by Chloe Jacobs
She glanced gratefully at Greta. “I didn’t know your aim with throwing knives was so good,” she called.
Greta grinned and knocked back another gnome. “It’s not,” she called over her shoulder. “You’re lucky I hit him at all. That dagger could easily have impaled you instead.”
Siona laughed. When Greta glanced back at her, she tossed Greta another sword. Greta dropped the first one and caught it. This weapon was slim and lightweight. It was still longer than she was used to, having been snatched off a faerie, but it was as close to the one she’d lost over the edge of the cliff as she was likely to find.
She laughed, too, as she gave it a practice swing and saw the two remaining gnomes’ eyes fill with fear. When she moved again, she was fast and sure.
Not three minutes later, the two of them stood together, breathing heavily. Siona’s eyes were bright, and she was grinning, a grin that probably matched Greta’s exactly. She bent to swipe the blood off her new sword on the trousers of a dead gnome.
A few weeks ago, she would have felt guilty for the deaths she’d just caused, and if she’d been facing anyone else, she would have tried harder to find a different way out. As of last night, she no longer wanted to hunt the Lost, or anyone else. She wanted to save them. She was going to save them. But this was different. The destruction that Agramon and his army had spread across this world deserved retaliation. Isaac’s people deserved to be avenged.
At the base of the mountain, so close to the edge of the goblin forest that she could smell the smoke, Greta pulled them both to a halt yet again.
“More of Agramon’s soldiers,” Siona whispered.
She nodded, but something else was going on with this group. She heard both laughter and frightened cries.
They crept ahead another few paces and silently crouched behind a boulder. Five gnomes, but only one faerie this time. He was closest to them, leaning up against a tree trunk with his arms crossed and his back to them as he watched the commotion a few feet ahead. She peered around him and realized that the gnomes had gathered in a circle and were tormenting a young goblin boy. She gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth. Siona looked at her sharply, then grabbed her arm and dragged her back into the woods.
“What was that? You almost gave us away,” she said with a frown.
“That boy. I know that kid,” she said, stunned. “Last night he was Lost.”
“What are you talking about? He was Lost? How do you know him?”
“Last night when I was asleep, I saw that same boy, but…he was Lost. I touched him and he seemed to recover for just a moment. He was able to communicate with me, but when I let go, he started to turn again, and I thought I had failed.”
“Well, he isn’t Lost now. You must only think you dreamed of him. Or perhaps your mind remembers him from your time as a bounty hunter, and—”
“No, that’s not it,” she said fiercely. “I know I’ve never met that boy in person. And I know that he was Lost yesterday and now he’s not.”
“Even if you dreamed of him, it doesn’t mean that he was Lost…”
“He was, Siona. I would swear my life on it,” she snapped. “And I don’t think it was actually my dream. I think it was his.”
“That makes even less sense.” Siona’s voice rang with exasperation and impatience.
Greta shook her head. “Actually, you’re wrong. It makes perfect sense. Isaac told me that when his power returned to him, he felt all his people’s wishes flooding in at once. They had cried out for his help when the attack on the goblin kingdom came, but he wasn’t there and they went Lost.”
Siona’s lips pressed together in a thin line that reeked of more guilt.
“The point is, that they are all connected to him now through their wishes.”
The goblin hunter’s face bloomed with sudden understanding. “And you think that your bond with him makes them connected to you, too.”
“It’s the only explanation.”
“But even if the connection is actually possible, they are Lost. How can you speak to them in their dreams and make them understand, when no one can do so in the waking world?”
“I don’t believe that being Lost automatically invalidates their wish. If it’s truly a desire of the soul, then that’s a big deal. That sticks with a person. The Lost might lose control over themselves, but they don’t lose their souls. I know it because Isaac didn’t. He was still Isaac at the core. Just wilder, disoriented, confused, angry. He was…lost, and he needed someone to show him the way back to himself.”
“Okay,” Siona said. She finally sounded willing to accept the possibility. “So you have a way to connect to them. What do you do with that?”
Her mind raced as the implications of this ability set in. “I think that when they’re dreaming, like all of us, their true self is exposed, and when I entered that boy’s dream, that’s what I was really talking to, his soul. What if I could do for everyone what I did for Isaac? What if none of the Mylean people had to stay Lost anymore? What if they could all return to their families?”
Siona raised her eyebrows. “What if they could return to help us fight this war?” she said. There was still a heap of doubt in her tone, but she looked at Greta with wide, hopeful eyes.
“We have to go back and save that kid.”
Siona nodded. “I’ll slip around to the other side and attack the gnomes to give you a chance to take down the faerie and carry the goblin boy to safety.”
It worked exactly as they planned, except for the part about Greta taking down the faerie. He heard her coming and spun around—
Greta stopped in her tracks. This wasn’t just any faerie. It was Dryden, the personal protector of Leila and Byron, the faerie prince and princess.
Alarmed, Greta raised her sword, wondering if she was about to be blasted with faerie magick, or if Siona was smothering Dryden’s power. Nothing happened.
Dryden didn’t look surprised to see her.
