A break in the brush revealed an area of smooth rock where the wolves waited for us. They stood, chests heaving, tongues lolling to the side, and I was struck suddenly with the utter transformation – I’d never before seen them so wholly animal. How long had they been running?
The eight of us swung from our horses, landing softly on the flat stones of a now dry spring, and moved to stand before their silvery-gray forms. Finn nodded toward Rhys, and the two were off, running swift and silent through the trees beside us. They were headed for the fires. After some signal from Keaton, Steed sent the horses farther north, away from the blazes. The echo of cracking limbs and falling timbers muffled their escape, but the wind picked up and even the sounds of destruction were overcome by the rustling leaves surrounding us.
Chevelle moved beside me, as uneasy as the rest of us at the unknown, and we watched Keaton. He stood still now, eyes closed in some strange meditation, and I wondered if he was in the mind of his brother. I closed my own eyes, searching the forests, but the birds were gone, fled from the danger. A light brush of something else distracted me, but then my eyes shot open at the sound of a snapping branch nearby.
Finn burst back into the opening, Rhys steps behind.
“Rowan,” Rhys said. “They’ve found Rowan and he’s hunting Junnie, trying to burn her out.”
“What? Why?” I stammered.
Rhys shook his head. “I don’t know, but he’s cursing her to the flames. He’s vowed to kill her.”
Chevelle stiffened. “Is he alone?”
“No,” Rhys answered. “We couldn’t get close enough to see without being spotted, but he’s definitely got at least one with him. He was shouting orders.”
Keaton growled.
I glanced briefly at the wolf as my next question came. “Why isn’t she fighting? Or running?”
Anvil stepped forward. “If she were pinned down, that filthy son of an imp wouldn’t be burning these groves.”
“So he doesn’t know where she is,” Rider said. “But why is she hiding?”
Finn pawed the ground at my feet with an insistence that made me pause. I cursed.
The others focused on me, plainly unsure what to make of it. “The baby,” I explained. “Junnie’s protecting the human.”
“Why would Rowan care about the baby?” Steed asked.
My brows pulled together, but before I could answer, an explosion of flame erupted less than a hundred yards south of us.
A furry shoulder nudged my leg and I glanced down at Finn. He was trying to tell me something, but the brush of something against my mind prickled my skin.
“We have to get Junnie,” I said, ignoring the worry snaking its way through my gut. Before the others had a chance to respond, I was running toward the flames.
I could hear the others behind me, following as I bore down on that connection. It was different, less lucid and harder to grasp, but I could pin down its location. Her location.
Keaton bounced in front of me as we ran, but I didn’t slow. There was an urgency now, a strong sense of pain and fear coming through the link. I had to get to them. Flames erupted beside us, and I heard the voice. Rowan called to Junnie, taunting her with death and suffering. He couldn’t be more than a hundred yards from us, and Junnie was hiding in between.
It was surprising Rowan hadn’t found her already, but from the sound of his tirade, he’d clearly been driven to madness. He must have been pushed; something must have caused him to break. I thought of the wolves and their recent absence just as they leapt to a stop in front of me, muzzles pulled back in a snarl.
I stopped, crouched down, and turned my face away as the blaze exploded before us.
“There,” I whispered, staring back into the flames, “Junnie is in there.”
Without a word, Ruby vaulted over the brush and into the mass of trees. Junnie had formed them perfectly, a natural barrier of oak and pine so solid they would have to be destroyed to reach her. And they were being destroyed now.
Heat burned my face as I watched the smoke and flame rise. Rowan’s voice echoed through what was left of the forest, promising Junnie’s death to the inferno. I wanted to shut him up. Permanently.
Two more heartbeats and the flames began to waver. I took a breath, knowing Ruby had her. Had them. Chevelle’s hand grasped my arm, but I couldn’t look away. I had to be sure.
