After what seemed like hours of their slow winding dance, they reached the end of the canyon. A large clearing stretched out before them, its walls curved and peppered with holes. The ground was littered with pale white stones. They stood out against the deep red sand, setting Astrid on edge. They crept closer to the middle of the clearing. Suddenly, Astrid realized why the white stones had seemed familiar. They were standing on bones, piles of white gleaming bones.
Ethen stumbled, choking on his words. “Are you seeing—”
“—They’re bones!” Astrid grabbed his wrist, ready to run, when a soft clacking and hissing froze her in place.
Only one monster made sounds like that. She had heard the warnings of the Great Sage to the young children by the fire. She thought they were nothing more than stories. After all, no one had seen a Slasher in years. Yet here was one dangling above their heads, venom dripping from its pinchers as its hundreds of legs wiggled in the air.
Astrid ducked her head as the Slasher lunged forward, digging her knife into its soft underbelly. Sickly green spewed from its wound, sizzling in the dust. The Slasher hissed and reared up to face its prey. It was nearly a head taller than Astrid.
Ethen loosed an arrow into the Slasher’s jaw, turning its pained squeal into a gurgle as its acidic blood fizzed from its throat. He let fly two more sturdy arrows, sending the beast toppling over. It rolled into a quivering ball, crooning in defeat.
“Let’s go!” Astrid barely spoke before a choir of hissing and clacking slid in all around them. Slasher’s crawled from their holes, their legs a flurry of movement as they rattled their thick black shells.
“This is suicide!” Ethen notched another arrow, unsure of which creature to hit first. “You better be thinking of a way to get us out of this!”
“Quiet, I’m thinking!” Ethen rolled his eyes at her response, unleashing arrow after arrow. Most bounced off the Slasher’s armor without even a nick. A couple arrows hit soft flesh but not enough to make a difference.
Astrid stepped back and stumbled on the writhing wounded Slasher. Suddenly, an idea sprang to mind. “Ethen!” She wedged her knifes under a large scale and pried it lose. The pale flesh underneath bulged with puffy black veins. “GET BACK!”
Ethen jumped behind her as she raked her blades across the Slasher’s exposed flesh. The veins burst open, spraying the approaching Slashers with a frenzy of green acid. Shrieks ripped through the air as the acid seeped into the cracks of their armor and devoured the flesh inside.
Suddenly, a deep rumble shook the bone-littered ground beneath their feet. A low hiss flooded the air from behind them. Astrid could see the giant Slasher’s shadow creep over their heads. She felt her blood run chill through her body. They had disturbed a Brood Mother.
Without thinking, she grabbed Ethen by the arm and threw him out of the Brood Mother’s way. She felt the pinchers lash around her waist and squeeze. Ribs popped and snapped as the air was forced from her lungs. The Brood Mother shook her limp body about and then tossed her aside.
Ethen ran to her side, his hands quaking as he dug into his near empty quiver.
“Run Ethen, run…” her voice wheezed from her gaping mouth.
Ethen reached for his last arrow and let it fly. It skidded off the towering Brood Mother like a fly. He let out a cry, falling to his knees. More hisses fluttered from all directions.
So this is what it’s like to die, thought Astrid as her vision dimmed.
Before her sight darkened, the hisses suddenly turned to shrieks. Bright red flames crept up around them. The warmth brought a smile to her quivering lips.
Then she saw him.
His skin burned fiery bronze. A crown of red and gold feathers flared out from his brow, making him look fierce as a hawk. The tips of his wings brushed against the flames as he stretched them wide.
Astrid could not turn away her eyes. He had the beauty and danger of a phoenix, however he was something entirely new. He wore nothing but a pair of tattered britches that were speckled with burns and haphazard patches. The razor talons on his feet dug into the sand as he walked toward her. He kneeled down and locked onto her fading gaze.
His eyes were red with ice blue piercing from their center. They burned with sadness.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she could not hear his words.
Astrid fell into the darkness, his face lingering in her dying mind.
