Enemy of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Protector Book 4)

by Linsey Hall

  “That was close,” Ares said.

  “No kidding.” I looked between him and Roarke. “Thanks for saving us from the water.”

  They grinned.

  “Anytime,” Ares said.

  Finally, I was mostly warm enough that I no longer shook uncontrollably. I conjured fresh clothes for each of us, and we tugged them on.

  “We’d better get rowing again,” Ares said.

  “Yeah. Don’t want Draugen to shake off the seaweed and catch up,” Del said.

  I looked at Sven, whose gaze was riveted on the fjord beyond. At least we had our stalwart captain.

  “You don’t have a spare sail, do you?” I asked.

  “I do not.”

  I called upon my magic, conjuring a sail. It took precious moments to attach it to the spar and hoist it up the mast, but we managed. Once the wind had caught, we each took up an oar and fit it into the oarlock, then sat on a chest and began to row. The exertion sent heat to my muscles. It was good, in a tiring way. As we rowed through the dark night, supplementing the sail power, I focused on my dragon sense, praying that we were close to our destination.

  After a while, it tugged hard, toward the shore on our left. I pointed, directing Sven. “That way!”

  “There’s nothing but cliffs that way!” He squinted toward the mountain that edged the fjord. “No place to land.”

  My dragon sense was quite clear. “It’s over there, I’m sure of it!”

  He shrugged and turned the rudder. The boat cut through the water, heading for the cliff. Sven pulled us alongside the towering rock face, and I studied it.

  He was right. It was just a straight shot upward, barely any slope at all. But my dragon sense was insistent. I stowed my oar and moved toward the bow, letting my dragon sense guide.

  “We’re close. I know we are.” I squinted at the stone wall. Moonlight gleamed on the rock. A series of strange shadows caught my eye. My heart leapt and I pointed. “There! Stairs carved right into the rock.”

  Del groaned. “Really? That cliff is thousands of feet tall.”

  I tilted my head back and looked up. She was right. It was almost inconceivably tall and so steep that it was nearly vertical. The stairs cut into the side, and there was no handrail. My friends rowed slowly as Sven directed the boat toward the stairs.

  “Stop!” Sven called.

  They stopped rowing, cutting their oars into the water to stop our forward progress. We slowly toward the stairs. Ares jumped up and grabbed onto a stone ledge, halting the boat’s progress.

  “Roarke.” I turned to him. “Will you fly up and see if they go all the way to the top?”

  He saluted and stowed his oar, then took to the sky, broad wings carrying him upward.

  “I could transport us to the top,” Ares said.

  Sven shook his head. “This is the territory of the elves. If you transport and appear out of nowhere, they will consider it a threat, and you will meet the Dökkálfar, the dark elves. If you take the stairs and make your presence known, you are more likely to meet the Ljósálfar, the light elves.”

  “Is there a difference?” I asked.

  Sven grinned. “You want to meet the light elves.”

  “Then we’ll take the stairs,” Ares said.

  Roarke returned a moment later, landing softly on the deck. “They do extend all the way up, cut right into the cliffside. They aren’t more than two feet wide though. And no railing of any kind, obviously.”

  My stomach dropped to my feet. I swallowed hard. “This is going to suck.”

  “Sure is.” Del’s face was white as she stared up.

  “I wish you Godspeed.” Sven grinned. “And thank you for awakening me.”

  “Will you return to your burial place?” I asked.

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “Well, don’t lose your boat in that battle, then.”

  “We’ll see.” He gazed back over his shoulder, eyes fond.

  “Thanks for the ride, Sven.” I saluted, then scrambled onto the stairs. Their narrowness made my stomach plunge, and I was only two feet off the water. “We’re in for it now.”

  Del smiled. “I freaking hate stairs like this.”

  I laughed weakly. The thrill and challenge of it clearly delighted her. Del had always been a danger junkie—jump first, then look.

  I turned and began to climb. My friends followed in a single-file line. I was only about twenty feet up when Sven called from down below.

  “Be wary, friends! The children of Jörmungand live here.”

  “What?” I yelled down.

  But he was already pulling away, handling his boat so expertly that it cut smoothly through the water. He didn’t respond, either because he couldn’t hear me or because he didn’t want to.

