Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Novels from Top Fantasy and Science Fiction Authors

by Gwynn White

  “You don’t think I would protect her?”

  Dain shifted, crunching snow under his boots. “You haven’t known her as long as I have. We’ve fought side by side for decades. We can anticipate each other’s thoughts. If it goes south, I want to be at her side.”

  She glowered at Dain, hating that he and Dominik discussed her like she wasn’t here. “It’s not going to go south.”

  “Neither was your adventure in the tavern.” Even whispered, Dain’s voice was hard. “Agree, Caeda, or I’m walking.”

  He’d do it, too. Loyal, caring bastard that he was.

  She sighed. “Okay. Deal. If it goes badly, Dain and I work together. You and Elion have each other’s backs.”

  Dominik planted a kiss on her cheek. “Be careful. I want you back in one piece.”

  She leaned into him like a cat being stroked. “Got it.”

  All humor and cheeky grins left him. Purebred warrior, he stood. “Let’s do it.”

  As one, they pulled their hoods up and hid their faces. Silently, they tiptoed back to the courtyard.

  As she was the distraction, she approached first.

  Soul-Forged sighed happily to see the Bone in the fountain.

  Sadly, none of the Nyhans had shifted, not even to shield themselves against the harsh, frozen wind.

  She checked her cloak to ensure she was entirely covered, then stepped out from behind the hedge into one of the tracks the Nyhans had worn in the snow. In direct line of sight of the soldiers, she stopped.

  Carefully, she stooped down and scooped up a handful of snow. Once she had compacted it, she cracked open her cloak and chucked it at the closest Nyhan head.

  It bounced off with a pop.

  He swore and swung around, drawing his sword. His brow creased when he saw no one.

  “What is it, Saho?” one of his companions rumbled. He wrapped his gloved hand around the hilt of his sword.

  He and Saho searched the empty air where she stood. Her heart thundered so loud she was sure they’d hear it.

  “I don’t know,” Saho said, not letting his blade drop.

  The other Nyhan soldiers also turned to look.

  One last shaky breath, and she dropped her cloak onto the snow. Tall, clad in fighting leathers, she faced them with Soul-Forged glowing blue and crimson at her side. “Sorry to interrupt. But I believe you have something of mine.”

  “It’s the Reaper!” Saho pulled a second sword from his back. “We knew you’d come.”

  Light from the Bone speared into the air. The soldiers guarding it closed rank, blocking her view, but also creating an opening on the other side of the fountain for Dominik and the others to sneak through.

  “As you can see,” Saho said, “you are badly outnumbered.”

  Did he really think she’d come alone? Or was he trying to engage her so she didn’t notice his comrades inching closer, boxing her in?

  “I suggest you step away from my Bone before I spill your guts on your boots.”

  Saho laughed. “Now, now. It doesn’t need to be like that.”

  She tsked and drew Soul-Forged.

  His light flared, reflecting in their widening eyes. It glanced off their blades, sending shards of light shimmering over the snow-covered hedges.

  She pulled her shoulders back and let his light curl around her. “Come and get me. I doubt your master would like it very much if you let the Soul-Reaper slip from between your fingers again.”

  The Nyhan inched closer instead of storming her. Soul-Forged’s glow around her had to be menacing.

  She followed their tracks, counting down the seconds before they got too close and she had to run.

  They would follow her—they had to.

  If they didn’t…

  She couldn’t think of that. She couldn’t let doubt get anywhere near her. Not now.

  Three.

  Their boots crunched on the snow, closer and closer.

  Two.

  Saho’s hands twitched on his weapons. His boot snapped a twig buried in the snow.

  One.

  She jumped back and bolted around the corner. Guide me, Soul-Forged, she panted inwardly. Don’t let me make a wrong turn.

  “Get her!” Saho yelled.

  But none of them left the Bone to follow her.

  She had to be running into a trap.

  Glittering silver shimmered over the ground, turning the wet snow into a frozen slide. The ice was so clear that she could see herself reflected perfectly in its gleam.

  Magic trailing from his fingers, a single Nyhan stood in the narrow walkway between the hedges. A Frost-Forger.

  Her feet slid out from under her, and she sprawled on her backside, sliding along the ice toward him.