Chapter Four
Luthen looked out over the approaching desert. He sneered, disgusted by the ugly landscape. Soon, he thought, I will be rid of this miserable island. Then it’s on to bigger and better things.
He hated Lythia, with its landscape overrun with humans, dwarves, and other riffraff. It was certainly nothing worth conquering.
But there were others worthy of his rule. Other people and other worlds. Other times… he had seen them. And Wilhelmina had the power to bring them to him.
Though Luthen had only been dead for a small amount of time, or at least it seemed small in Death’s realm, he had learned much. Seducing Wilhelmina had been the easy part. She was lonely and angry at Death, feeling she had been cheated into his service. It was simple to convince her that she should be ruling in Death’s place. She even agreed to allow Luthen to rule the worlds of the living. Together, we will unstoppable, he had said. Wilhelmina was held captive by his every word.
Luthen smiled, reveling in his wicked thoughts. What Wilhelmina did not know was that he planned to kill her as soon as her role was complete.
***
Astrid stirred from a deep, restless sleep. She felt the warmth of a nearby fire on her face. Her hands struggled against the weight of a heavy fur blanket. She pushed hard against it and raised herself up.
Her vision slowly fell into place. Fuzzy shapes snapped into focus. She was in a cool, dry cave. The small fire burned in its roughly hewn hearth, casting shadows on the red rocked wall.
A shadow stirred from behind the fire. Astrid cowered from the movement, her hand fumbling for a weapon. Strong arms wrapped around her struggling body. She cried out, her voice exploding from her chest in a jumble of words and screams.
“Shh! Silence, little one. No harm will come to you here.” His voice was warm and smooth like the rustle of desert sand.
She sank deeper into his arms, too weak to fight. She could feel the fever creep back over her clammy skin. The fire-lit cave blurred and slipped back into the darkness.
Astrid’s sleep was haunted by unfamiliar faces. They drifted through the inky black, their eyes hollow and their mouths full of sorrowful howls. She found herself falling past them. Her hands reached out to them and only grasped air.
A bleak and rocky horizon reared up beneath her. It grew closer as she plummeted toward its broken maw. Her mouth hung open, caught up in a jagged scream. The force of her body slamming into the rocky ground sent her lunging from her bed of furs.
Dappled sunlight cascaded across her shaking body. She had never felt so fragile.
“I almost thought you’d never wake up.” Ethen greeted her with a wide smile, the worry fading from his gaze. “Luka healed you—it was amazing! But there was nothing much he could do about the fever besides waiting it out. I almost thought—”
“—Ethen! Stop rambling and help me up.” Astrid shot him a quick smile as she reached out for his hand. Ethen jumped to steady her as she pulled herself to her feet. The thick fur cover slid away leaving her shivering in her sweat-soaked under clothes. “Where are my things?”
“Oh!” Ethen scrambled across the cave to heap of clothes in a far corner. Astrid’s legs buckled, sending her swaying. She tilted toward the ground but was caught by a strong grasp. The dappled sunlight was suddenly blotted out. She turned her gaze toward the shadow. Pure yellow morning light danced around the silhouette’s outline. Feathers burned bright red around his face, framing it in soft flames. The blaze continued down from his head to his shoulders. From his shoulders, great wings hung unfurled in a fiery stance.
“Luka! Look, she’s awake,” said Ethen as he hurried over to Astrid, his arms full of ratty desert garb. “Do you need help with these?”
Astrid tore her eyes off Luka and glared at Ethen. “I can dress myself, thank you.” She pulled away from Luka’s grasp and snatched the bundle of clothes from Ethen’s arms. The room swirled around her head as she wiggled into her britches and buckled her jacket.
“Maybe you should sit down,” said Luka, his hand reaching out to steady her.
Astrid shrank away from his touch. “I’m fine. Really,” she said, lowering herself to the rumpled bed of furs. Astrid narrowed her focus to the task of pulling on her boots. The last thing I need is for these two to baby me.
“Ethen, have you told him?” She looked up from her boots, her hands resting on the buckles. Her eyes darted to Luka, his fiery face unreadable.
