A roar shook the dawn.
His feet slid, belly flopping him into the snow. He gritted his teeth, keeping his lips firmly pressed together, hoping the others remembered to do the same. The last thing he needed were sick soldiers because they swallowed the rancid snow.
Rock and ice pelted his back and head. Thankfully, his body armor and helmet shielded him for the most part. When the bombardment ended, he lifted his head and checked his men.
A succession of thumbs up signals indicated they were fine.
Jackson returned to his climb, trying to wedge his numb feet between ice-coated rocks, sticks, and trees. When he once again reached the rock formation at the top of the small rise, he pulled the collar of his sweatshirt from beneath his breastplate and used it to cover his mouth. Making sure he breathed down into the sweatshirt to avoid a visible vapor plume, he peeked around the edge of the top boulder.
Men, their ankles chained to thick spikes driven deep into the ice, used pick axes to chip away at one side of the mountain.
Savages patrolled the perimeter of the manmade clearing.
Green light flashed from a cave the enslaved men were enlarging.
Jackson peered back at his men. He frowned and shook his head once to indicate he didn’t understand what was going on. He pointed at Ranger.
Dakota and Vaughn moved aside to give Ranger room to pass.
When Ranger reached the peak, Jackson slid over to allow him the best vantage point.
Ranger peered over the edge of the boulder and frowned. After watching for a while, he turned back to Jackson and pointed toward a small rock formation.
Jackson followed him, sliding a little way down the mountain toward the shelter of the rocks.
Another roar ripped through the silence of the gray morning.
Debris pummeled them, and the four men ducked beneath protruding rocks for cover.
Whatever was going on, they had to figure it out quickly and decide whether to intervene. They’d already lost the cover of darkness and couldn’t afford to wait much longer. If they did, they’d have to wait until dark again. Perhaps they could make it to the peak of the great mountain and back before then.
Jackson leaned out from beneath their improvised shelter and stared up at the largest mountain in the chain, the top of which was cut off by thick gray clouds. There was no way they’d make it up there and back before dark without the dragons. With no trail leading to the summit, it would take them forever to climb to the top.
And Elijah had specifically said to leave the dragons behind.
A rock bounced over the edge and hit the side of his head. His helmet only absorbed part of the blow, and he ducked back and pressed his ice-coated glove against his temple. It didn’t relieve the throbbing. He tried to ignore the pain. The injury would heal soon enough on its own.
When the rubble stopped falling, Jackson leaned close to the other Death Dealers and pitched his voice low. “What do you think?”
Ranger shook his head. “They seem to be prisoners, which means we’re going to have to free them.”
Jackson bit back a sigh. Of course, they were. The only question was whether to do it now or wait until they returned. He nodded and returned to his perch above the valley.
None of the prisoners appeared to be in pain. They all wore heavy coats and boots and didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger.
They’d head to the summit in search of Chayce. They couldn’t afford to take a chance of losing him if he was hiding up there. Once they accomplished their mission, they’d return and free the prisoners.
Who knew? If they eliminated Chayce, the savages might very well take off, leaving the prisoners unprotected. Then they could simply release them without a fight.
He started to back away slowly.
A man emerged from the cave, his long, dark robe and hood cloaking his features.
Jackson froze.
A flash of green from the mouth of the cavern backlit the stooped figure.
He slid backward, careful to move slow enough not to draw attention, keeping his gaze firmly riveted on the man.
He jerked his head up, and the hood fell back, revealing Thaddeus's shriveled features. The sorcerer’s gaze shot straight to Jackson.
Jackson scrambled back, no longer worried about stealth.
Thaddeus was Chayce’s prophet, as well as one of the strongest sorcerer’s in existence. Whether or not he had foreseen Jackson’s arrival, he had no idea, but Thaddeus and Chayce had been inseparable since Chayce had taken over Argonas. So if Thaddeus was there, Chayce was too.
