by Lisa Morgan
From behind a hill I saw a flash of light, exceptionally bright and gone as fast as it appeared. The flare was followed by a low, sonic-type boom. Then another flourish, another delayed boom. Suddenly, the flashes started coming in quick succession followed by the noises in rapid fire, like watching a summer thunderstorm approaching.
“They’re coming!” a soldier called out, startling my horse into another frantic dance. The horn bellowed and a battle cry rose through the ranks, carried from the front lines to the rear in a wave.
Michel had explained to me that during the planning session, the king had agreed I’d remain near Luc’s forces to keep safe. It was King Edwyn’s hope that this could be won without the intervention of my yet obviously unstable powers, but he wished to have me close should I need to enter the fray. I was, quite literally, The Realm’s last resort weapon.
Looking one final time for Michel without success, I pulled the reins of my horse and made an unsteady dash toward his brother. The vampire prince made no motion as I approached him, keeping his hands on his hips as he sat atop his own horse and his focus forward toward the bursts of illumination.
Though I hadn’t done the actual running, I asked Luc breathlessly, “What’s happening?”
He didn’t look at me. Reaching blindly into his saddle bag, he pulled out a small tube. With a flick of his wrist, the tube lengthened to a telescope. Luc stretched his arm to mine, offering the spyglass. When I hesitated, he finally spared me a glance.
“You’ll need to see this for yourself,” Luc managed through shaky words; words that betrayed his stoic expression.
Was that fear in his voice? I wondered, not trying to disguise my thoughts as I took the instrument he offered me.
As he continued to watch me, I put the device to my eye, looking in the direction of the flashes and squinting my unused eye to help focus. I moved the cylinder, scanning over the army of The Realm as they stood silently with their gazes fixed in the direction of the light’s origin, continuing to try and find what it was Luc saw so clearly with his heightened vision.
Following the troop’s stares, I lifted the telescope a little high, catching sight of the flashes over the horizon, and I found what Luc had warned me of.
Hundreds, maybe thousands, of hooded figures slowly floating over the grass in neat rows and columns, heading toward our army. For each of the cloaked figures that stalked forward, a pair of luminescent, mustard colored eyes glared from beneath their hoods.
I lowered the telescope, it unexpectedly growing too heavy to hold any longer under the weight of what I’d seen. I peered off in the direction I’d been looking at, now seeing them approaching like a grey cloud without the device’s aid.
“My God,” I gasped in disbelief. I looked to Luc, hoping he’d say something, anything, to make my fear vanish or reassure me that everything was going to be okay.
The vampire watched my face, studied my eyes. He was searching for those very words to comfort me, but there was nothing he could offer to minimize the terror I was feeling.
I was proved positive by the expression on his face and by the way he reached his hand out to take mine as he finally spoke.
“Whatever happens, Maggie, stay behind me. Don’t try to be a hero, and don’t draw attention to yourself,” he ordered in seriousness, squeezing my hand.
I nodded, horror consuming every inch of my body. My horse felt it and pranced from side to side again listlessly.
“And I promise you,” Luc finished, gesturing to one of his troops to take the reins from me and move my position to the back of his lines, “I will keep you safe, even at the cost of my own life.”
I knew he meant it by the fierce promise in his green eyes as the soldier led my horse away. I turned back before I’d lost sight of him. I saw the concern on Luc’s face as he watched me moved to a safer location. I swear I could even feel his struggled exhale as if it was my own.
Then, as clearly as if I were standing before him, I saw his eyes morph to those feline pupils as he raised his swords, finally turning from me. He lifted the weapons skyward and roared, his soldiers repeating the battle cry.
The cry began to ring out from the ranks of the army, like a rising tide during a full moon. I slid off the horse and watched, dread leaving a bitter taste in my mouth, as the army of The Realm surged forward to meet the enemy.
