“Your Grace—” I wanted to get him to say something, but Nevis ignored me and stretched his arms out. Frost burst out from beneath his feet and acted as a propulsion force. He stood atop the ice column as it grew in height and carried him back to the top of the mountain. “Nevis!” I shouted, watching him go.
“Dammit!” Scarlett cursed under her breath.
My heart sank. My stomach dropped. But it was Heron who really surprised me. “Maybe he’s thinking about it,” he muttered. “You heard what he said. He can’t burn, but his Dhaxanians will definitely fall if Blaze goes full dragon on them.”
“Even so, we can’t wait any longer,” I said, tears stinging my eyes. I was disappointed that Nevis wasn’t more responsive to our pleas, that he’d chosen the illusion of safety over basic decency and a shot at real peace and freedom. “I can smell daemons coming.”
Heron’s forehead smoothed. “How long till they get here?”
“Half an hour. Maybe less,” I replied.
“Then we can’t stick around and wait for Nevis to make up his mind. If that’s what he’s doing now,” Scarlett interjected. “We’re better off getting out of here now. We can try reaching out to him later, again, if you think there’s a chance we can sway him in our favor, Avril. Otherwise, the clock is ticking, and we have to scram.”
I nodded slowly, then looked at Patrik. “It’s your turn, Druid. That frost is molded to your humanoid form, but if you switch to snake mode, you might be able to slip out.”
Scarlett was right. Our time with the Dhaxanians had come to an end. Based on previous experiences with the daemons, they were bound to come in higher numbers than before. After what we’d done to them in the Valley of Screams, and after the havoc Jax and the others had wreaked in Infernis, we were dangerous prizes for Shaytan.
We weren’t going to deal with a handful of daemons this time. They would’ve taken precautions to make sure they could deliver us to their soul-eating king. I sniffed the air once more and got my confirmation.
There were at least two hundred of them coming for us.
Scarlett
Patrik took several deep breaths through his nose, then closed his eyes. For the first time in my life, I got to see a Druid turn into a snake, and it was quite the sight to behold. I heard bones crack and held my breath as I watched his humanoid form shrink, wiggle, and darken in its Dhaxanian frost casing.
He shifted into a medium-sized, cobra-like serpent, small enough to slither out and free himself. He slipped out of the ice and landed on the floor with a wet, sloppy thud, then looked up at me and hissed, his yellow eyes almost hypnotizing.
A minute later, he was back to his old self, his arms reaching toward the overhead tunnel—and he was stark naked. My cheeks burned, and I eventually looked away, mentally reprimanding myself for my slow reaction. Blame the Dhaxanian ice. Say it slowed you down.
I could’ve blamed whatever compound was in that ice, but I would’ve lied. I got a full view of the ropes of muscle so elegantly stretched over his torso, his strong shoulders and thighs, and that sprinkle of dark, curly chest hair that cast a mild shadow over his pecs. Patrik was stunning from top to bottom, and, for a brief moment, I felt like it was a crime against the world to keep him dressed.
Despite Avril’s understandable gawking, Heron didn’t agree. “Dude! Clothes! Ew!”
“Don’t ‘Ew!’ me,” Patrik shot back, then reached into the gaps of his ice prison to pull out whatever clothes he could grab, along with his backpack. Fortunately for him, his height and agility helped, and he managed to retrieve his pants, belt, and bag before they slipped to the bottom. “I’ve had to put up with your noise for more than a day now, from moaning and cursing to praying to the Daughters and making all kinds of promises to them if they got you out of here—promises we both know you would never be able to keep because it’s not in your nature. Two minutes of my naked body is nothing by comparison.”
Both Avril and I chuckled. He got dressed and pulled out a handful of colorful crystal powder, a proprietary blend he kept handy for instant spells. He muttered something under his breath, then sprinkled some of that powder over my Dhaxanian ice restraints. It didn’t work.
I tried to move, but I was still very much encased in Nevis’s frost. “Crap,” I sighed.
Patrik frowned and tried the spell again, but to no avail. “It’s ice. It should be melting. This isn’t right.”