She glanced nervously over his shoulder to where Siona leaped out from the cover of the dense evergreens into the thick of the jeering gnomes. Had Siona noticed the faerie’s identity yet, or had she already known that Dryden would be here? Was this a set-up? Had she lied and been communicating with the faeries this entire time through the hive-mind thing, leading Greta right into their clutches?
Damn it, no.
Siona said she couldn’t sense the faeries at all since returning to Mylena. They were friends. She wouldn’t have lied. She wouldn’t have done that.
She’s done it before.
That was different. That was before. Greta had made a conscious decision to forgive her and to trust her again. With her life, with Isaac’s life. With everything. She couldn’t be that wrong about a person.
Dryden quickly went for his sword. She gave a cry as her steel clashed with his, and the reverberation traveled painfully up her arm to her shoulder.
By the Great Mother, he was strong. Stronger than she remembered.
She swung her weapon, staying in control. She caught him with a thin slice across the cheek, and he gasped. The ice was there, flashing in his eyes and sparking from his fingertips, but it didn’t touch her.
They danced around each other. Greta almost lost her hand to his next jab, but she shifted in time and managed a clumsy block. Her only saving grace was that he couldn’t use his other skill against her, that piercing, icy magick. Greta caught a glimpse of Siona’s face as she threw one of the gnomes to the ground. She was focused on hobbling Dryden’s magick.
What a stupid time to feel relief, but it flooded her nevertheless. No, her friend hadn’t known that he would be here. She wasn’t still in league with the faeries.
Dryden caught her by the heel with his boot and tripped her. She went crashing down onto her back, knocking the air out of her. Before she could take a full breath, she dove to the left to avoid his boot in her face, eating dirty snow and then rolling again before jumping back up to her feet.
She stag
gered to a halt. Dryden held his sword tip pointed less than an inch from her throat. He looked pointedly at the weapon in her hand until she dropped it with gritted teeth.
“Call Siona to me,” he muttered in a low voice, his lips barely moving. His gaze darted left and right quickly, as if he were expecting someone else to jump out of the trees.
“Screw you,” she spat. Nothing he could do would make her call her friend over here to be massacred by him.
His eyes flared, and he grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and spun her around with his arm wrapped around her throat and the flat of his sword across her belly. Then he called Siona’s name and waited for her to turn and see what he had for her.
Siona gasped and faltered. There were only two gnomes left, but they both grinned and took advantage of her hesitation to grab her. They dragged her forward. The faerie warrior shoved Greta. She crashed into Siona. They clutched each other, staring into the icy fire of Dryden’s eyes.
She braced for the final attack, ready to fight hand-to-hand until her last breath. But when he moved, it was a blur, and he didn’t go for her or Siona…he cut each of the gnomes’ throats in one wide, smooth arc of his blade.
Greta gasped and jerked back.
When he looked at her without an ounce of emotion on his face as if it hadn’t even happened, her mouth dropped open in shock. “What the hell!?”
The faerie dropped to his knees before her. He placed his sword down flat on the ground in front of her feet. “I swear fealty to the goblin king and queen,” he said quickly in such a low voice it barely reached her ears. “If you are to accept my service, then you must hurry.”
“Accept your what?”
Now he looked almost afraid, and he glanced up at Siona, eyes shining with a plea for…something. “Please, hurry.”
“Hurry and do what?” she asked, bewildered.
“Save me,” he whispered. His hand snaked out and grabbed Siona’s like a vice around her wrist.
“Hey, let her go!” Greta yelled, diving for the sword at her feet and pointing it at him. He didn’t even look at her. Siona stared at him, horror falling over her face like a dark cloud.
“What is it?” Greta asked. Siona didn’t respond, and she turned back to Dryden. He was transfixed.
She punched him in the face as hard as she could. His head cracked back, but he didn’t let go of Siona, and so she did it again. This time his hand fell away, and his head drooped until his chin touched his chest. He leaned back on his heels, and his whole body seemed to wilt.
She held the sword on him and turned to Siona, touching her arm. “Are you okay?” Siona nodded. “What was that all about?”
“Dryden wants me to free him.”
“From what?”
She swallowed hard. “Agramon doesn’t have the complete support of the faerie race. When the demon consumed Queen Minetta’s soul, he also gained all of her power.”
Understanding dawned, and she looked down at Dryden’s bowed, defeated posture. “The demon has control of the hive and each of their abilities. Crap, but that also means he knows what all of them know! He knows where we are.”
Dryden looked up. “There is a lag,” he said. “But it won’t give us more than another few moments. You must sever my connection quickly. If you do not, then the demon will know. He will know you are here and how to find you. He’ll send everything he has—all of Mylena. You won’t last the night.”
She didn’t know what freaked her out more: the fact that tight-lipped Dryden had put together more than two words in a row or the fear and urgency that bled from his very pores. For this guy to be so afraid…it sent a chill up her spine.
“You’re saying you actually want us to kill you,” she said, still doubtful.
He glanced at Siona.
She crossed her arms. “No, he wants to join us,” she said, tense. “He wants me to break his connection to the hive.”
“In return, I will follow your cause,” he said.