The mountain rumbled beneath Jackson’s feet. They had to get out of there. Now. He whistled once as they slid, staggered, and tumbled away from the peak. A giant chasm exploded open in front of them. Jackson skidded and threw his weight backward to stop himself from flying over the edge and into the crashing waves and ice hundreds of feet below.
Ranger tumbled over.
Lunging onto his stomach, Jackson caught Ranger’s arm. He tried to dig his feet into the snow for leverage.
Ranger clutched Jackson’s wrist with one hand and his sleeve with the other. The wind whipped him wildly, battering him against the jagged rocks.
Jackson slid closer to the quaking edge. He reached behind him, desperate to grab anything to stop them from falling. His icy grip on Ranger slipped. He couldn’t hold on to him. With his upper body hanging over the edge, he snatched the shoulder strap of Ranger’s breastplate.
A heavy weight fell on Jackson’s back.
“Hold on,” Vaughn yelled over the screaming wind.
From the other side, Dakota gripped the sword he’d plunged into the ground and seized Ranger’s wrist.
The three of them lurched backward, pulling Ranger toward them.
Blood poured from a gash on Ranger’s forehead, freezing as it ran down the side of his face. When he got one knee on the edge, he pushed himself over, then rolled onto his back, breathing hard.
At least he was breathing.
As debris rained on them, Jackson knelt at his side, ripped off his glove, and pressed his hand to the head wound. He’d heal it enough for Ranger to make the trip back to Cymmera, but they had to get out of there.
“We have to go.” Dakota slid his sword into its sheath and crouched beside Jackson. “Is he all right?”
“Yeah. Come on.” Jackson stood and held out a hand to Ranger.
Something struck his back, driving him to his knees.
He spun, trying to cover Ranger and gain his feet.
A savage stood at the top of the rock they’d used for cover, a boulder held over his head. Roaring, he hurled the boulder at them.
Vaughn threw himself at Jackson, and the two tumbled toward the crumbling cliff.
Jackson yanked the knife from his boot and slammed it into the ice, halting their forward motion as the boulder rolled past them and over the edge. Breathing hard, cursing the condensation that would give away their position, he pulled himself up and sat.
The ground behind them gave way, plummeted through the thick layer of ice, and shattered it into chunks. He and Vaughn knelt on a small island suspended on a thin post of land high above an angry sea.
Dakota and Ranger had separated and each balanced precariously on their own islands.
With a loud crack, the land beneath Jackson and Vaughn gave way. Jackson leaped toward a more solid stretch of mountain he had no real hope of reaching.
Ophidian flew beneath him.
He crashed onto the dragon’s back, knocking the wind from his lungs. He reached over his head, grabbed one of the spikes protruding from Ophidian’s back, and turned over to search for Vaughn.
Ophidian dove and caught Vaughn seconds before he would have hit the waves hurling slabs of ice into the remaining pedestals.
Dakota and Ranger’s dragons landed just long enough for them to climb on as their island toppled.
The rest of the De
ath Dealer team flew into formation behind Jackson.
When Vaughn’s dragon paralleled Ophidian, Vaughn leaped onto his back.
The quake intensified as the Death Dealers crested the peak and dove toward the valley. Whatever Thaddeus was doing down there, it was time to end it.
The cave entrance stood empty, Thaddeus nowhere to be found.
Accustomed to the weather, the savages ran full speed down the mountain, plowing deep furrows through the snow.
The prisoners were already using their axes to free each other.
The Death Dealers could see to them after they’d gotten Thaddeus, and with any luck at all, found Chayce there with him.
Jackson and his men raced toward the cave entrance.
An explosion shattered the entire side of the mountain, propelling fragments of rocks, trees, and earth toward the prisoners and the Death Dealers.
Chapter 3
“Close the grate behind you,” Mia whispered.
Ryleigh fumbled with her foot until she found the grate and shoved it back into place.
Chayce could have seen them disappear behind the thrones. If he knew about the tunnel, it’d be easy enough to intercept them.