“We already know by now that this isn’t regular ice,” Avril muttered. “Not sure about the other Dhaxanians, but Nevis’s frost is clearly impervious to almost everything, and, on top of that, it’s literally slowing us down.”
The sliver of hope that had blossomed in my chest started causing me pain. Patrik was free, but he couldn’t get us out. He drew his sword and tried chipping away at the ice, but it did nothing, leaving behind only subtle scratches on the outer surface. “Dammit,” he hissed, then stilled as he looked at me.
“What is it?” I asked, my heart pumping faster with every minute that went by.
“They’re getting closer,” Patrik breathed.
If Patrik, with his serpent senses, could smell the daemons coming, it meant we had only minutes to get out of here. And we still had the meranium cage to get out of—provided Patrik had enough swamp witch knowledge to disable the engraved charms. The closer we got to our daemonic doom, the more agitated we became, trying everything we could to release ourselves while Patrik tried other spells, each equally ineffective.
“Seriously, though, what the hell is this ice made of?” Avril groaned, struggling to get out.
“Had it been the work of any other Dhaxanian, you probably would’ve been free by now,” Nevis said as he descended on his icy spiral. We froze, watching him as his bare feet touched the floor, frosty snowflake patterns unraveling from every step he took. It seemed as though everything he touched turned to ice. “But my Dhaxanian blood is ancient and more powerful. I am, in fact, the last of my kind, whose frost is impervious to most outside forces, magic included.”
He didn’t look happy, though. In fact, he seemed insulted as he glared at Patrik. With one flick of his hand, Patrik was wrapped in ice again, this time tighter. He struggled to breathe, with frost covering his mouth and constricting around his neck.
“Please, stop, you’re hurting him!” I cried out.
“I didn’t give anyone permission to leave. You’ll have to forgive me if I find this entire scene particularly insulting,” Nevis shot back, his tone cold and flat.
“Your Grace—Nevis, please!” Avril interjected, her eyes glazed with tears. “You have to let us go! The daemons are almost here. Please! The lives of many innocent creatures are at stake, yours included. Your people’s lives are at stake. I beg you, don’t let the daemons win this round. I promise, you won’t be able to forgive yourself if we’re carted off to Infernis.”
“Avril, you have the spirit of a leader in you, I know it,” Nevis replied firmly. “But you don’t have the experience, and you lack the judgement to be one, at this point in time—”
“I’ll never get a chance to be a leader if you let the daemons take us!” she retorted.
“That is your choice, not mine. I made you an offer, but you declined it,” Nevis said.
“Then why are you back here now?” Avril asked, her lips tight.
Nevis blinked several times. “What do you mean?”
“Why are you down here? The daemons are literally around the corner as we speak. I doubt they need you to sign off on our departure,” Avril muttered. “Why are you down here, if not to revisit your unwise decision to hand us over to the daemons?”
“Maybe I came here to say goodbye,” Nevis replied with a faint smirk.
“Spare me!” Avril snapped, vividly infuriated. “I’m not interested in hearing the goodbyes of a delusional coward!”
A couple of seconds passed. Blood raced through my veins. I could hear the daemon boots on the ground, getting louder and closer. Painful knots forme
d in my stomach, making my breath hitch from the anxiety. This wasn’t how I’d envisioned my ending. I had an eternity ahead. Technically speaking, there was no ending for me.
“I’m impressed at how articulate you are after over twenty-four hours spent in my frost,” Nevis replied with a raised eyebrow. “Others turn into mumbling piles of meat in less than an hour. What is your secret?”
“I was right!” Heron breathed, his eyes wide. “Your ice is definitely doing something to us.”
“And yet, you’re still talking,” Nevis said, not hiding his dismay.
“We’re obviously stronger than you gave us credit for,” Avril replied, gritting her teeth. A tear rolled down her cheek, and, for a split second, it seemed to tug a string in the Dhaxanian prince’s frozen heart.
“Which is why I came down here, to…” Nevis’s voice trailed off, his gaze fixed on the tunnel opening next to Heron. A large daemon walked in, followed by a throng of armed guards.
