by Eliza Tilton
“Could you be more specific?” Lucino took off his shirt and placed it across the top of a chaise. I ignored the rippling muscles of his chest, and how the tips of his hair brushed his face.
“Don’t act like you don’t know.”
“I didn’t think you’d be concerned with an old lover.” He lifted his chin to meet my gaze, yet I couldn’t stop mine from watching his chest move with each breath.
“Lover?” I blushed at the accusation, heat filling my face. “What are you talking about?”
“Have you forgotten about the boy who loved you so much he shoved a sword through your chest?” Lucino stepped forward, watching me as he closed the gap between us.
“Derrick? Derrick’s in Daath?”
“Yes, and with Lucy.”
“What? No. I’m talking about my brother.” I didn’t have time to think about Derrick, but I would definitely ask more about that later. Derrick and Lucy?
Lucino folded his arms. “Avikar is here?”
“Yes.” I sighed. “What are they doing here? And why is Derrick with your sister?”
My head pounded. How could they both be here? I rubbed my temples.
“Sit.” Lucino wrapped his hand around mine and guided me to the bed. “How do you know Avikar is here?”
“Jezebel went to Jericho’s in my place. Avikar was there asking for me. Jericho must have told him about me. Jezebel didn’t stay long. She was worried she might give me away. She lied and said I would return tomorrow so Avikar would let her leave. He wanted to go with her, but she gave him some excuse.”
I leaned against Lucino’s shoulder. “What are we going to do? Avikar will be with Jericho. I know it.”
“I’ll make sure your brother lives, but I can’t spare Jericho.”
I took Lucino’s hand; his smooth skin melted against mine, releasing the tension in my bones. “I can’t lose him again.” I squeezed Lucino’s hand, remembering how close Avikar had come to dying that fateful night in the temple.
“Tomorrow we take out the rebellion. If I have to drag your brother here in chains, I will, but I swear this night, I will not let my men hurt him.”
“He’s going to be furious with me.”
Avikar would never approve of our relationship. Nothing I could say would change his hatred. Loving Lucino put me in the middle of war, and pitted me against my family. If Lucino brought Avikar back here, at least we could speak. Then … then we would go our separate ways.
Lucino wrapped an arm around me. I ran my hand up his bare chest, feeling the definition. He rubbed my arm; each finger sent a tiny electric dance afire beneath my skin. His chest rose, and with every stroke of my hand, his heartbeat quickened.
Glancing up, I found his face tilted toward mine. He reached his other hand over to swipe the hair off my face and tuck it back behind my ear. I wanted to leave, wanted to stay, wanted Lucino to make me forget.
Inside his kiss, I could forget about the pain bracing my heart. With Lucino, only the moment mattered. A moment so pure and sweet it swept me away like the giant waves of the sea. I wanted to drown in him.
Lucino held me in his arms, weaving his hand through my hair, kissing my face, my lips, and my neck. Any skin visible, his lips met. The desire to be with him outweighed any hesitation whirling inside.
“Be my queen?” he whispered into my neck.
Those precious words sent a jolt of happiness into my heart and I giggled, the joy spilling out of me. “I will.”
“Now.” He pulled back, tugging at my sides, an intensity in his bright sapphire eyes.
“Now? You’re going to war.”
He cupped my face with his hands. “Why should we wait?”
“So I can hope for something beautiful.”
“Is that want you truly wish?”
I placed my hand on his. “I want you to come back to me. Then I want a wedding, in front of our people, uniting us.”
He kissed me, holding me tighter. “Then you will have the grandest wedding in all of the thirteen lands.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Avikar
Visions of light and dark swirled in my dreams. Images of Caleb, my parents, Jeslyn, all colliding together in a chaotic whirlwind. When I woke from the madness of my mind, my head ached as if I hadn’t slept at all.
It’s morning?
Rays of sunshine shone in through the open window. The white curtains blew with the breeze while a woodpecker pecked at the tall oak near the house. I rubbed my eyes.