She crawled past the first few curves before she risked a soft whisper. “How did you know about this tunnel?”
They moved quickly through the darkness, the moldy odor tickling her throat. She tried to muffle a cough, the effort emphasizing the pain in her side.
“Elijah. He showed it to me a while ago. When we opened the throne room door and saw what was happening, he told me to go now. I knew immediately what he meant.” Her shaky inhale echoed back to Ryleigh. “I knew what was about to happen.”
“Elijah foresaw this?”
“Yes.” As they rounded a sharp turn, a small square of light appeared. “And so did I.”
Silence descended, heavy in the stillness of the dark tunnel. Claustrophobia threatened to suffocate her as she followed blindly behind Mia.
They reached another grate, and Mia shoved it open and crawled out onto the kitchen floor.
Ryleigh followed, shock forcing her to function on autopilot.
Mia had mentioned knowing things once before, but Ryleigh hadn’t been ready to accept the fact she might actually see the future. She couldn’t deal with that right now.
Jackson was gone. Elijah was dead. Cymmera was under attack. This was not the first time Ryleigh had dealt with a war in Cymmera, but last time she thought Elijah might be a traitor. This time she suffered not only with the grief of his death, but the fact he’d sacrificed his life to save her. She choked on the guilt.
Screams came from the hallway. She swung around and searched for something to use as a weapon.
The kitchen doors cracked open. Lucas poked his head in and looked around, then gestured behind him. He swung the door wide and held it open, his sword held ready.
A Guardsman strode through with a toddler tucked beneath one arm. He wrestled a boy of about seven or eight into the kitchen.
The child screamed wildly for his mother, clawed the Guardsman’s arm, kicked him, and tried to squirm free of his hold.
He only adjusted his grip on the smaller child, held the boy tighter, and dragged him across the kitchen.
If they didn’t take a minute to quiet the boy down, he’d surely draw the attention of the savages. Why didn’t they wait for his mother or stop and comfort him? Ryleigh started toward him.
Lucas’s glare stopped her. He shook his head.
Understanding dawned. She’d hoped the Cymmeran soldiers would be able to confine the attack to the throne room. Apparently, they hadn’t been able to gain control.
Women and children rushed into the kitchen behind two more Guardsmen. Most of the children remained eerily quiet, but each time one of them made a sound, one of the women quickly hushed them.
Blood flowed down the side of one woman’s face.
Another guided her children across the kitchen, cradling her obviously broken arm against her body.
Why would Chayce have ordered an attack against women and children? She had to make sense of all of this, to think. But first she had to find a safe place to shelter the survivors. “How bad, Lucas?”
He let the door fall shut behind the last of the victims and strode toward her. “It’s bad. We’re under attack. An army of beasts has invaded the city and portions of the castle. Right now, we are still clear to evacuate parts of the castle. We have to hurry, though, Your Majesty.”
How many people lived in the city? She couldn’t remember. Was she supposed to sacrifice them all? “All right. Evacuate everyone to the human realm.”
“I’d love to. Unfortunately, I can’t.”
Noah hurried through the door followed by Payton carrying Hannah, and Kiara carrying Sadie.
Oh. Right. Noah had once been human and had died in the human realm. He could no more return there than could Payton. Supposedly. “Okay. Evacuate to the mountains. Let’s just get everyone out before it’s too late. We can figure out where to go later.”
Lucas waved the two guards forward.
They nodded and jogged toward the back door.
When they gave the go ahead, Lucas led everyone toward the door.
“Wait. I have to go to my room.” Mia turned and started back.
Ryleigh grabbed her arm, the flare of pain in her hand a stark reminder of the injury the savage had inflicted. “No way. We have to get out of here.”
Holding a hand up for everyone to stop, Lucas cracked the door and peered out.
“I may know a place we can go, but I need a book from my room.” Mia pulled her arm free.
“All right, let’s go then.”