Greta laughed. “Are you serious? You honestly think we’re going to trust you?”
Siona swallowed. “I’m fairly certain he’s telling us the truth. I didn’t mention it to you sooner, but although I did not feel the connection to the hive since our return, I have felt…probing, as if Agramon is out there searching for me, trying to force the connection, probably because he knows it will lead to you. The feeling is slick and dark, like a snake slithering all over me, tightening and looking for an opening.”
Greta shivered. That’s exactly what it felt like to have Agramon’s evil inside her. It was a feeling she would never wish on anyone. Not Siona, and not even Dryden here. “I’m not saying you should, but can you break him free of the hive?”
“I should be able to, but if Agramon realizes what is happening before it is done, he could fight back and Dryden would be caught in the middle.” She looked at him pointedly.
He nodded. “I am willing to take the risk, and if the connection cannot be severed”—he looked up at her with cold acceptance—“then you must kill me.”
Greta swallowed. “You can count on it,” she said, although she found herself hoping it wouldn’t be necessary. The misery in every line of Dryden’s face struck a chord with her. Yes, he had played a significant role in releasing Agramon back into Mylena, but he hadn’t known that at the time. He’d simply thought he was facilitating Byron and Leila’s plan to take over the faerie throne. He’d been as unaware of the consequences as everyone else. The truth was, nobody could have foreseen Agramon, or the terrible destruction he would wreak on the world.
“What if the connection can be severed? Have you ever been separated from the hive?” she asked, remembering what Siona had said about the desolation that had almost consumed her when she was cut off from the rest of the faerie race. “It’s going to be one hell of a shock, and I can’t afford for you to become a liability.”
“I will manage.”
She looked into his face and made a decision. “All right, do it,” she told Siona.
The goblin hunter closed her eyes. Dryden did, too. Greta kept her sword on him just in case.
After a moment, his face twisted. He planted both hands flat in the snow and bent over himself, as if in pain. But he didn’t say a word. Siona gasped as a drop of blood fell from her nose and stained the snow. Dryden lifted his head. Blood trickled from his nose, his eyes, and his ears, and his jaw was clenched so tight she thought he might crack.
“Siona,” she said, reaching for her friend’s hand and holding on with a death grip. “Siona, don’t kill yourself over this. I can…I can finish it for you.” She shifted her grip on the sword in her other hand, but Siona shook her head. Her shoulders fell, and she collapsed to her knees in front of the faerie warrior.
“It’s done,” she muttered, swiping the blood from her nose.
“Are you sure?” Greta asked. “We can’t afford—”
“I’m sure of it.”
Dryden reached out and put his hand on her arm. “Thank you,” he said weakly.
The goblin hunter nodded, but her gaze was cold and hard. “Don’t make me regret it. I won’t betray my king and my queen ever again. I’ll die…or I’ll kill you…before I let that happen.”
Dryden looked up at Greta, the lines of blood on his face still showing stark against his skin. “You have my honor, and you have my life.”
She wasn’t at the point of agreeing that he had any honor, but that queen title had been used more than once in the last few minutes, which got her trying to think like someone who was responsible for a kingdom, someone trying to coordinate an army. The reality was that they could use all the bodies they could get to stand up against Agramon, especially ones with some experience in battle.
“We’ll be keeping our eyes on you,” she warned. “But if you’re serious about swearing fealty, then I will accept your oath on behalf of the goblin king.”
She bent to pick up his sword and handed it back to him, despite the solid mass of do
ubt in her gut. Siona wasn’t the only one who couldn’t afford to regret this decision.
Dryden struggled to get to his feet. His legs buckled under him, and Siona helped him up with an arm around his waist.
“I think we better get out of here, fast,” Greta said, glancing behind her. “Just in case the demon did get something from you before the connection was broken.”
She’d almost forgotten about the goblin boy, until she saw the bodies Siona had left behind. “Where did he go?” she asked.
“The boy?” Siona shrugged. “I don’t know. I told him to run when I intervened to dispatch the gnomes.”
Damn it. She’d wanted to talk to him and ask if he remembered being Lost, if he remembered dreaming about her. She searched the snow and found his bare-footed tracks easily enough. The boy hadn’t known enough to hide them.
“Stay here. I’ll go after him alone. After what he just went through, if he sees Dryden before I have a chance to talk to him, he’ll probably scare himself into going Lost again.”
In five minutes, she found him huddled beneath an outcropping of rock behind some hastily stacked twigs, shaking like a leaf…but he didn’t seem in any danger of going Lost.
“Hey, are you all right?” she called gently. “The gnomes are gone and it’s safe now.”
He looked up at her, and the recognition was there in his face, along with a lot of fear and confusion. Still, he knew her.
She felt a rush of hope and held out her hand to him with a smile. “Why don’t you come with us?”
He looked at her hand, then back up into her face. “Was I Lost?”
So he remembered that, too.
“I think so,” she said, “but you found your way back, and that’s all that matters.”
“And the goblin king? He’s really alive?”
She nodded. “We’re on our way to him now, and I’m sure he could use your help when we get there.”