Hilaros screamed and exploded at Alexander. She struck him with an open palm in the chest, tossing him back into Sachihiro. They both crumpled to the ground. Alexander couldn’t breathe.
Hilaros screamed again, the suddenness forcing the group back. Jaydan helped Alexander to his feet and the four of them huddled together, eyes fixed on the shifting creature before them.
“No!” Hilaros shouted. Alexander clutched at his ears; the sheer volume of her voice brought pain like a thousand blows. “You will all be destroyed, and it shall all be as it always was and always is. A world rises and a world falls. We are not to interfere. Forgive me what I have done and what I must now do, but order must be restored. I was a fool to think destiny could be changed. Ta’Nyah will die and all will burn!”
She contorted her body, twisting her limbs into impossible angles. Bones cracked and joints shifted. Her skin shimmered and moved like it was a million skittering beetles. Her legs lengthened and grew thick with corded muscle. She screamed again, the tone shifting into a deep roar, shaking leaves from the surrounding forest and scattering birds. Her mouth filled with thick fangs and her eyes transformed into serpentine slits.
“Is she—” Sachihiro began, but no further words were needed.
Hilaros, All-Mother of the Fae Wyld, was becoming a dragon.
She was not made of shadow or dark mist, but of iridescent scales and dense muscle. Her mouth was crowded with teeth the size of a man and her hands were twisted claws that could fell a tree. She reared back onto her hind legs and opened her mouth to the sky. It lit up with streaks of blue lightning.
Alexander fell to his knees, as did the others. Every fiber in his body shook beneath the ear-splitting cry.
Hilaros, a dragon of immense proportions, looked down at them. I must look like an ant, Alexander thought. His hand found his glaive, but he harbored no hope that it could protect him. Magic crackled to life in Jaydan’s hand. Sachihiro cracked his knuckles and spit derisively. Tannyl stood defiant and brandished the jeweled dagger.
Hilaros descended, a blast of magical energy exploding from her open jaw. Had the sun fallen in the clearing, it would not have created such blinding light and heat. Alexander was certain his eyes were still open, but all he could see was black. Everything felt numb. Was this death? Then an even more haunting realization slipped into his mind.
What of Adelaide?
Golden light bled into the edges of his vision and he once again felt in control of his body. The pain was still there. That was a good sign.
The air swam in magic. It arced all around them, encasing their position in blue-white streaks of death. Hilaros roared and the magic assault ebbed, but the golden light remained between the parties.
Alexander squinted against the glare. When he saw her, he gasped.
Adelaide looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes blazing with golden flames. She smiled and turned to face Hilaros. The dragon roared and raked the air with her thick claws.
“Ta’Nyah!” she bellowed, her voice echoing for miles. “I will cleanse this world of your defiance. You are a mistake.”
Alexander tried to reach for Adelaide, but she seemed miles away and his hand wouldn’t respond to his commands.
Golden light twisted about the small girl, flowing into sprawling ethereal wings. She floated a foot from the ground, bare feet hanging free. In her hand she held a short sword. It, too, was surrounded by golden light, lengthening the weapon beyond her own height. She carried it in one hand as if it had no weight.
Hilaros beat the air with her wings, but before she could leave the ground, Adelaide was upon her. She covered the space between them in a blinding flash of brilliant light. She was far smaller than the great creature, but spun in dizzying circles, sword flashing with attacks faster than Alexander could see.
“Was that…?”
“Yeah, Sach,” Jaydan said. “I think that was Addy.”
An explosion of magic lit up the sky and Adelaide spun out of the air, impacting the ground in a spray of dirt. Alexander ran to her and knew the others were at his back. Adelaide crouched in the trench her body had carved into the ground and readied her blade. Without turning, she held a hand up to Alexander, stopping him in mid stride.
Hilaros lunged for her, swinging a claw. Suddenly, Adelaide appeared in a different position, her sword pointing at the other side of her body. Alexander hadn’t even seen her move, but Hilaros recoiled, blood trailing from a deep gash. The dragon backed up, piercing green eyes taking in the complete scene.