“I didn’t think it was important—”
“—Of course it is! Why didn’t you tell him?”
Ethen’s face turned sour. “I thought you were dying. It didn’t exactly seem like a good time to bring it up!”
Luka cleared his throat, drawing their attention to him. “Pardon the interruption, but what the hell are you talking about?”
Astrid glared at Ethen as she gathered herself to stand. Though her feet were uneasy, she rooted them firmly against the rocky ground. She puffed herself up, trying her best to appear fierce. “We’re taking you back to Limra,” she said, her voice firm as stone. “Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, it’s up to you.”
Luka flared his wings as he burst into a fit of laughter. “Oh, please, I’d prefer the hard way,” he said, shaking between laughs.
Astrid’s chest sank while her face reddened with rage. She shot Ethen a hard look to silence his own wayward giggles. He looked away quickly, muffling his disobedient mouth in a trembling hand.
“Look, I’m serious. You’re needed in Limra. It’s urgent.” Astrid looked hard into Luka’s eyes, searching for any part of him she could reach.
He stifled his laughter and drew his wings closed. Sunlight poured in from behind him, glinting on his ruby feathers. “There’s nothing left for me there,” he said, his voice strained. “I left that place long ago. I don’t plan on ever returning. It seems as if your journey here has been wasted.”
“No!” Astrid grabbed at his arm as he turned away. His eyes snapped to hers. They were full of hurt and a hint of something darker. “Listen, I’m sorry. I haven’t even thanked you for saving us… for saving me,” she said. His skin was warm and soft in her hand. “I know you’ve been here a long time, hiding from the world. You have a great gift. You don’t need to hide anymore.”
She could feel Luka staring deep into her as he weighed her words. “I will leave, but only for you.” His eyes tore themselves from her gaze and lingered on the dying fire.
Astrid nodded, perplexed by his sudden agreement. “We will leave soon. It’ll take the greater part of the day to ride back.”
“You’re not possibly thinking about riding a glider all the way to Limra, do you?” Luka’s brow furrowed as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You can barely stand, let alone stay upright speeding across the desert.”
“He’s right, you know,” said Ethen as he fastened his jacket shut.
“Well, what do you suggest I do?” Astrid glare traveled from Ethen back to Luka.
Luka shrugged his shoulders and unfurled his wings. “How about this?” He grabbed Astrid and gathered her up into his arms. “I’ll drop Ethen off by the gliders and follow him the rest of the way,” he said, allowing Ethen to grab onto his arm. Luka cast Astrid a sly look as he strode to the mouth of the cave. “You might want to hold on tighter than that.”
Astrid opened her mouth to curse him but the word ripped from her lips. Her stomach jolted to her throat as Luka dove from his cave and out into the cannon. Well, she thought as the world sped by her, I may not be able to give him a piece of my mind, but at least I might vomit all over the bastard.
***
The journey back to Limra only took half the time of traveling by glider. Astrid would have been impressed if the fast-moving world didn’t make her queasy. Ethen, on the other hand, had enjoyed himself quite thoroughly. To help him keep up, Luka had pulled Ethen’s glider along by a rope tied around his waist. However, Astrid was relieved to find that Ethen had taken the time to break down her glider and lash it to his own.
Astrid stumbled to the ground when finally released from Luka’s embrace. He seemed reluctant to let her go so soon. During the journey, she had noticed him catching glimpses at her. Each time she would peer through her wind-battered hair, he would turn his gaze away.
Fryx’s villa was in sight. Astrid heaved a heavy sigh as she smoothed down her unkempt hair. Her dark braids intermingled with her reddened braids, leaving the rest to hang in a defiant clump. With a growl, she scooped her mass of hair up and wound a ragged bit of twine around it.
Astrid barely took her first step toward the villa when the great door unwove its battered branches and slithered open. Fryx burst from the gaping doorway, his sour-faced goblin company in tow.
“Ah! What a delight it is to see you! We must hurry! I’m afraid there’s little time to waste!” Fryx was in a fit of disarray. Astrid could hardly recognize the dwarve from his former composed self. His eyes were red and his beard matted. Even the goblins looked several shades paler than before. Quibell, however, was not among them.