My chest constricted, and I broke into a cold sweat. Dread stiffened my joints at the sight of our foes standing before us with vicious sneers. There were at least two hundred of them, like Avril had projected, but they didn’t all fit in this crossroads chamber. The one at the front demanded our full attention, though. He wore a military tunic with gold sigils covering the left side of his chest. Gold thread was woven in an intricate pattern, covering his horns, while his long black hair was braided down his broad back, gemstone beads covering the tips. His red eyes glimmered with satisfaction, a sentiment further detailed by the grin on his despicably handsome face. The daemons were beautiful creatures, but still too cruel, too evil to merit any praise.
“You’re early,” Nevis muttered. He didn’t sound pleased.
“I’m on a tight schedule, Dhaxanian prince,” the leader of the daemon throng replied, but Nevis didn’t seem all that impressed.
“Which one are you, though? I usually deal with Shaytan’s Council,” he said, narrowing his icy blue eyes.
“I’ll be ascending to the Council soon enough, Dhaxanian, so you’d better show me some respect. I’m Cason, tenth son of King Shaytan, and prince of daemons,” the leader replied, crossing his muscular arms.
We were definitely valuable assets to the king of daemons, since he’d chosen to send one of his sons to come get us. I could hardly breathe at this point, and my brain struggled to come up with alternative scenarios. Were they going to just pick us up, ice included? Or was Nevis going to set us free, giving us a couple of seconds of transition time? If the latter were to happen, it meant that there was still a thread of hope left.
And I was ready to pull it. I may have temporarily lost my hyper-speed because of the frost, but I could still give the daemons a run for their money.
Heron
So what you’re saying is that the king sent one of his backstabbing, underachieving offspring to collect these rare specimens?” Nevis said, feigning disappointment. Whatever his intentions were, they didn’t involve sparing the daemon prince’s feelings.
My blood boiled with rage, while my inability to do something against what was quickly becoming the beginning of our end ate away at my clarity. I’d been reduced to the role of a helpless spectator, and I didn’t like the show I was being forced to watch. It involved losing Avril, and I’d only just found her to be the single most important creature in my life. I wasn’t ready to let go. I would never be ready to let go of her.
“Mind your tongue, Dhaxanian,” Cason growled. “I’ve killed three brothers to get to where I am today. Don’t think for a second that slashing the throat of a Dhaxanian is somehow beneath me.”
“I would love to see you try,” Nevis replied with a smirk. “I’m sure your father would want a good reason as to why you decided to turn a valuable ally into a deadly enemy, just because you didn’t like their tone.”
Cason was seething, but he didn’t seem eager to follow up on that particular side of the conversation. I could hear his heartbeat, rampant and tumultuous, echoes of fear drumming through that massive ribcage of his. He sure liked to look tough, but, deep down, he was wary of the Dhaxanian prince. In fact, none of the daemons seemed thrilled to be here.
In all fairness, Nevis only needed to snap his fingers and they would’ve probably frozen to death. Daemons were creatures of heat and darkness. The ability to create ice was what had made the Dhaxanians so threatening to their species. The only thing that had worked to the daemons’ advantage in this feud had been their use of swamp witch magic.
“Glad to see you’ve kept the outsiders alive.” Cason nodded at our frosted group, measuring each of us from head to toe, as if wondering how we’d hold up against him in close combat. My fists were already itching to find out. “My father will be pleased.”
“I have no business hurting them. They are not my enemies,” Nevis replied, his hands behind his back.
“You look a little pale,” Avril interjected, narrowing her eyes at Cason. The remark caught him off guard. He chuckled nervously, shifting his focus to her.
“Are you implying something, food?” He sneered, baring his sharp fangs.
I made a mental note, right then and there, to pull them out one by one. But Avril didn’t seem bothered. Given her sensitive nose, she’d definitely caught a whiff of something, and she was exploring that avenue. The look in her eyes told me she’d yet to give up on this—on us.
“I’m not implying anything. I’m stating a fact. You reek of fear, daemon prince,” Avril replied. “I’m guessing it took a lot of courage for you to come here today. Not that I blame you. If I were a daemon, I’d want to steer clear of the Dhaxanians, too.”