Thirty Three
The passage of time on the battlefield was misleading; it moved rapidly forward, but to me it was at a snail’s pace. In the distance I heard the sound of metal meeting bone as the armies waged war, trying to strike one another down. I could hear cries of agony from the lines, sounds that would be the last some would ever make. Those sounds would stay with me, haunting my nightmares, for whatever days I had remaining.
I listened over the fray as Luc barked commands to his troops, ordering large, oily balls into the catapult-like weapons and igniting them just prior to releasing them into the hostilities. I watched the flaming bullets fly into the crowd, willing them to connect with their intended marks.
I witnessed healers scurrying past, the injured or dying carried out of the fighting on simple litters. Many of them tried to get off of the bloodied stretchers that took them from the battle, proclaiming they could fight on. One vampire, a sword jutting from his stomach, insisted he’d be fine. I found myself searching each as they jogged past, praying I wouldn’t find Michel on one, wounded or worse.
Watching helplessly as our numbers dwindled, more and more falling to the revenants, I chewed on my lower lip. We were losing, and shame filled me at my incapability of doing a thing to help.
“Word from the front,” a fae messenger cried out as they arrived at Luc’s position and drew my attention. Gashes marred the fairy’s face, bearing dried blood and claw marks from his journey to deliver word. His wings beat rapidly as he worked to hover just above the ground. Turning from the maps laid before him, Luc grabbed the parchment from the fae.
The prince examined the paper carefully and I watched as his eyes read, and then reread, the words given to him. Full of anger, he crumpled the paper and threw it to the ground. His men seemed to know what that meant. I did not have that luxury.
“What is it?” I asked, joining at his side, looking for indication of what news he’d received.
“The covens. It appears that the protective magicks they’d placed on the third and fourth battalions has failed and the revenants have over taken their position. The casualties are high,” he told me angrily, his eyes firmly on the battle plans but without focus on them.
“What does that mean, Luc?” My heart was in my throat as I asked the question, thinking of Autumn or Michel lying on the ground in crumpled, lifeless heaps.
“Worry not,” Luc bit out harshly, reading my thoughts. “Autumn fled with the covens to safety and Michel drew back with his forces. He rides toward us now.”
“Sir,” a bloodied soldier rushed to Luc, his left arm hanging in a filthy, blood-stained sling at his chest. “The revenants! They’re cresting the western hill! All of the witches have withdrawn and the protections are lifted!”
“Damn it!” Luc yelled out, frustrated. With eyes honed for battle, he took an inventory of his troops, even as I looked past him to the hill behind. It was difficult to discern exactly what I was seeing coming toward us with the sun shining behind the forces. I relaxed a bit, the vast numbers of soldiers heading in our direction leading me to believe that help was on the way. I thought of Michel among them.
Soon you’ll be here and we can regroup.
Luc handed me the small, terrestrial scope I’d used earlier and spoke, his voice hard and cold as stone, “Look again.”
I put it to my eye, peering at the troops that made their way down the embankment to us.
“That’s … not us,” I stuttered, my voice shaking with fear as the telescope slipped from my hand. My heartbeat sped up and my mouth went dry.
Hundreds of revenants rushed at us from over the hill, eer
ily silent in their approach, their glowing eyes focused on our position.
“A rough estimate,” Luc continued as I watched the horde gliding closer. “We are outmatched, four to one.”
I turned back to the vampire, searching his face for some sign of hope and finding not a hint of what he was thinking. I pleaded, “What are we going to do?”
Luc looked at me, at first tender, then his face crept into a wicked smile. I saw his fingers flex over the hilt of his swords.
“Now, my dear Maggie, we fight. Or we die.”
Without taking a breath, I looked over my shoulder at the growing rumblings from behind us.
“Our men!” someone called out from a distance.
I saw a score of our army riding to us, the king’s banner still flying, but now held by a fairy girl who looked even smaller than Seatha. For just a moment, I wondered what had happened to the knight I’d seen prior to when the fighting began that had carried the flag into the battle, then came to the grim realization that he was most likely dead. Luc strode to meet the first of the riders.