The instant Ruby pushed through the trees, the rest of us turned to run. The blaze had parted for her, obeying her talent as water on a current, and she broke through with Junnie in tow. The bundle in Junnie’s arms was safe, though mildly singed , and the relief at knowing Junnie was alive was only surpassed by the relief of finally knowing she wasn’t the one. Junnie had not been a part of the attacks on me; all doubt over the responsible party was gone. And my bargain with Veil would be a good one.
I wasn’t certain where we were running to, where Rhys and Rider were leading us, but as we crossed a low ridge, two massive silver wolves crashed into me, knocking me solidly off my feet. We were not airborne for long, as my back slammed into a bank of dirt, eighty pounds of Keaton’s furry body landing on top of me. He chuffed, I gasped, and we both rolled to the side to cough air back into our lungs.
A kind of roar escaped someone on the ridge, and I forced my head up to find Chevelle. He stood before a barrier of flame, which I assumed was more of Rowan’s doing until I saw Ruby. Her body was rigid as she poured so much power into the wall, though I couldn’t bring my mind to comprehend her motives. A soft whine came from the wolf beside me and I followed his gaze to find Finn lying still among the ground ivy.
I crawled to him, relieved to see his chest heave with breath, and ran my hand over his side, searching for broken bones. Finn’s head raised, the silver-blue of his eyes meeting mine with more emotion than any ordinary beast could hold, and I understood. He’d taken a strike.
His nose twitched and pointed toward his shoulder. I brushed the fur aside, searching for the wound. There was a clean, small puncture directly beside the bone. I stared back into his eyes, knowing the pain I would cause when I turned him over, and lifted his legs to roll the other shoulder free. I glanced over my own shoulder, finding Keaton’s back to me as he stood guard. Anvil and Grey remained on the ridge by Ruby, Rhys and Chevelle were running toward us.
As I looked down once more, my hand crossed the point of something sharp on Finn’s side. I pulled my hand back, pressing the finger I’d pricked, and a drop of blood formed over the ash from Finn’s coat. I looked up at Chevelle as his boots landed beside me and he bent down to slide a hand around the base of my arm. But he wasn’t looking at the blood. He was looking at Rhys’s hand, which now held the weapon that had pierced Finn’s shoulder. The bitter tang of poison reached me through the shock, and my stomach turned as I stared at the spear of steeled ice.
Chapter Twenty-four
Blood and Bone
The hand gripping my arm pulled me to standing and Chevelle pressed my finger to his mouth. He turned his head and spat, and then nodded once, apparently satisfied it had not tasted of poison.
He glanced over my shoulder at Rhys. “Move him to the pines. We will free Ruby.”
My mind whirled, attempting to catch up, and I realized why Ruby had created a wall of fire. My feet were moving without thought. Finn would need her. We would face the ice.
“Ruby,” I shouted over the noise. Wind whipped the top of the ridge, and then was pulled into the inferno to strengthen the flame. The overcast sky had gone dark grey, bruised with purple and blue. Light flickered through the clouds and I glanced over Ruby’s shoulder at Anvil as the exposed skin of my arms prickled.
“Frey,” she whispered, not looking away from her barrier.
Her outstretched arms trembled and I placed a hand on the one nearest me. “Let it go, Ruby. Finn needs you.”
She swallowed, nodded, and dropped her arms. The fire remained as she glanced at me, and then fell to nothing when she turned away.
An
vil, Grey, Steed, and Rider stood alongside Chevelle and me atop the ridge. Barrier gone, we could see Rowan calling to the skies. I dared not look for Junnie, who lay at the base of the bank behind us, protecting the child. The wind was cutting without the heat of the flame. And though thunder rolled across the clouds, Rowan’s words still reached my ears.
“Kill them. Asher’s throne will be yours.”
For a moment, I couldn’t understand. But then I realized the flicker of light above had not been lightning, but a fey.
“Down,” I yelled, rolling from the edge of the ridge onto its slant.
Several shards of solid, toxic ice pierced the earth where we’d been standing, driving through both soil and stone. I glanced up as the attacker dove past and saw dark wings, adorned with flecks the yellow-orange of a monarch. Suddenly, a burst of power struck and I spun away as rock and dirt exploded beside me. I got to my feet to see Rowan cursing and spitting.