Cason glowered at her for a moment, while Nevis watched the exchange with renewed interest. Whatever Avril said, it was meant to get the Dhaxanian prince on our side. Better late than never, since sooner had turned out to be so damn difficult.
“I look forward to eating your soul,” Cason said, his voice low.
Avril didn’t seem affected, though I knew the statement was definitely turning her stomach inside out. “I bet you’re sorry you killed your brothers now, huh? You could’ve sent one of them to do this, but, you know, the price we pay for power and whatnot.”
“You’re trying to say something, but all I can hear is the sound of my food talking.” Cason dismissed her, then looked at Nevis. “So how do we do this? Do you get them out of that ice, or do we lug them back like this?”
“If you take them out of here in Dhaxanian frost, you will have no way of getting them out. Only another Dhaxanian can break my ice,” Nevis replied bluntly, then snapped his fingers.
The swamp witch symbols on the cage bars lit up red, then, one by one, they slipped into the hard ground, leaving only the Dhaxanian frost restraining us.
“Your Grace, please. Please don’t do this.” Avril tried to reason with him again. “Don’t let them take us. Don’t be their stooge. Just look at how the daemon king’s son speaks to you. They have no respect for you. The only thing they have is fear. They’re afraid of you. They’re thankful you’re stuck here, on this mountain. Thankful that they don’t have to deal with you, too. That’s why Cason is quaking in his boots right now. They fear you. And, as soon as they get the chance, they will destroy you.”
Cason burst into a mocking cackle, then pinched Avril’s cheek like she was that funny little rascal who made the grownups laugh. All I could think of were ways of snapping his spine once I got out of this blasted frost. “Like I said, I’ll definitely enjoy draining the life out of you. Maybe, once you’re close to giving your last breath, thousands of years from now, rotting in a cage in my private quarters, you’ll learn to choose your words more carefully.”
“You’ll be giving your last breath before the day is over,” Avril snapped, jerking her head away with visible disgust.
“Okay, we’ve had enough fun,” Cason then said, a muscle throbbing in his jaw. Avril had definitely touched a nerve. He grinned at Nevis. “The Dhaxanian prince is an obed
ient little vassal who knows it’s in his best interest to stay on our good side. Otherwise, we’ll bring this mountain down and add the remaining Dhaxanians to our daily diet. Nevis, be a good Dhaxanian and let these worms loose. They’re ripe and ready to go to their new homes.”
Several daemons came forward carrying heavy shackles with swamp witch symbols engraved on the cuffs. I knew exactly what those things did. I’d seen them before. I’d worn them for years during Azazel’s regime. There was no way they were putting those on me. I took deep breaths and braced myself for the handful of seconds of free movement we were about to get, once the frost came off.
“What did you just call me?” Nevis replied, both eyebrows raised. His expression was one of vague surprise, and his tone was deceptively calm. I knew exactly what kind of creature Nevis was—the cool guy who kept his emotions close to his chest. Whatever he displayed on the outside was merely a fragment of what broiled beneath. I knew because I was exactly like him.
Cason frowned, seemingly confused. “What’s your problem?”
Nevis took several steps forward. Cason, though tall and proud, instinctively moved back a couple of feet. There it is. The fear. “Say it again. I dare you,” Nevis said.
“You are a vassal, and an obedient one at that. This situation here proves it. Don’t tell me you’re offended,” Cason muttered.
“Offended? Why would I be offended by the ramblings of a little daemon who will stop at nothing to make his daddy pay attention to him?” Nevis smirked. “You come to my mountain, insult me and my people, then you expect me to hand my unexpected guests over like they belong to you?”
“They’re our prisoners,” Cason hissed.
“They’re my prisoners. In my mountain. In my frost. I extended a courtesy when I reached out to Shaytan. I didn’t have to do that. I could’ve just let them go. Cason, you don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Right now, I am that hand, because we both know that if you go back to daddy without the outsiders, you’ll be joining the brothers you’re so proud to have murdered in eternal sleep.”
A Shade of Vampire 57: A Charge of Allies Page 5