“Sir.” One guard bowed as he dismounted, fatigue and battle plague apparent as he struggled to regain composure.
“Report!” Luc commanded, not waiting for the dismounted soldier to gather himself.
“Sir, the witches have transported to the Elm Forest. The magicks they’d used fell when the second surge of revenant forces overtook them from the rear of their lines. Our cavalry has suffered grave losses; at least half of their troops lay dead or dying on the field.”
“Michel?” I interrupted, pushing past Luc to face the soldier.
“Prince Michel fell from his mount. When last I saw him, he was calling for retreat.”
My heart was in my throat. He’d been alive the last time this soldier had seen him. Was he still alive now?
“And my father?” Luc asked, trying to mask the concern in his voice.
“The king was struck down by a revenant arrow,” the soldier reported. “Our healers were with him, and they were pulling back. The injury was serious, but the healers felt he would be saved.”
Luc, an obvious rush of momentary relief taking his features, continued, “Where did they take him?”
“They brought about their wagons and the king was transported back to The Realm’s keep in Celine, a contingency of elite guard went to escort them.”
“Good.” Luc nodded with approval, looking to the revenants who’d slowed in their approach.
“They’re stopping?” I observed aloud, looking at the same sight Luc was witnessing.
“No,” Luc corrected, reading the revenant army’s movements and assessing them like a well-seasoned military commander. “They have merely slowed their advance.”
“Slowed? Why?”
“Because they know they have us outnumbered. There’s no need to run on your prey when they lay dead already.”
My nerves were electric and the bustle of the troops around us was drowned out by my own panic.
“Maggie!” I heard the distant call of Michel’s voice from behind us.
I wanted to run to him, to throw my arms around him and draw Michel close. I wanted to tell him how very much I loved him; to share my dreams of the future while we sat under a star-filled sky in each other’s arms. All things I so desperately wished for, I now was positive wouldn’t ever happen.
A cold epiphany washed over my soul as I knew, with certainty, what I had to do.
“Luc,” I spoke softly, putting my hand on his arm as I kept my eyes on the approaching horde before I spared a glance in his direction. He looked to my hand and then met my gaze. His eyes softened, and the slitted pupils the vampire displayed when he was angry disappeared.
And when Luc realized what I was about to do, he methodically shook his head, using unspoken words in attempt to dissuade me.
Get Michel out of here, I thought, looking to the monsters. Pull the troops back to Celine and get the hell out of here.
“Maggie,” Luc begged in a whispered hush even as his brother’s voice continued to call out for me. He grabbed my shoulders in his icy hands, forcing me to look at him. “Don’t.”
Now! I thought. Shrugging out of his grip and fighting my instincts to run from the battle, I began walking toward the encroaching revenants.
I continued to move my feet, the steps labored, and tried to ignore Michel’s calls, willing myself to put his pleas to a stop in my mind. I was vaguely aware of the troops being ordered by Luc to stand their ground without advance as I continued to walk toward the enemy.
Arrows flew; the whizzing noises of the flying pointed sticks above my head. I didn’t need to look up to know that they weren’t aimed at me. I kept my eyes forward, staring at the monsters. Even as I heard Michel’s voice like a distant memory, calling for me to stop and come back, I marched closer to the creatures against us.
This is why I’m here, I thought, hoping Michel was listening in. Run, Michel. Save them.
I came to a stop a dozen feet from the revenant front line. They stopped in unison, their degenerating bodies hidden under the tattered robes they wore, all of them stained with the blood of those they’d killed. I unsheathed my sword and held it between my hands, taking a moment to look at my reflection in the blade. The girl I used to be was gone.
One revenant stepped forward as I heard the forces of The Realm inching slowly closer to where I stood.
I said leave, Luc! I roared in my head, hoping the horror I felt didn’t reflect in my thoughts.