Blue energy split the air, driving for Alexander. He didn’t have time to flinch, but Adelaide intercepted the attack before it could land, diverting the magic away from them like a stone parting the waters of a stream. Adelaide’s free hand was extended, acting as a shield, but Alexander could see the force of the attack driving the girl into the ground. Her bare feet pressed into the soil and as she turned her head, he saw her face twisted in a grimace.
“Addy!” he called.
Adelaide grunted and pushed against the wave of energy, rising to her full height. Her wings flared behind her, buffeting Alexander with warmth. Hilaros’s attack ended abruptly with a sharp cry, but it wasn’t Adelaide that had struck her. The dragon twisted, snapped its jaw, and swiped at a small figure near its leg. Sachihiro.
Adelaide crashed into Hilaros like a meteor. Sparks of magic shot in all directions. The dragon’s mighty jaws closed, but met only air as Adelaide spun aside, beat her wings once, and struck at the dragon’s chest. Her attack seared a smooth cut in the thick scales. A claw clipped her back and knocked her off balance for a moment. She cut at it as she dropped. Twisting, she fell into a crouch on the ground.
“Atta girl, Addy,” Sachihiro said at her side.
She regarded him through golden eyes and saw into him. For all his bluster and bravado, the man had an honest soul. Tempered and true. She saw all of him in that moment. Past, present, future. There was no such thing as time. It was something mortals constructed to make sense of their existence. The realization only endeared them to her even more.
Hilaros lifted a clawed foot and brought it down, aiming to crush Sachihiro. He saw it and dove aside, only narrowly avoiding it. He landed hard, but rolled into a crouch. He was grinning ear to ear.
“That all you got, you oversized lizard?”
Hilaros roared and swung a claw at him. He wasn’t going to be able to move in time, Adelaide knew, so she flexed her wings and launched herself into the air again. She slammed into the claw with her shoulder, deflecting its path. Sachihiro still had to duck to keep his head.
Adelaide flew back, putting some distance between her and Hilaros. She regarded the dragon with a mix of emotions. She saw Hilaros as well, and knew her for the beautiful creation she was. A creature that had always existed. But she had to protect Sachihiro and the others. They were what mattered most.
A flash of light at the ground stole her attention. Hilaros turned as well. Jaydan stood near her other leg. The small man was hurling elemental magic with everything he had. Flashes of lightning and gouts of flame snapped from his hands and assaulted the behemoth. Sachihiro was cheering as he dodged her tail and snapped quick punches and kicks to any part he could reach. Neither man could penetrate the thick dragon hide, but she knew they’d die trying.
Adelaide drove her sword into Hilaros’s jaw just as she expelled her deadly breath. The stream of magic took out a large swathe of trees and knocked the dragon off balance. Adelaide dropped under a retaliatory swipe, spun over the other arm, and fell at Jaydan’s side. She put a hand on his shoulder, cutting off his channeling.
He looked at her with weary eyes and she saw that he was killing himself in a vain attempt to protect her. She would have cursed him had she not been so moved by it. She stared into his soul, wanting to know him.
“What is it?” he asked, frowning at her.
She looked back and realized she had gasped. It hadn’t been her intention, but having seen him… No, she thought. Them. Sh
e had seen them.
“Look out!” he shouted, and pushed her roughly aside.
Still stunned, Adelaide faltered and fell to a knee. It was all she needed to regain her focus. Jaydan rolled aside and tried to stand, but his back was splayed open and retching blood. Her power surged as she knelt at his side. Hilaros roared with thick laughter and leapt into the air, her wings beating heavily at the air to keep her giant body off the ground. Adelaide could sense the Guardian’s power gathering.
The child in her wished to stall a time that didn’t exist. She pressed a hand to his back. She didn’t need to draw on the power of the world, for it already existed within her. She dipped into her own soul and created a link between them. And, with all that she was and all that she would be, she forced it into the quickly dying body opened up before her. He twitched violently as the flesh on his back stitched itself back together and new blood grew from the magic.
Just as she completed the act, Hilaros unleashed her full fury upon them.
