by Meg Anne
When they landed, Ronan fought the wave of sickness that always accompanied the jump, looking for the runner. She was already gone, which meant that they were stranded here; wherever here was. It was not a place he recognized. There was only fine sand as far as the eye could see.
Ronan roared, the others jumping in surprise at the sound.
“What is it?” Effie asked, reaching for him with concern.
Beside her, Miranda stared just past his shoulder in growing horror. “I have Seen this,” she murmured.
Effie spun back toward her grandmother. “What did you See?”
Even Timmins, who usually wore a look of thinly veiled contempt when he looked at the Keeper was staring at her intently as they awaited her answer.
“Darkness and bloodshed,” she whispered.
Ronan shielded and reached for his axes, but they had been stored. He settled for clenched fists, ready to swing at the first sign of attack.
“What do you mean?” Timmins demanded. His voice held none of the disbelief it usually did when speaking to the Keeper.
Miranda blinked, appearing to return from wherever her thoughts had wandered. When she spoke, she seemed apologetic. “It is only images, nothing specific.”
“Whatever warning your vision could provide may be all the upper-hand we need to change the outcome,” Kragen said softly.
Some of the color was beginning to return to her face as she spoke. “There is a mountain, surrounded by a forest of trees. A rock breaks from the mountain and flies away. When the rock comes to rest, it is alone in a sea of sand. Darkness rolls in on every side until the rock drowns in it. When light returns all that remains is a ring of blood.”
“Not a ring. A Circle,” Effie corrected.
Miranda’s midnight eyes flew to her granddaughter, who seemed startled that she’d even spoken. Her cornflower blue eyes were wide and her hands had flown up to cover her mouth.
Haunted by her words, Ronan shuddered. If what the Keeper saw was indeed a warning, it seemed that not all of them would be walking away from whatever came with the darkness. At least not entirely unscathed. He glanced around at the others, wondering if they’d reached the same conclusion.
Each of the men looked grim but determined. Nial wrapped his arm around Serena, who looked shaken.
“So what now?” Darrin asked, his eyes ping-ponging between the Keeper and her granddaughter, as if they held more answers.
The group looked around, finally taking in their surroundings. Not that there was much to see. In every direction it was the same. Sand. Sand on the ground and sand whirling through the air carried by gusts of wind. Above them, the sun beat down, its heat punishing.
“Do you think she brought us to the Vale after all?” Serena asked.
“From everything I was able to find, that must be where we are. It’s a broken realm, its buildings predominantly in ruins after the great uprising.”
“So where are all the people?” It was Darrin who asked the question, but they’d all been wondering the same thing.
“Underground,” Joquil answered.
Ronan’s brow lifted in disbelief.
“It’s true,” Nial said. “After the uprising, none of the buildings were fit for habitation. Instead of rebuilding, believing the spirits of their ancestors would haunt anything built on the land where they’d be killed, they used their power to create a network of caverns and tunnels below ground.”
Kragen cursed softly. “How are we supposed to find an entrance to these magical tunnels?”
Nial shrugged. “I don’t think we are. They are referred to as the lost tribes for a reason.”
“Are they really lost if they know where they are and we are the ones that can’t seem to find them?” Darrin mused aloud.
The group chuckled, the philosophical question seeming out of place given the circumstances.
Ronan sighed, lifting his hand to cover his eyes as he squinted into the distance. “I’m sure Helena would have a plan to find them, but I cannot pretend to know it. Let us hope that our presence here disturbed some sort of alarm and they come to us. I cannot think of another way to find help.”
“Do you think that the Night Stalkers are behind this betrayal?” Kragen asked, purposefully avoiding Joquil’s gaze.
“No,” Ronan said without hesitation. “This was another of Rowena’s spies. They must have stayed behind after the attack on Duskfall, waiting for an opportunity like this one. No one knows where we are save the runner. It is doubtful help is on the way.”