  “What is Jörmungand?” Roarke asked.

  “The world serpent,” Del said. “In Norse mythology, he lives beneath the ocean, so big that he encircles the earth, biting his own tail.”

  “And his kids live here?” I looked around, searching for snakes. Would they be on the stairs? I shuddered.

  “I have no idea what he means,” Del said. “I’ve never read about them.”

  Del had read about most things, so that wasn’t reassuring. While I might be a big reader during my downtime at the shop, Del put me to shame.

  “Keep a wary eye out,” Ares said.

  I did, forcing myself to constantly search the stairs and sea below as we climbed. Sven’s boat was but a speck beneath us, sailing off up the fjord.

  “I don’t think I can look down any longer,” Del said.

  “Same.” The sight was starting to make me queasy. We were already over two hundred feet up, and there were many hundreds more to go. That was a lot of time for the serpents to find us. Could they come from the sea?

  “Check behind you, Ares!” I called back to him. “In case the serpents climb out of the water.”

  “I will.”

  We continued upward. My thighs burned from the climb and the exhaustion of the day, not to mention my mind. That was exhausted from visions of us falling off the side of this cliff.

  The wind cut coldly across my face, chilling my nose until it was numb. I was all but crawling now, clinging to the stone steps and avoiding looking down.

  “One thing is for certain,” Ares called from the back of the line. “We are definitely going the right way.”

  “Why do you say that?” I shouted.

  “Nothing good ever comes easy!”

  I chuckled, my stomach turning as I stole a glance below. We had to be five hundred feet up now. No sign of serpents yet. Maybe Sven had been joking.

  We could get that lucky, right?

  As soon as I had the thought, I knew I was being an idiot.

  Of course we wouldn’t get that lucky. Not permanently, at least.

  We made it another three hundred feet upward, climbing ever more slowly as the exhaustion bit deeper. Victory was near. It would feel like strong, firm ground beneath my feet and no whipping wind or potential plummet to my death.

  I could see light at the end of the tunnel when the first shriek rent the night air. My heart leapt into my throat as I plastered myself to the stone steps and searched the stairs above me, then the sky around.

  “High on your right!” Roarke shouted.

  I looked up, examining the night sky. The Aurora Borealis had appeared, a slight swirl of green against the inky sky. Highlighted against the moon was a winged beast—a serpent.

  “Jörmungand’s children can fly?!” We were screwed.

  Chapter Eight

  “There are more!” Del cried. “Two down below.”

  My gaze followed her words, seeing two of the beasts hurtling from the depths of the fjord. It was hard to tell how big they were without any scale—everything around us was enormous—but they were at least the size of dogs.

  Roarke leapt off the stairs, his wings flaring behind him, and flew straight for the closest winged serpent. But the
re were too many for him to fight alone. I glanced back in time to see Ares draw his shadow sword. Del drew her own blade from the ether.

  Heart thundering, I conjured a bow and arrow. It took every ounce of guts that I had to unplaster myself from the stone stairs and kneel. The cold stone bit into my knee, grounding me, tethering me to the earth. I drew back my bowstring, aiming for the closest serpent. When I released the string, my arrow flew straight and true, plunging into the chest of the serpent. The beast bowled backward, flying head over tail toward the water.

  Nearby, Roarke tore the head off a serpent with his bare hands, blood spraying. I grimaced. That dude could fight.

  I conjured another arrow, firing for a serpent headed for Ares. Before the arrow found its mark, I conjured another, firing at a different beast. There were six in the air. Between Roarke and me, we could take them out before Del and Ares had to use their swords. A battle on the stairs was to be avoided at all costs.

  I conjured and shot, conjured and shot, taking out three more serpents while Roarke destroyed two. I was aiming for the last when an unholy screech filled the night air. My blood turned to ice in my veins.

  That was way more than one serpent.

  “There!” Del cried, pointing behind us.

  I squinted into the dark, catching sight of dozens of serpents flying toward us. They were still a couple hundred meters away, looking no bigger than bats.

  “Run!” I screamed.

  I dropped my bow, which plunged toward the water below, and raced up the stairs, adrenaline driving me. There would be no winning against that many serpents.

  “Come on, Roarke!” Del screamed.