Sachihiro saw Jaydan cut down and immediately lost his battle fervor. He ran for his fallen friend, but Adelaide recovered first and there was a bright flash of light between the ethereal child and the bleeding man. Hilaros hovered in the sky above them, each beat of her wings pressing Sachihiro into the ground. Necessity kept his heart beating and his steps sure, but he couldn’t reach them before a thick stream of pulsating energy engulfed the pair.
It was strangely quiet. The only sound that could be heard was the heavy beat of dragon wings. Hilaros held the column of magic, continuing to channel it into Jaydan and Adelaide. There was no way they could have survived. Even with whatever strange magic Adelaide commanded, Hilaros was a creature of legend. Something that shouldn’t exist. And no legend told ever ended with anything short of utter destruction.
Sachihiro’s feet were rooted in place as he watched the blades of grass surrounding the place Jaydan was lying on catch fire. Alexander began shouting and ran toward him, glaive raised, face streaked with tears. Tannyl was on his knees, farther back, face a vacant shadow. Sachihiro caught Alexander by the shoulder as he passed by. The thinner man fought hard, but had no true strength left.
“Addy,” he said.
Hilaros bit off the magic. Smoke curled from snout and nostrils. Then she roared and thrashed in the air. Celebrating. Laughing.
“Addy,” Alexander said again, but this time with a far different tone.
Surrounded by scorched soil, Adelaide was leaning over Jaydan. One hand was extended above her head, while the other rested on Jaydan’s chest. A shimmering dome of golden light winked out as she stood. Her sword appeared in her hand and she launched herself toward the dragon.
Sachihiro could see Hilaros try to react to the streaking girl, but she was little more than a stream of light. His eyes didn’t see the attack, but Hilaros fell out of the sky like a stone. Her lifeless body took out a large portion of forest, while her neck slammed into the clearing. The head landed nearby.
“Whoa,” Sachihiro said, knowing it failed to summarize the scene.
“Addy!” Alexander shouted, and took off running.
Lying in the charred grass near the slain dragon was a figure with red hair. She wasn’t moving. Sachihiro sprinted to her, arriving just after Alexander. Alexander cradled her still form in his lap and looked up at Sachihiro, eyes searching for an explanation he didn’t have.
“Whoa.”
“She’s…” Alexander said, his voice trailing off as he looked back at the girl in his arms.
The figure had long red hair, freckled cheeks, and skin nearly as flawless as a polished gem. One ear was pointed like an elf’s while the other was rounded. Her eyes were shut, but Sachihiro knew one to be golden and the other a swirl of gray. The girl Alexander held was certainly Adelaide. It had to be, he told himself. But as he continued to stare at her, the doubt and confusion grew.
The girl Alexander held in his arms was at least sixteen.
Chapter Forty-Three
THEY STOOD IN a loose circle around Adelaide for a long time in silence. Her clothes were tight on her blossomed body, revealing more of her skin than Alexander thought appropriate. Jaydan assured them that she was still alive and breathing easily. He couldn’t explain her dramatic aging, however. Or why she wouldn’t wake.
Sachihiro was the first to speak. “What do we do now?”
Jaydan shrugged, though his eyes kept jumping to the dragon’s corpse at his back. Alexander expected the giant creature to rise at any moment, but the look in Jaydan’s eye was something other than fear. He almost looked eager.
“We continue what we started,” Alexander said. “We take Adelaide to Wolverhampton and get answers.”
“I agree,” Tannyl said, drawing all eyes to him. The elf hadn’t spoken since the battle. He looked at each of them and then at Adelaide. His expression was just as hard as ever.
“All right, but how exactly do we do that?” Jaydan asked. “Any of you know how the Fae Bridges work?”
All eyes went to Tannyl again. The elf nodded. “We need to wait until the girl wakes up, and we could all use a bit of rest.”
Alexander couldn’t argue with that. With the bloodlust of battle gone, the overwhelming pain in his gut returned twofold. It was difficult to stand and even harder to breathe. The others were just as beaten, save for Jaydan. Whatever Adelaide had done to save him from Hilaros had also mended all of his wounds. In fact, the Healer looked absolutely giddy.
“I know a place we can retire for the night,” Tannyl said. “I’ll point you there. Should be safe.”