  She held Soul-Forged out with the tip pointed at him. His light pulsed and hissed like wildfire. The ice melted into steam, and her unglamorous slide ground to a halt on the exposed cobblestones.

  Still ten feet away from her, the Nyhan shot two ice arrows at her. She ducked, and they sailed harmlessly past her ears.

  He wasn’t so lucky.

  Soul-Forged’s light cleaved him almost in half. He slumped into the bloodied water.

  Soul-Forged preened. “Thank you, Nasty Reaper. The Bright Reaper never let Soul-Forged fight like this, and I do so love crushing and squishing Fae.”

  She rattled a laugh as she clambered to her feet. “You may get to squish a few more before this is over.”

  Soul-Forged giggled childishly.

  But all humor had washed from her. None of the soldiers in the courtyard had followed. That left fourteen Nyhans for Dain, Elion, and Dominik to deal with.

  She sprinted back the way she’d come.

  Clashing steel reached her, along with the coppery scent of blood. She rounded the corner and gasped.

  His cloak gone, Dain was pinned to the ground by ice magic. He struggled, but the ice covering him didn’t give. Seemingly unharmed, the Frost-Forger lay dead at his side. Snow dusted his body. Dominik must have killed him when he’d plundered the magic.

  Saho was dead, too, his body also untouched by violence. He must have been the Image-Meddler Dominik had sensed.

  Like the Fae of death, Dominik, also uncloaked, stood at the edge of the courtyard with his hand raised. Stolen magic poured from his fingers. It whipped up the now slushy snow, transforming it into a shimmer of blades. Hacking and slashing, they whizzed at the Nyhans.

  Some fell where they stood. Others scattered in a haze of blood.

  That left the Bone unguarded.

  Sword in hand, Elion leapt across the courtyard toward it.

  “Caeda, help Dain, then we can get out of here,” Dominik yelled. From his pallor, he must have poured more energy into his blades than he should have.

  So much for not performing one-shot wonders.

  She fell down beside Dain. “Soul-Forged—”

  “Done!” He whistled as his light sliced into the ice trapping Dain. Cracks splintered the glassy surface. Dain rammed his knee into it, and it shattered.

  Soul-Forged sent up a victory blast of sparks—just as at least ten more Nyhans burst into the courtyard.

  “Me! Me! Let me take them.”

  Not sure whether to rejoice in Soul-Forged, or to despair at their shifting odds, she snapped, “You don’t need to ask.”

  Blue light exploded from the Sword. It parted the gently falling snowflakes to strike two of the Nyhans in the chest.

  More blood stained the already scarlet slush.

  But more Nyhans rushed in with swords waving. She prayed some would be magical so Dominik could recharge.

  None of them dropped dead at his feet. So, no magical among them. Whoever had sent them had planned for Dominik.

  Swords in hand, Dominik and Dain rushed to meet them. She and Soul-Forged joined the fray.

  Just how many more enemy soldiers were there in this maze? Should she throw all chance of destroying the Bone away and send up a flare for help?

 
; “The souls, Nasty Reaper, in my Sword. I know you don’t want to, but feed our Bone. When it’s charged, it will destroy all these enemies.”

  She recoiled. “I can’t do that. Please, we have to keep fighting.” To prove it, she crashed Soul-Forged down onto an enemy’s blade.

  Soul-Forged harrumphed, but sent more light into the battle.

  It wasn’t enough.

  She, Dain, and Dominik—clearly drained of magic—were cumbered on every side.

  “Oh, Nasty Reaper, I’m tapping into the souls,” Soul-Forged sang. “Soon their power will be gone and my light finished.”

  She gritted her teeth. Could she really be so selfish not to employ every advantage they had? The Bone was about to be destroyed, and hopefully all the souls would be released. Why not charge it one last time?

  She broke away from the fight.

  Through the snow flurry, she spotted Elion. He crouched on the far side of the courtyard with his body protecting the Bone.

  She skidded across the bloody slush to join him.

  He looked at her with desperate, fear-filled eyes. “There are too many of them. We’ll never make it out alive.”

  Blood splattered down on them.

  Elion screamed. “Dom!”