Raven! I fell asleep waiting for her. I jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs. Please, be here.
Raven leaned against the wall of the kitchen chatting with Anna and eating an apple.
“Morning.” She grinned, then tossed me an apple.
I fumbled to catch it. “When did you get back? Did you find them?”
“I found their trail, but they were gone. Carriage tracks led out of the woods toward Lucino’s.”
Still not awake, I thought back to the conversation with Jezebel. Had she lied? I sighed and sat in a chair and knocked my forehead to the table. “What is she doing?”
“Jericho filled me in about Jezebel. I didn’t want to wake you. You looked exhausted.”
“Jezebel said she’d bring Jeslyn here today, but I have to go to the temple. It can’t wait.”
“I’ll watch for Jeslyn,” Anna said. “You two do what you need to do.”
I blinked repeatedly, unable to comprehend the sight in the distance.
Men who were neither fully man nor fully reptile guarded the temple. Black amour fitted against their green skin, which varied from the color of new grass to the deep brown green of a bullfrog. Pointed ears, noses both straight, narrow and bulbous. The smallest of their guard was still a head taller than me.
“Expecting company, boy?” Yoshi squatted next to me, frowning and squinting at the guards blocking our way.
“I thought the guards were by the valley.”
“Too many for us,” Raven said.
An entire encampment of shifters … By this time of day, Jericho should have engaged Daath’s guard by the valley. I needed more men. “We’ll go to Jericho. I hope that he can spare a man or two. This has to be the way the shifters are entering. Why would they have so many guards?”
“I need complete concentration. If you cannot handle this much, there is no point in us being here.” Yoshi huffed and dropped his rats on the ground.
“How are you going to close the gate?” I asked.
“You worry about those guards.”
Raven gasped beside me. “Oh, no …”
I followed her gaze to the two figures approaching from the camp.
“Derr—”
Raven grabbed my arm and yanked me back down. “They’ll hear you.”
“What is Derrick doing here? And with her?” Lucy and Derrick? She must have used her song spell on him. It was the only explanation. Why would she bring him here? Did she know I was here? Was she using him as bait?
My head throbbed with question after question. I had to get to Derrick, and this time, I would make sure Lucy didn’t escape.
“Avikar,” Raven whispered, pulling me further behind the tree. “You can’t get to him. Not now.”
“Go,” Yoshi ordered. “I’ll stay here and prepare.”
“Come on.” Raven pulled me away from our hiding spot and back toward the village.
Numbness spread through me. I walked in silence, lost in my thoughts. Did Derrick know Jeslyn was here? I wished I asked Mother more when I was in Lakewood. I was so consumed with my own problems, that I didn’t care about Derrick or Jeslyn.
Now they were both here.
Raven led the way to the valley. I followed in a daze, thinking of every possible explanation. Maybe Derrick found out Jeslyn was here, but even if
he had, how did he and Lucy meet? Derrick knew the way to Daath. It was possible he found his way back, but wouldn’t he have gone straight to Jericho’s? I sipped from my water skin, soothing my dry throat. A dull ache formed at my temples.
When we cleared the forest, we galloped to the valley.
Screams meshed with clashing swords, the sounds of battle floating on the wind. I couldn’t see the fight yet, but the cries were loud and warring.
“Are you okay?” Raven stood in front of me, waiting for me to dismount.
Slowly, I slid off Brushfire, my focus straight ahead. What could I say? There was too much to say. She sighed and placed her hands on my arms. “You’ve come so far. Don’t fall apart now.”
Too many questions racked my mind. Where was Jeslyn? Why was she here? What happens if we lose? What if I die and we never destroy the temple? What will happen to my family? I pulled at the sides of my hair, the ache spreading through my head.
“Over that hill,” Raven said, pointing in the direction of the battle, “our people fight against them. This will never end unless we destroy that gate. We can’t do that until we have enough men to protect Yoshi while he does whatever he needs to.”