I strengthened my grip on the sword’s hilt and lunged at the revenant in front of me. To my surprise, it didn’t try to fight back. It stood motionless while I cut through it, severing its head from its body, and then plunged my blade through its eyes.
The surrounding monsters made no attempt to charge. I heard Luc from behind ordering his troops to hold even as Michel argued the command.
“Fight me!” I yelled at the revenants, my gaze sweeping over them. “Draw your weapons and fight, or be cut down one by one if that’s what it takes!”
Still, they didn’t move.
I stood fast, my knees bent like that book had instructed me, my sword at the ready and shifting my weight from foot to foot. The field was silent, except for the occasional sound of metal behind me where The Realm’s troops watched, silently awaiting their orders.
The creatures soundlessly parted, clearing a path like the army had done for Luc earlier when he’d delivered my mother’s sword. One of the revenants glided forward, its hands tucked in the sleeves of its robe, only a hint of bone showing at its wrists.
“Margaret Henning,” it spoke, a deep and echoing icy voice that would have frozen Hell itself, and I sickened at hearing it say my name.
“That’s me,” I taunted, surprising myself with the tone I’d elected to take.
“We can end this all now.”
“You bet we can,” I shot back, my words coming out with far more levity than I felt. “I can cut you down like I did your buddy. Or, if you have any sense of self-preservation in that skull of yours, you can take your friends and head on home. The playground is closed.”
The revenant raised its left hand, and another lane was formed, allowing two more of the creature’s army forward. In one hand, they held what looked like a sickle, its curved blade pressing under the chin of a fairy I didn’t recognize. The second one, holding the same instrument of death, to the neck of a fae I did.
“Seatha,” I whispered as all air escaped me. She shook her head back and forth slowly, her fragile wings crumpled against the beast that held her tightly against him.
The leader spoke, attempting to sound tenderhearted even with the sinister voice he possessed, “Margaret Henning, you love your friends and family deeply. How would you live with yourself if you had to stand by and watch the death of those you could have protected, all because of your arrogance and unwillingness to be reasonable?”
“Bullshit,” I bit back.
The leader gestu
red and the beast holding the fae I didn’t know moved quickly, severing the fae’s head with such force that it flew toward me, landing at my feet. The body in its arms fell lifeless to the muddy ground with a sickening thump.
“I assure you,” the revenant commander spoke grimly, “this is no game. You can stop all of this death now. Throw down your sword and we will free your friend. The Army of The Realm can leave the field unscathed and return to their homes and families. This is the will of Ossa.”
“I could burn you all to ash,” I threatened with a snarl.
“You could,” he teased, a pointy toothed smile crossing his skull. My eyes shifted to the revenant holding Seatha, observing its grasp change subtly, moving the sickle into position. “But not before your fairy’s head joins the others. And I do not believe you have enough control over your fire yet to destroy us all and avoid further losses to your friends.”
He was calling my bluff. Worse yet, he was right.
“Maggie,” he offered sadly, almost disappointed that his admission was valid, “you will drop your sword.”
I looked to Seatha, who still shook her head in refusal. Carefully, I raised my arms to my sides like I’d done when I was a child, pretending to be an airplane, my sword gleaming in my right palm.
“No, Maggie,” she whimpered, her eyes shining.
“There’s always a choice,” I reminded her, remembering a conversation we’d had in her room when she was hurt delivering the message from the king. It seemed like years, not days ago, since that talk. “Always.”
My grip loosened, and the sword fell from my hand to the ground.
“Good, Maggie,” the revenant sneered, pleased by my action. “Now, you will walk to us.”
“My friends and the army?” I asked the monster.
“As I said, they may leave here unharmed, but I do fear we will only meet them again.”
“Maggie!” Michel’s yell called from the crowd at my back. Gathering more courage, I willed myself to turn and face him. He was being held at bay by Luc and trying desperately to break free.
I directed my thoughts to him, not caring if every other vampire could hear me.