  She turned to look.

  A sword had caught his bicep. It didn’t stop him fighting, but his movements were slower. Labored from magic depletion.

  Next to him, concentration twisted Dain’s blood-smattered face. As yet uninjured, he hacked and chopped at the Nyhans.

  Yet more enemy soldiers sauntered into the courtyard like black shadows in a blizzard. Instead of weapons, they carried iron chains.

  For her, no doubt.

  Elion grabbed her hand. “You have to wield the Bone.” Tears streaked down his cheeks. “They’re going to kill my brother, Caeda. And capture you. You have to!”

  A pain-filled shout. More blood stained the air. This time Dain’s musky scent clung to it.

  They would all die here. Dain, Elion, and Dominik. She’d be captured—and Yatres would be crushed. The Bone would never be destroyed.

  Elion and Soul-Forged were right. Wielding the Bone was the only way.

  “Move,” she commanded Elion.

  He shifted his body so the groove on the Bone was exposed.

  Soul-Forged whooped.

  Hand rock steady now that the decision had been made, she slid Soul-Forged’s tip into the groove.

  Light exploded into the gray air.

  The Bone clamped down hard on the steel and pulsed.

  A cosmos of color and stars and dreams swirled, filling her eyes, and her head, and her body, until it was all she could see, all she could feel, all she could taste.

  Dreadful, world-ending power.

  Cold blasted into her.

  It threw her and Soul-Forged back into the slush.

  The spectacle of light and color snapped into the darkness.

  “Nasty Reaper! Evil Fae! He’s here! And he has our Bone!”

  22

  Caeda gaped.

  Elion stood in the blood-stained snow holding the Bone. It glowed powerful and bright in his hands, and a victorious smile lit his face.

  “Sneaky Fae is Evil Fae! And he’s right here.”

  The battle in the courtyard stopped. Just like that, the encircling Nyhans dropped their weapons to their sides. Yet, they watched. And waited as the snow fell gently down.

  Not that it mattered now. On her backside in the slush with Soul-Forged lying between her knees, all she could do was stare. On the other side of the courtyard, swords in hand, Dominik and Dain froze.

  Elion’s tears had gone. “For someone so used to guarding and watching, you sure are blind, Soul-Reaper. I was right in front of you, and you didn’t see me. All you saw was my perfect brother.” Elion cast a look of contempt at Dominik. “Much like everyone else.” He held up the Bone. “Well, look at me now.”

  Dominik stumbled forward, his powerful body hazy in the drifting snow. “No. It’s not possible.”

  The cut on his bicep had bled down his arm, staining his already blood-spattered hand. But it was his ashen face that made her breath hitch. Magic depletion and shock. She should never have brought him here.

  Dain bled from a cut in his thigh.

  Elion arched an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s very possible, Dominik. And just like everyone else, you didn’t see me, either. You didn’t see my power growing. All you saw was a youngling who couldn’t control his magic.”

  Dominik’s eyes glittered in his blood-and-gore-streaked face. “I was trying to help you!”

  “You were trying to stifle me! To show everyone how much better you are than me. To show them that you could win in battle, but not me. That you could marry Taliesin and become the king of Yatres instead of me, your worthless little brother.”

  Dominik flinched as if he’d been struck. “It was never that.”

  “What does it matter?” Elion jerked the Bone. Light and power skittered across the courtyard. “I own this. That means I own the world.”

  Megalomaniac.

  Her eyes narrowed. There had to be a way of disarming Elion. Soul-Forged, can you take him?

  “No, no, Nasty Reaper. Not with our Bone charged and hungry for battle.” Soul-Forged sounded so bleak. She squeezed his pommel until her fingers numbed.

  “And as for destroying the Bone!” Elion mocked. “Soul-Reaper, you bleeding heart… really?”

  Her blood roared. “You little piece of—”

  “How did you do it?” Dominik choked out. “Why did you do it? Ayda was our friend!” He lifted his sword. “And Father? What of him?”

  Elion waved dismissively. “Father? You really think he could dream this up? He was just a tool. A pawn. Just like that sap, Izanna. Her arrival at the Round Palace was nothing short of perfection. Planned, of course.”