Mia pinned her with a stare. “I’m going alone, Ryleigh. You have a responsibility to an entire kingdom now.”
“My responsibility to you will never change.”
Lucas pushed the door open wide and whispered for their group to stay low and against the wall as they entered the back courtyard.
The children remained unnaturally quiet, their eyes wide with confusion and fear as they followed Lucas’s instructions. An older girl lifted a younger one into her arms and hugged her tight. Silent tears streamed down the little girl’s face as they ducked low and filed out.
Mia lowered her voice to an urgent whisper. “You are my queen, and I respect you. You are my sister, and I love you. I appreciate that you’ve always protected me and taken care of me. But you babied me to death. Was that really for me? Or was it for you? To fill your need to keep me close, to avoid dealing with the pain and grief of losing those close to you.”
“Look, Mia—”
“I refuse to be your excuse to shirk your responsibility to thousands of Cymmeran citizens now. I am your closest advisor. I am Cymmera's new prophet. Elijah trained me to assume that role.”
She ripped her arm out of her sweatshirt, baring a tattoo that circled her bicep. A thin, intricately woven, tribal design, purple and lavender intertwined lines, similar to the one that had appeared on Ryleigh’s arm during Jackson’s Death Dealer ceremony, only instead of white flowers marking her as a queen, Mia’s tattoo held the deepest royal purple flowers. Perhaps marking her as a prophet? “Now… You have your responsibilities, and I have mine.” She started toward her room.
Shock held Ryleigh silent. Was Mia right? It didn’t matter. She didn’t have time for this right now, and right or wrong, Mia wasn’t roaming the castle alone while they were under attack. She started after her.
Survivors still streamed out the back door, their hushed whispers gaining urgency while they waited their turns to evacuate.
Darius Knight appeared behind Ryleigh and shoved a little boy into her arms. “I’ll go with her. Get everyone out of here.”
She shifted the boy’s weight to her uninjured side.
Darius reached Mia in a few long strides, took her arm, and leaned close to her ear.
“I�
��ll meet you by the dragon caves,” Mia yelled.
Letting Mia go was one of the hardest things Ryleigh had ever done, but she did let her go. No matter how strange Mia had been acting lately, she had to trust her. And she trusted Darius to protect her. They could sort the rest out later. As Mia and Darius disappeared, she wiped the little boy’s tears, held him closer, waited for the remaining survivors to exit the kitchen, and waved the two remaining guards forward. “Let’s go.”
They crossed the courtyard at the back of the castle and slid through the large iron gate undetected.
Black smoke billowed from one of the tower windows.
They descended the back side of the mountain before reaching the next mountain in the chain and starting up. The smaller children struggled to navigate the rough terrain. The adults, many of them injured during skirmishes in the castle, did their best to help, but their pace had begun to slow.
The little boy who’d struggled so wildly had finally settled down. He now trod beside the soldier who’d saved him, head down, shoulders slumped in defeat.
They had to find somewhere safe to rest.
The castle blocked any view of the mountainside below it that held the city of Cymmera, but smoke filled the sky in that direction, so she could only assume the worst.
Ryleigh slid and almost lost her footing, loose rocks tumbling down the mountain behind her. She clutched the little boy closer, biting back a scream as agony tore through her hand. Healing didn’t come automatically to her yet, and she couldn’t focus with everything going on. She’d managed to slow the flow of blood from her side a little, but if the lightheadedness was coming from the blood loss, she was going to have to try harder. She’d see what she could do once they reached the caves.
The boy slipped, and she hugged him tighter.
He whimpered and buried his head against her shoulder.
She didn’t know the child, but he couldn’t be more than two or three, and they had no idea where his parents were. She tried to reassure him he’d be safe, but mostly, he stayed quiet, only letting out an occasional soft cry when she squeezed him too tight.
The boy, he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, tell her his name, clung to her neck, practically choking her.
Battle for Cymmera Page 4