“Should we seek shelter then?” Kragen asked. “It does not seem like a good idea to simply wait here if we are indeed about to be attacked.”
Ronan frowned as he considered Miranda’s warning and their situation. “Do you think the darkness was literal? Does the threat come with the night?”
Miranda shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s possible.”
He looked up, trying to discern the time based on the sun’s position in the sky. “At most we have eight hours before nightfall. We may not find anything in that time, but if there’s a chance we should probably take it. If for no other reason than to not be sitting ducks, remaining in the exact place the traitor left us.”
The group nodded their agreement.
“So which direction do we go?” Serena asked.
“Fuck if I know,” Ronan replied. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Let’s head west,” Effie said, surprising the others with her suggestion. It was rare for her to take charge.
“Why west?” Darrin asked.
“Doesn’t the Vale share a border with the Forest? Perhaps we are not too far away and can get back there. Or at least close enough that their scouts will see us.”
Darrin’s eyes shone with approval at her reasoning. Even Ronan had to admit he was impressed; he hadn’t even considered the possibility. “It’s as good of a reason as any, and probably better than most. If there’s a chance we could get word to the Night Stalkers, we should definitely take it.”
The others were quick to agree.
“Alright,” Ronan decided, “to the West it is. Stay alert everyone, we may be out in the open, but that means our enemies will be as well. Keep your shields up, but do not use your power more than you have to. We want to be ready when the strike comes, because there is no doubt one is coming.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ronan was wrong. When the attack came, no one saw it coming.
They had trudged through the sand for hours, no closer to finding shelter for the effort. They’d finally ended up making camp for the night right there in the open. Two days passed with more of the same. Then, on the fourth day, just as the sun begun to set, clouds filled the sky. Around them sand whipped up into the air, making it impossible to see much of anything.
Their only warning was one long keening cry before a ball of fire flew through the sky and landed at their feet. Suddenly the air cleared and Ronan could make out the black wave of Rowena’s army coming at them. It was twelve against twelve hundred, but it would have to be enough. There had been no way to get word to Helena, no one would be coming to save them.
There was no time for words of inspiration. The sound of weapons being drawn rang around him while the four wolves, Karma and Shepa among them, growled and crouched ready for battle. Ronan’s eyes caught Serena’s, both were wide with panic but when they met a feeling of calm washed through him. He saw the same peace spread across her face.
The first of the Shadows were already running for them. Nial was murmuring, summoning his considerable power to create a shield around them all. Where the Shadows made impact with the smoky barrier it sizzled, and the Shadows flew back with howls of pain. The magic ate at their skin like acid, not stopping until it reached bone.
But they continued to swarm, undaunted. It was only a matter of time before they got through the barrier. Soon Timmins and Joquil were adding their power to reinforce the barrier. Their goal to try and whittle through the n
umbers as much as possible before they had to start their own attack. The backlash of power through the barrier was not enough to kill the Shadows, but it was strong enough to eat through limbs, which made many of the abominations less of a threat.
Sweat was dripping down Nial’s face as he tried to keep the barrier up. Each blow against its surface reverberated through him and it was taking a toll. At least an hour had passed without any sign of relent. Ronan saw the moment Nial knew he’d have to let it go; the burden was becoming more than he could physically withstand. Ronan nodded at Nial, letting him know that it was okay; they were ready to take up the fight.
Ronan moved into position, and the others followed suit around him. There was no hesitation, no sign of fear. He knew this dance well. Whatever the outcome, he was born for battle. The only way he’d stop fighting was if they killed him, and if that was to be the case, he’d take down as many of the walking corpses as he could before he fell.
Ahead of him, standing on a sand dune was Rowena. She was decked out entirely in black, her dress shining like scales of armor. Her crown was twisted spikes of metal, looking more like a weapon than an ornamental headpiece. Ice filled his veins as she smiled down at him. He knew, despite the distance, that her smile was for him alone. The certainty on her face had his own lips pulling back in a snarl. Let her believe she would win this. It would make their victory that much sweeter.
