sight as the rest of us. The reason why Bellion, with Auberon’s blessing, had captured so many slaves.
The cave was gigantic, at least fifty feet from floor to ceiling and maybe three hundred in both directions. The walls were all shades of dark grey, with thin, sparkly strands of greens and blues crisscrossing through them.
Enchantium.
All along the walls, some hanging from ropes or standing on wobbly scaffolding, people were hammering away. Pebbles and rocks crashed to the ground now and then, and a cloud of dust hung in the air. None appeared to have noticed us or the noise we had made over their metallic cacophony.
“Faster!” a gravelly voice ordered, and the sound of a whip made me cringe. At the far end, a guard towered over an older woman, who was down on her knees and palms. He held a giant whip that sparked blue over her back.
“I spot five guards in here,” Brendan whispered. “Cynthia?”
“My pleasure.”
The guard I had seen with the whip was down a second later, an arrow piercing his neck. The old woman, however, covered her head with her hands and stayed where she was. There were four subsequent thumps, and the remaining guards were down for the count, too. All out of play because of Cynthia’s arrows. I should be thrilled, but a part of me had wanted to prove myself, and here Cynthia was, a gorgeous female version of Robin Hood, stealing all my glory. Yeah, I needed to shake that green monster inside me.
Morgana tapped my shoulder. “Ruby, get to work. The rest of us, let’s help those poor souls out of here.”
Everyone moved at an almost leisurely pace to avoid scaring the living daylights out of the slaves. Ironic, considering the hell they were living in.
I went slowly, too, trying not to rush any movements as I placed the vials of liquid fire according to Charlie’s instructions. I wedged each of them gently between rocks on the ground and placed the strings she had tied to the corks along the floor, pointing towards the tunnel. I took great care not to place the strings in the path of where the fleeing slaves would go, as I had no desire for any of them to trip and cause a disaster.
The voices reached my ears. There was shouting, crying, cheering and more crying, and then Morgana’s voice echoed through the cave.
“Enough! We can celebrate later. Now we have to get out of here! Follow me.”
The unruly mass of bodies sluggishly moved in my direction. I squeezed close to the wall, pointing and waving at the tunnel entrance. “Stay away from this side!”
Brendan came first, carrying the old woman the guard
had been whipping. When he ran past me and into the tunnel, I noticed that the Fae wasn’t old at all, just dirty and malnourished. One by one the slaves went. They hobbled and stumbled into the tunnel, all looking like Holocaust-victims, which I supposed was a rather accurate description of their ordeal. Every Juniper was either carrying or supporting at least one slave each.
“Use the carts,” Morgana ordered.
Some slaves had trouble walking, and the Junipers helped a few into the carts, then began pushing the slaves out.
A young Goblin stopped beside me when he reached the tunnel. He scanned the fleeing crowd, muttering something between his teeth before he sprinted back to the far end.
“Hey!” I shouted. “We have to—” But he returned quickly, supporting—no, carrying—a Goblin woman. He went past me, heaving for air, and put the woman gently into the last cart. Unlike the person Brendan had carried, this woman actually was old. I wondered how many of her years she had spent in this dark nightmare.
“That’s the last one,” Morgana said, bringing up the rear. “Are you ready?”
“I think so. Here.” I handed her four of the loose string ends and kept the other four. “Please, as gently as you can.”
She gave me what she probably thought was a reassuring smile, but her eyes betrayed her. She was just as scared as I was.
Even though we trod carefully, unrolling the strings and trying to keep them both tight and loose at the same time, we caught up with the slaves before we arrived at the mine entrance. I listened for any sign of clamouring or fighting outside, but it was quiet, save for the dragging feet across the dusty floor and the screech of the carts coming to a stop. When we finally made it to the outside, I estimated we had been inside for nearly an hour.
Charlie approached me and the queen, while Taryn, Brendan, and a few others helped some of the slaves climb onto our griffins, a couple of Junipers took charge of a larger group, herding them out of the complex to lead them down the path whence we had come. Morgana had been right about each griffin being able to carry several people at once. Hondo took off with a Juniper and six slaves and didn’t seem to be bothered by the extra weight.