Chevelle and Steed remained on the slope near me, the others spread among the top of the ridge and opposite side. I hoped Junnie was no longer alone.
Chevelle flung a strike at Rowan, but he moved too swiftly and remained unharmed.
Steed eyed the air above us. “So that’s the ice boy, eh?”
“Not for long,” I answered, narrowing my gaze on the tiny bit of orange visible against the dark clouds.
Before I released a blow, the slim black wings opened and the fairy was diving toward me once more. I hadn’t planned on killing him, merely stunning him to the ground to capture and explain Rowan’s folly, Asher’s madness, so I only allowed a small measure of power into the assault.
When it reached the winged beast, he froze midflight, twisting and writhing, and then jerked against my energy. I believed him to be struggling to overcome the blast, but then Rowan laughed from his vantage point across the charred field and I realized what was happening. I pulled frantically back, trying to draw the energy in, but it was too late. I hadn’t thought it possible, hadn’t believed this half-blood fey was strong enough. He was stealing my power.
“Take cover,” I screamed, severing the tie, and the dark fey beast shrieked a hideous cry.
Steed threw himself against me and Chevelle leapt in front of us both, blocking the debris from the barely missed blast. I gritted my teeth at being knocked once more from the path of destruction so violently, and found my feet again. Rowan used the opportunity to take another shot at me, which infuriated me so severely I sent an excess of power his way. Somehow it missed and a crater appeared in the dirt.
“He’s like a snake,” I seethed.
Emboldened by his victory, the dark fey floated closer. “She is not so formidable, Rowan.” His head tilted to the side as he examined me from the air, purposefully out of reach. “If not for Father’s strength, she would be nothing.”
“Stop wasting time, Sian,” Rowan yelled from his position of safety. “Kill her.”
The fey smiled then, and his face changed. He was no boy, but a man. He was slight and thin, but signs of age lined his face. His long black hair was fine and dull, and the papery wings were tattered and fraying.
“Sian,” I whispered, wondering if Chevelle knew the meaning of the name.
His palm brushed my back and I knew he did. The second.
Asher had planned this all along. Vita had been the first, a unique and powerful light elf, and had borne Aunt Fannie. But he hadn’t stopped there, when she’d been a disappointment he’d moved on to the fey. My mother must have been born after those attempts. And maybe he’d even given up on others for a while when she’d shown promise.
But this was Asher’s second attempt, and blatantly named as such.
I could see him there, in this fey’s eyes, and the resemblance made my stomach turn.
“It doesn’t have to end this way,” I offered. “You have been misled.”
Sian’s mouth bent into a smirk. “She is afraid, Rowan. She knows she will die.”
Anvil chose that moment to step over the ridge and when Rowan commanded, “End it,” the skies came alive with light.
“No,” I yelled. But it didn’t come in time.
My skin pricked and chest tightened an instant before the deafening crack tore from the sky. Anvil had thrown everything into the attack, and the lightning gathered among the clouds for one long second before threading into several strands that tracked straight for the fey. A blinding flash lit the air around us, followed by an instant of dead silence before the explosion.
Sian had fallen from the sky, but he was far from lifeless. His body thrashed and shook, his chest heaved in a few wicked coughs. And then the screeching sounded again. This time it pierced our ears, strangled at first, but quickly stronger, louder… chilling.
Steed cursed.
I’d no more than began to process what had happened when a large, wet raindrop splatted against my cheek. My head tilted back automatically, and several more landed on my face and chest. I drew in a breath, but Chevelle was already calling out the command.
“Run!”
Suddenly, the air was empty, vacant as Sian drew in the moisture from around us. My feet scrambled for purchase on the slope, now littered with dips and rubble from the conflict, and I looked for the ridge above. The eerie hollowness of the air was intensified by silence, the sudden lack of thunder and wind, and I knew we didn’t have long.