Rowena made a gesture and one of the men standing beside her peeled away from the others to join the fray. But Ronan didn’t have time to be distracted by where he went.
When Nial dropped the barrier, Ronan threw his head back and screamed, pouring his rage into the sound. The others joined him, their voices becoming a bloodthirsty chorus.
The battle had begun.
Ronan soon lost sight of the others. Time lost all meaning. Nothing existed but him and the swing of his axes. Each blow was reinforced with his power, and every strike was true. He knew he was leaving a pile of bodies in his wake, but there was no end to the enemies. His only focus was to clear a path to the she-bitch waiting for him atop the hill.
That was when her general struck. Just as at the Palace, this one had corrupted power. A ball of purple-black flame grew in his hand. He threw it, aiming for Ronan. Grabbing the Shadow that was standing beside him, Ronan tossed the creature in front of him before ducking and rolling to the side. When he stood, he twisted back to see the Shadow who had become a pillar of purple flames. The flames made quick work of the body but were not extinguished once the body had been consumed. Instead they continued to burn, snaking slowly toward him.
Ronan continued to throw as many bodies between himself and the flames as possible. Soon the air was thick with pale purple smoke and there were a number of purple fires raging within the crush of bodies. At least the fire also destroyed the Shadows. It had helped take down a number of them so that Ronan could move about a bit more freely.
“Use the flames!” he shouted.
Darrin had caught up to him and nodded his understanding, ducking and ramming his shoulder into the body of the Shadow that was running at him. The Shadow flipped over him and fell on his back into the fire.
The distraction of watching the other man nearly cost him. Ronan did not see the fist that flew toward his face. He took the blow, his vision going dark as stars burst behind his eyes. Using instinct, Ronan lashed out, listening for the grunt that accompanied his ax’s impact to determine how to position his body for the next strike. He was rewarded with the gurgle of blood and the thud of a body. Blinking a few more times his vision finally cleared, although he was not entirely certain what it was he was now seeing.
Outside the swarm of Shadows tall dark shapes were beginning to form. It looked like trees, but that didn’t make any sense. There had been nothing but sand for days.
There was a shout behind him. Recognizing the voice, Ronan spun. As Serena’s face came into view he saw that it was not a shout of warning but excitement. She noticed the gathering shapes as well but knew what they were. He was too far away to hear her words but could make out well enough what her lips were saying.
It looked like she’d said, “Watchers.”
Understanding dawned. If the Watchers were here, that meant the Night Stalkers had found them. They must have been close to the border after all. He was going to make a point to give Effie a proper kiss once this was over. Assuming he lived to see the end of it. That girl had probably saved their lives with her suggestion to head west.
The horizon began to fill with shadowy shapes until it looked like the forest was descending on them. There was a shriek of outrage as Rowena took notice. He watched her face twist in anger before she called forth one of her other four generals.
“Not feeling so good now that it’s a fair fight, do you, you stupid bitch?” he murmured gleefully. With a renewed sense of purpose, Ronan moved to intercept him before he could add his twisted magic to the fray.
It was full night now, but they had not stopped. The battle had been raging for hours. Darrin could feel his body growing tired but pressed on. He was not sure how much longer he would last, but they had not lost anyone so far, and Darrin did not intend to let that change. He kept his eye on Effie, knowing that she did not have power to aid her as the others did. So far, that had not done much to hamper his girl.
She fought like an alley cat, using her small size to her advantage. She would move and twist faster than the Shadows could anticipate, dancing out of the way of their attacks and striking from behind them. He could not help the surge of pride he felt watching her take down the hulking creatures.
The wolves were coated in black blood, the pack responsible for taking down at least a hundred of the monsters on their own. They fought together, going for the throat or distracting their target so another could attack. It was hard to tell if they’d sustained any injuries, but it appeared as if at least one of them was limping slightly. Even so, it did not slow them down at all.