“Wait,” Sachihiro said. “You’re not coming?”
There was a faraway look in Tannyl’s eyes. “There’s something I need to do first.”
Sachihiro shrugged. “All right. Give me a hand with ‘er, Jaydan.”
Once they had Adelaide secured, Tannyl escorted them to the edge of the clearing. He pointed into the dark forest. “There are a series of carvings in the trees here,” he said. “Follow them. They’ll lead to a large tree with a tunnel cut into its trunk. There’ll be shelter inside.”
Before Alexander could question him, Tannyl moved back into the clearing, chin tucked against his chest. He still didn’t trust the elf—he held too many secrets—but the anger had faded. Something told him that Tannyl did not deserve it, or at least wasn’t worth it. The same something told Alexander that compassion would be more prudent. It was difficult to argue with one’s own certainty, so he let the feeling simmer and turned his attention back to Adelaide.
“Let’s go,” he said, leading the march with a stiff limp.
Underneath the dried kindling, he discovered the seeds lying together. Tannyl breathed a sigh of relief when he found them. Even now, they remained joined. He pressed his lips to hers and placed them both into his pocket.
He surveyed the clearing and found it difficult to find any comfort in reclaiming the seeds. There were many more that needed to be put to rest. He gritted his teeth, wiped away his tears, and set to work.
They had once been his family, but now were little more than ruined flesh. The ground was a muddy rust color, saturated with the blood of the Druids. He hated them, even more now, but they hadn’t deserved such a brutal end. He cursed himself, knowing that he had inflicted worse when he betrayed them. The clearing was a reminder of that. Even after thirty years, it was little more than a field of grass. It would remain a lasting scar, carved into the greater forest, to remind all of those that saw it of his treachery. But with the slaying of the Na’Ling tribe, he wondered who would ever witness it again.
It was his fault. As much as he wanted to deny that fact, he couldn’t. Maira had merely finished what he had started long ago. It was a task he had sworn off and a life he had let die that same day, but there was no changing it. And it was foolish to think he could ever rise above it. Some shackles weren’t meant to ever be unlocked. Some things were forever.
He forced his mind from the carnage of his failings and a
bandoned the memories. It was Adelaide his thoughts went to instead. It was clear she was much more than he had thought initially, and the others were pledged to her guardianship, though Tannyl knew none of them understood her true nature. His eyes fell on the slain dragon, confirming the notion. None of what he had seen over the past few days made any sense, but he felt inextricably linked to Adelaide and to the others. He had tried turning from it. He had tried to leave them behind. Was this where he was meant to be?
Dawn came at some point, though Tannyl took no notice of the rising sun until his task had been completed. His hands were sticky with blood and his eyes blurred from lack of sleep and endless tears. But there was no rest to be had. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
He allowed himself to stand with his face turned toward the warm light before continuing his journey. He closed his eyes. The weight of the seeds bundled together in a torn robe had the weight of the world. His guilt and regret pulled at his limbs even more. He didn’t think he had the strength to stand, much less do what needed to be done. But when he opened his eyes he was already in the forest, marching west, a prisoner in his own body.
The sun was already falling in the perfect Fae sky when Tannyl arrived at the edge of the Garden. He couldn’t recall the journey and he didn’t know why it had taken so long. He pulled the bundle of seeds to his chest and wrapped both arms around it. And then he continued walking.
The Garden wasn’t endless, Tannyl knew, but it was hard to shake the thought as he walked among the grasping vines and towering trees. Neat paths snaked through the fragrant flowers, sometimes tunneling beneath the vibrant overgrowth for hundreds of feet.
It was a place of perfect tranquility and silence. The creatures of the forest and the sky knew well enough to stay beyond the borders of the Druid resting ground. Tannyl knew he was the only living creature within the Garden, but he had never felt less alone. Every blossom, vine, and sapling held the spirit of a fallen Druid. Or so it was told. Some had risen into towering trees, sentinel and still. Others had grown into snaking vines of thorn and blossom, covering the ground. Some had been there from the beginning, others freshly budded. Each was unique, yet part of the greater whole.
The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1) Page 28