Anvil grabbed my arm, pulling me over the ridge, and I caught sight of the trees ahead, lifeless as their leaves had abruptly stilled. I felt the power build and release behind us, but could do nothing to stop it.
Anvil had felt it too, and we were spinning, turning to face the coming onslaught. The others were behind us, and I met Chevelle’s eyes for one brief moment before he turned to shield me.
Steel rained down upon us. The ice didn’t carry the tang of poison, but it was death. Blades of hardened water shone like glass, flying toward us in an endless assault. We could do nothing to Sian, could not give him more power to use against us, could only watch as he laughed and cackled a scream.
We crouched, huddled together on the edge of the ridge, Steed and Chevelle in front of me, Anvil and Rider at my sides. Grey had disappeared. We blocked every shard we could, but they were razors, cutting the air with no more than a whisper of sound until they pierced the earth around us. Steed flinched as one caught his arm, and I saw another connect with Rider. Blood dampened my cheek an instant before I felt the blade thin shard brush against it.
Sian raised his arms to the sky and the ice turned to daggers, great crystal spikes in the form of a hailstorm. Anvil was knocked back as a spear took him in the shoulder and then Steed faltered as one planted deep into his leg. Chevelle cursed as he tried to pick up the momentary lapse in our shield.
A solid thump rang through my bones before my ears picked up the zzzshk of a too-close shard and I looked down to find a spear of ice lodged in the side of my chest.
A squeal of delight erupted from the dark fey elf and I glanced up in time to see him dancing in triumph. Numbly, I watched as he spun to a stop and smiled back at me. The ice had stopped too, and the others fell slightly away as they turned to see what had his attention.
Chevelle had gone white. He reached up as if to touch the blade but stopped, instead staring into my eyes. I became very aware of our surroundings, the sudden silence amplifying the chaos. The ridge was destroyed. My guard lay bleeding around me.
Sian would overtake us. Any strike against him would be not only be useless, it would be returned tenfold.
We were hurt. Hopeless.
Finn and Keaton howled from somewhere among the pines.
And then I saw it, there in Chevelle’s sapphire eyes. He hadn’t given up.
Suddenly, a jolt ran through me. Chevelle hadn’t left the blade in my chest because there was no chance. He had left it because I was still breathing. The ice hadn’t pierced my lung, but was embedded in the muscle between my chest and shoulder joint. My leather would hold it there, keeping m
e from further damage, and it wasn’t poisoned.
It was, however, the only thing keeping Sian from continuing the attack.
I kept my face slack, letting him think it was shock as my eyes took in the scene. It would be a brief reprieve, regardless, but there had to be some way, some thing we could do to fight him.
There was the barest sound from the base of the ridge behind us, some small shifting of stone, and then abruptly a large grey wolf stood beside us. Keaton had bounded onto the demolished earth of the ridge, paws clattering the sharpened ice against stone, and growled viciously toward Sian.
His muzzle was still pulled back in a snarl when he turned to us, but his eyes shone bright. The wolf looked first at Rider, then me. When he was certain he had my attention, he moved his gaze slowly to Chevelle.
I couldn’t say how long it took for the message to sink in, but when Keaton finally got through, I nodded. I reached forward to clasp Chevelle’s hand.
“The power,” I whispered, “hold it for me.”
His eyes never left my face as I directed the energy to release. I could feel the line as it stretched within me, as it fell to Chevelle, and as it ran free to its target.
The impact threw Sian off his feet to land soundly in the ash behind him. A puff of dust rose from the destroyed trees and then settled around him as he writhed and moaned. He struggled to control the power, but as he wrapped himself fully around it, the energy would not work free. He let out a high-pitched keen and then his neck snapped up to look at us.
There was no way he could tell, no possibility he would understand, but Sian knew something had changed. He fought to his knees, twitching and jerking, and tried to center his focus.
He pulled harder against it, struggling to wrench the energy free, but it only stretched thinner. Through our connection, I could feel Chevelle now as he anchored the power. I’d had no control over Asher’s power alone, but it was steady now fastened within our bond. And our target was growing weaker.
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