  Sundamar and Izanna hadn’t been involved?

  Ice flushed through her. Izanna had been tortured on her word. How would she ever make restitution?

  “What of my Bright Reaper, Evil Fae?” Soul-Forged’s fury pulled her away from her guilt.

  “And as for Ayda? Collateral damage. A fantastic spectacle for frightening the idiot nobles.” He sneered at her. “Pity the confounded Sword had to go and pick you. I was hoping for a more compliant Soul-Reaper.”

  Dain took a step closer. The Nyhans tracked his movement. “And Ryo and Lane?” he demanded, ignoring the weapons angled at him.

  “Who?” Elion asked, looking supremely disinterested.

  “The guards you killed at the iron door,” she snarled. “And you’re damned right I’m not compliant. You may hold the Bone, but this isn’t over.”

  “Oh. Them.” Another dismissive hand wave as if Ryo, Lane and her didn’t matter. “Simple. Spelled arrows.” He grinned at Dominik. “All of my own making.”

  Dain growled and surged toward Elion with his sword at the ready.

  Elion held out the Bone. “Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.”

  Dain stopped, but his eyes burned. Elion was responsible for the deaths of four of their friends. And he would kill them all before Garrik’s troops arrived. The only way the guard would come was if she fired the flare in her backpack. She could hardly see Elion letting her do that. And even then, it would take time they didn’t have before the troops could arrive.

  “The wards?” Dominik’s voice cracked.

  Elion’s blue eyes danced with laughter. He lifted his own very ordinary sword. Magic flowed through the fingers he splayed around the hilt. A plume of faint blue light shone from the blade.

  “Imposter! Tyrant!” Soul-Forged screeched.

  Elion admired his work. “It’s not sentient. I’ll admit that magic is still beyond my reach, so it could never function like the true Sword. But it was enough to trick the wards.” He lowered his sword, and the weak light disappeared. “You were all so wrapped up in your supposed victory that you didn’t even suspect that I was working with the Nyhans long
before the battle ended. And Taliesin played her part so well in stealing Ayda’s key.”

  Her eyes bulged. Taliesin, too? How deep did this rot run?

  Elion laughed. “The Nyhans think they’re getting the Bone, The Soul-Reaper and the Sword.” He kicked slush at Dominik. “You wonder why Taliesin didn’t want to marry you? Apart from the fact that she loves me? We saw the way you looked at her.” He jerked his thumb at Caeda. “Long before she became the Soul-Reaper, Taliesin and I agreed to execute your secret infatuation when we took the throne. But obviously”—he clicked his tongue and shrugged—“now we need her alive.”

  Dominik plunged his sword into the ground and leaned against the hilt. Eyes downcast, he seemed crushed as he fiddled with the buckle on his baldric.

  She wasn’t buying it. Not from the Fae she’d fallen in love with.

  Elion brimmed with magic. Dominik may have been depleted, but the arrogant, swaggering mage she knew would still do his damnedest to filch some magic from his brother. Who knew what he could make with that buckle.

  “Stall Evil Fae, Nasty Reaper. Keep him reveling in his victory. Keep him gloating. Give Sad Fae time to act.”

  She bared her teeth and snarled. “You betrayed your kingdom. You betrayed your Fae. And you will pay for it.”

  Elion rolled his eyes. “What are you going to do, Soul-Reaper?” He waggled the Bone. “I’m more powerful now than you will ever be. Any of you.” His gaze shot back to Dominik. “You even allowed me to plunder your magic. What an idiot.” He cocked his head and sighed happily. “Now all that’s left to do”—he tilted the Bone at Dominik—“is to kill you.”

  Red light plumed. It angled straight for Dominik’s head.

  A blade shot out of Dominik’s hand. It flew straight for Elion’s heart.

  He ducked—and the blade thudded hilt-deep into his shoulder.

  The light from the Bone veered, now on a trajectory for Dominik’s stomach.

  “No!” She swung Soul-Forged into the angry red stream. They collided with a bang that sent her flying backward into a hedge.

  Snow piled on her as thorns tore at her clothes and ripped into her skin. The red light scattered around the maze. Driven by the blue, it shot up, only to explode high above them among the falling snow.