Joquil, Timmins, Miranda and Nial were grouped together, using their power to take down as many of the Shadows as possible. Balls of Fire would hit a Shadow to be followed by one of Water to try and stop the flames from growing out of control. So far, the Water did not seem to do anything against the purple flames that Rowena’s general kept launching. Miranda was using Air to keep the pale purple smoke away from them. Darrin’s lungs were still burning from the one breath he accidentally inhaled.
Kragen and Serena were relentless, their blades both dripping with blood. Ronan’s had been as well, but Darrin had lost sight of him shortly after his tip about the fire. That had been about the time that the Night Stalkers had arrived. The extra numbers quickly changed the tide. The blurred figures were like nothing Darrin had ever seen. They would appear behind their target, using their weapons and sometimes just their hands to rip off the heads of the creatures and then toss them into the smoking fire, before quickly blurring and moving onto another. It was impossible to anticipate where they would strike next.
The Watchers were just as incredible. Darrin wasn’t even sure what he was seeing was real when the first of the colossal tree-men moved into range. He was absolutely massive, each of his movements deliberate and slow. That did not mean they were not powerful. With each lumbering step, the Watcher crushed dozens of their enemies. Darrin had the impression of trees swaying in a storm but did not have the time to spend thinking about it. He’d barely had time to crane his head back and try to find the gnarled face etched into the upper trunk of the tree. Darrin had to force himself to look away; he’d study them later. Once they’d won this battle.
As he continued to fight, Darrin saw more of the Watchers come into focus. They would stoop down, using their branches to pick up and fling a handful of Shadows into the crowd. Often the maneuver would kill a Shadow on impact, their necks snapping with the force. More often, Rowena’s minions would pick themselves up and rush back into the fray. Still, the Watcher’s had greatly culled her force.
A high-pitched scream pulled Darrin out of his thoughts. He spun, making quick work of the two stumbling Shadows in front of him. Both looked more corpse than human, and it was not hard to remove their heads from their bodies. Once they’d fallen he saw what made Effie scream.
Ronan was battling one of the generals. It was hard to tell Rowena’s men apart unless they were using their power, but this one had long stringy hair. Its lips were twisted in some gruesome semblance of a smile and it was lifting its hand as it called on its power. There was a chittering sound coming from its gaping mouth that could have been a taunt or laughter. Darrin was too far away to tell but the sound had Ronan launching himself in the air, throwing his axes one after the other. The general stumbled as the axes made contact. One neatly shearing off an arm, while the other buried itself in its chest.
The general snarled, using its remaining arm to pull the ax free and toss it to the ground. Deep black blood spurted from the wounds, but the general did not falter. Still holding onto his power, the general released it down into the sand. That was when Darrin realized which general this one must be. Earth.
When Ronan landed, he began to sink into the mass of quicksand the Earth general had created. He sank fast, his body more than half obscured by the pit of burbling sand. Darrin started to run, intent on saving him before he was completely submerged.
Darrin was full-on sprinting, his heart thundering in his chest. He wasn’t going to make it. He was just too far away.
Beside Ronan, shadows rippled and peeled away. In their place, Reyna took shape. Her face was hidden behind the swirls of her make-up but that did nothing to obscure the look of murderous rage in her glittering green eyes. She dropped to her knees, using her considerable strength to pull Ronan out of the sand. At the same time, she flung her other arm out. Her dagger burying itself in the general’s neck. It was not enough to kill him, but it did knock him down.
With a shriek of outrage, Reyna began to stand, digging her heels into the sand and using the counterbalance to help her pull Ronan free. For a moment it did not appear that she would be successful, his body weight combined with the force of the quicksand more than a match for her. But with another shriek, she tugged again. There was a loud, wet sucking sound and Ronan surged upward before promptly falling onto the sand beside her.