I knew that. I’d fight. I would have to find a way.
“Are you ready?” Raven’s dark eyes blazed with determination. If she could fight, I could too.
Taking a deep breath, I dismounted. “Yes.”
She pulled out her daggers and spun them in her hands. “Then let’s go kill some shifters.”
She dashed up the hill, daggers drawn and poised to attack. I took a deep breath, shook the numbness from my mind, and chased after her.
Bodies, both dead and dying, dotted the landscape while men fought against one another around them. No beautiful red poppies swept across the grass; the grounds now scorched to a crisp. Charred dirt and the metallic scent of blood changed this once beautiful scene into a vision of despair. Men, young, old, some dressed in the simple rags of a farmer, others wearing sleek armor of the guard clashed into a bloody mess.
They’re outnumbered.
A guard launched a spear at Raven. She ducked and threw a dagger that sunk in his head. A perfect shot. Without stopping, she ran and pulled her weapon free.
“I think I see Jericho,” she yelled, pointing to the far right.
I nodded and we cut our way through the skirmishes continuing all around us. Blood splattered on my shirt from a nearby guard falling. I parried, swung, each movement flowing into the next, working on instinct alone. My thoughts were too jumbled so I didn’t think; I reacted, keeping on the defense, and watching Raven’s back.
Jericho fought a guard, swords locked against one another. He kicked forward, jamming his opponent’s leg. Raven ran in from the left flank, spinning and slicing until the guard fell over.
“What are you two doing here?” Jericho said between breaths.
“There are shifter guards surrounding the temple,” Raven said. “We need men.”
Jericho surveyed the battlefield. “If I could spare any, I would.”
I scanned the destroyed grounds before us. A smaller group rode in from the west. They were too far to tell if they were more guards, but as I watched the group ride closer, a sour nausea spread through me.
Lucino.
His hair was shorter, but I would recognize that pious look anywhere. Six guards rode beside him.
A horn blew from the east.
Another group, this one with men in peasant gear carrying swords and spears, marched with fifty soldiers of The Order, and at the front, a girl with striking blonde hair and a black arm. Prince Edwin strode beside her.
Raven and I both ran, and hope burst in my chest. Ginna broke rank to meet us, and the three of us slammed into each other in a great hug.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I said.
“Your father sent word to Prince Edwin,” Ginna replied.
“Is my father here?”
“No, but we came through the pass. The men with us are from The Shores.”
“How are you?” Raven held onto Ginna’s good arm. “We wanted to stay.”
“The prince came for me soon after you two left.” She glanced back as Prince Edwin approached with a soldier by his side—a dark-haired beauty holding two morning stars.
“Avikar, Raven.” The prince nodded. “This is my lieutenant, Jehalia.”
“We have another contingent entering Daath now,” Jehalia said.
“What about the snake that guards Daath’s entrance?” I remembered fighting the beast that almost ate Derrick.
“It will be dealt with.”
“Can you spare men?” I asked, examining the men around us.
“How many?”
“Fifteen.”
Prince Edwin nodded and Jehalia yelled out a command. Fifteen priests stepped forward, their black robes flapping in the wind.
Courage warmed my chest. We could do this.
Lucino and his group had engaged the far west of the field.
“I’ll take care of him,” Jericho said as he ran up beside us. “Go to the temple.”
“Agreed. I’ll stay here,” Prince Edwin said, “and await the rest of our force. Ginna will go with you to the temple.”
“Let’s move.” Raven nudged me forward, forcing my gaze away from Lucino just as his eyes met mine, one eyebrow rising ever so slightly.
I smirked. With The Order marching behind me, I wasn’t afraid.
I was ready.
Chapter Forty
Lucino
The Order? Here in Daath? The humans grew bold. They would never succeed. Wherever that weak force headed, they could not contend with Reptilian soldiers. At least Jeslyn’s brother ran from the fight. One less thing to be bothered with.