Astrid beckoned Luka to follow. He nodded, keeping his eyes low. “Lead the way, Fryx.”
The crowd poured into the great hall of the villa and dispersed. Fryx led Astrid, Ethen, and Luka to the door. The dwarve tapped his knuckles lightly on its surface. Quibell emerged from the darkened room and motioned for them to enter. Fryx glanced at Astrid. “Only him,” he said. His brow lay heavy on his weary face.
Ethen opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut from Astrid’s quick jab to his ribs. “I understand,” she said, “we will wait out here.” Healing is a delicate task.
Fryx shook his head and glanced at Luka. Luka folded his wings behind his back and ducked through the door. Fryx followed, allowing Quibell to slip out into the hall and ease the door shut. The goblin folded his spindly arms against his barrel chest, a grimace spread across his dusky blue face.
Astrid took Ethen by the arm and led him back to the main hall. There was no use waiting in the presence of bad company.
Once out of ear shot, Astrid spoke in a rushed whisper. “Do you think Luka will actually be able to heal him?”
“Of course he will. He healed you, didn’t he? He stayed by your side the entire time!” Ethen threw himself onto a large, overstuffed lounge and propped his feet up on a shimmering blue stool. Flakes of reddened mud dotted the blue as he settled his boots into the plush cushion.
“Excuse me, but I don’t exactly remember a lot of what happened,” said Astrid, doing little to hide her scowl of disapproval as she kicked Ethen’s feet from the stool. “I say it’s all a load of troll shit.”
“You really don’t believe he did it, do you?” Ethen’s tone was tense. She knew she had struck a nerve. “You’d be dead two whole days now if it wasn’t for him. I’d be reciting prayers for you right now. Maybe even building your pyre if there was anything left of you to burn.”
“You really take everything far too seriously,” she said. Though her demeanor was calm, she was just as tightly strung. She had faced Death and found herself solely unprepared.
“And you need to grow up before you actually do get yourself killed.” Ethen’s words hung heavy overhead. Hearing them hit her hard, but not enough so as to break her façade.
“Save the lecture for another day,” Astrid said through a forced grin. “I have business to attend to.” The still iron grate had lingered on her mind since entering the villa. It was due time to put her mind at ease.
Astrid sauntered over the grate and peered inside. The beast sat a
gainst the stone wall as if he were one with its frosty texture.
“You’re not seriously thinking about going down there?” Ethen sprang to his feet, knocking over the muddied stool.
Astrid ignored him, her mind set on the task at hand. She laced her fingers through the grate and yanked it free. The iron squealed on its hinges, sending shivers down her spine. A silver rope sat coiled on a spindle near the top. Astrid cranked the spindle enough to expose enough of the rope ladder to reach the bottom of the oubliette.
“Wait here,” she said to Ethen without taking her eyes off the Phooka. Though she could feel his heated glare at her back, he remained silent.
Astrid slipped inside and onto the ladder. She took one last look at Ethen. His wild sandy blond hair hung over his stormy green eyes. He was doing his best to contain his anger, much like he had always done, even as a child. It pained her that she was always the cause of his hidden rage.
Astrid ducked her head inside, out of sight. Rung by rung, she descended further into the gaping darkness.
She reached the bottom within moments. She sucked her breath hard in through her clenched teeth as her eyes struggled to adjust to the shadow. Her steady hands slid her hunting knives from their hilts in one fluid motion.
“So you’ve come to slay the beast?”
Though the Phooka spoke, he did not stir. Astrid could see the glint of a chain around his neck. Its presence settled her fluttering heart but not enough to lower her guard.
“It depends,” she said, keeping her voice level. “Is this beast in need of slaying?”
The Phooka croaked a raspy laugh. Astrid’s eyes could now pick out the mottled blindfold beneath his yellowed horns. Black fur, matted and bloodied, covered him from head to hoof. Yellow teeth flashed their jagged edges as he bellowed with dusty laughter.
Shadow Queen Page 4