I slid the helmet forward, covering my face, and kicked the horse into a gallop. With the reins in my left hand, I swung my sword in arcs at the oncoming fray. Priests cast fire on staffs and polearms in preparation to attack my men. Their creator magic was weak compared to the power our synergists could unleash.
“Synergists!” I yelled, turning the horse to address the synergists riding alongside me. “Full force on those robed men. None survive!”
Volleys of electric orbs shot through the air, frying anyone caught in their deadly rain. The air reeked of sizzled flesh as members of The Order met their grizzly fate. Still, they pressed on. Blue fire fought against orange. Flames, mixing and dancing across the dead bodies that lay before us.
With the synergists engaged, I charged ahead, veering right to attack the simpleton men who followed beside The Order. Pitchforks? Did these men know nothing about battle? A pitchfork launched at my head. I ducked low, letting the weapon fly pass and land into the ground below.
Fools.
I charged in hard, rearing my horse in front of a man; heavy hooves smashed against the top of his head, sending him to the ground. Two boys screamed out in rage. The first of the two, a broad-shouldered lad, thrust his makeshift spear at me. I shifted in the saddle, letting the weapon’s tip swing dangerously close to my flank. The boy drove it deeply, but found no flesh. His eyes widened as my blade loped his head from his shoulders.
The second boy stared at his broken comrade.
“Your family’s lineage ends this day.” I grinned, enjoying the fury shaking his limbs.
With his eyes full of tears, he released a primal scream and rushed my left side with his rake. I threw my sword, hitting him directly in the chest. I dismounted, then walked over to him. He cried as I twisted my blade free.
“War is no place for a child.”
The spectacle caught the eyes of a few men, and now six opponents advanced my way.
“And here I thought this would be a boring occasion,” I called out.
At least these warriors were armed wit
h fitting blades and armor. Not that it would help them. The first of the six was a little fellow armed with a double-headed axe. He swung in a sideward arch, the sharpened wedge coming at me. I smiled and spun toward the strike. He must’ve thought me mad or suicidal. I stepped on the recently deceased boy’s rake, snapping the weapon up and parrying the strike, then drove a spinning elbow into the side of his head. He fell back into his comrade’s pikestaff, instantly dying. The man to his left had no time to contemplate as my pirouette ended with my blade catching his collarbone, sinking midway into his chest.
“Look out!” The man in the rear shouted as I emerged, wild-eyed and smirking.
I was taken too soon from the Kuuni war. I would enjoy this battle.
I ducked low and ran across their front, dragging both swords across their stomachs.
Four men dead in the blink of an eye.
The man with the pikestaff came at me with well-aimed stabs, swaying back and forth. Every strike harmlessly missed my face. Another shot forward and I pivoted backward, the staff just passing my stomach. The man was quick, but I was quicker.
With my left hand, I grabbed the pikestaff, then, with a fierce downward strike, I cleaved both his arms off. He screamed and sunk to his knees, horror twisting his features. I turned to face the last opponent, only to find him fleeing for his life.
“Not all humans are stupid,” I muttered.
Around me, the hum of electricity bombarding the battlefield warmed my heart. While being with Jeslyn had strengthened parts of me, battle reminded me of who I really was. A king. How I could truly lose myself in the calamity of combat. Screams of the dying played like a symphony of destruction, my blades orchestrating melodies of sorrow and woe. I was an artist, and this field was my canvas. Today, I would paint a masterpiece, claiming what was rightfully mine, and crimson would be my most adorned color.
The cacophony of battle resonated in my ears. I took a moment to survey the field of war. Body after body fell, all except in one area. A man stood above all the rest, his blade a flurry of murderous rage. Orbs of lighting flew passed him and not even a sign of fear showed in his face. Synergist after synergist dropped from his blade. He was turning the tide, and his men rallied to him.