  We scrambled up the stairs, Roarke flying at our side. My heart thundered, and my lungs burned, muscles shaking from exhaustion. We still had twenty meters to go.

  “They’re here!” Ares shouted. “Brace yourselves.”

  I froze dead in my tracks, turning just my head to look. The serpents were only a dozen yards away, so close that I could make out their brilliant green scales and lacy black wings. Emerald eyes stared ravenously at us, and long fangs dripped with green venom.

  Oh, hell.

  Ares and Del drew their swords from the ether. I conjured a shield, passing it off to Del. “Give it to Ares!”

  She handed it down while I conjured another, passing that one to her. By the time she grabbed it, a serpent was upon her, striking with its fangs. She blocked it with the shield. The serpent’s head thudded into the metal. Its wings faltered. Del took advantage of the beast’s distraction, piercing it with her blade. Below, Ares did the same.

  I didn’t want to use Laima’s blade. I didn’t need it for these beasts and was too afraid of dropping it, so I conjured my own sword and shield just before a serpent attacked me. Its sulfurous breath gagged me as I blocked its attack with my shield then struck out with my blade.

  It shrieked and plummeted toward the water.

  That wasn’t so hard!

  But the brief flare of hope was suffused by panic at the wall of serpents approaching us through the air. There were even more than before, and there were just so damned many of them.

  We managed a few steps each before the next wave was upon us. I sliced the neck of one while battering another with my blade, but a third hurtled toward me while my weapons were busy with the other two.

  I kicked, nailing the serpent in the face. It shrieked and fell, but another two replaced him. My sword felt heavy in my exhausted arm as I stabbed toward the serpent. I struck him in the chest, but another sank his fangs into my thigh. Pain screamed through me as I yanked my blade from the other serpent’s chest and plunged it into the beast that was chewing on my thigh. The monster released its grip with a shriek, and I shook it off my blade.

  I turned to face the fjord, searching for my next opponents. Del and Ares were similarly overcome, and Roarke was about to be overpowered as well. Serpents dive-bombed him from all angles, surrounding him.

  We were no longer able to climb the stairs—we needed every moment and every ounce of energy to defend against Jörmungand’s children.

  When four of them charged me, my stomach dropped. I ducked behind my shield and swiped out with my blade, but one of the serpents went straight for my legs, knocking them out from under me. The sword fell from my hand as I lost my footing, going over the edge of the stairs.

  I grabbled for the stone ledge, my fingers slipping on the rock, losing contact. My heart almost exploded.

  A hand gripped my wrist, giving me just enough support that I could tighten my grip on the stone ledge. Above me, Del was plastered to the stone stairs, holding on to me. Her wide eyes were panicked, the message clear. We’re fucked.

  Serpents screeched as they charged. Ares loomed over Del, fighting them off to give me a chance to scramble onto the stairs, but there were so many. Only his superior speed gave me a shot. Yet I was too weak to haul myself up.

  Panic filled my body with a thousand prickles. Help! We needed help.

  Magic sparked on the air. Jeff appeared next to me, his onyx eyes fixed on me. Behind him, the Pūķi appeared, flaming red in the dark sky.

  Immediately, the Pūķi charged the serpents, blowing fire. Jeff, concern so clear in the frantic flutter of his wings, flew down. I lost sight of him, but felt a firm pressure under my butt.

  He was trying to push me up! And it worked, just a little. He boosted me enough that I could latch an arm over the stone stairs, then a knee. Del helped me scramble onto firmer ground as Ares fought the serpents who got past the Pūķi’s fiery defense.

  “Run for it!” Del cried.

  I raced up the stairs, my wounded leg aching. The Pūķi held off most of our attackers, blasting their fire at the enemy. I conjured a shield to deflect the rest. They slammed into it as I ran, nipping for my legs. One sank a fang into my calf and I stumbled, hitting my ribs against the stairs. Another bit my thigh.

  I clung desperately as pain surged through me, determined not to fall again, then clambered up and continued. We were so close! Just five more stairs.

  I lunged for solid ground, dragging myself up. Del followed, then Ares, all of us collapsing on the snow.

  Immediately, Del crawled around and screamed, “Roarke!”

  He hurtled out of the night sky, headed straight for us. Blood poured from dozens of bite wounds. The serpents followed him, their green eyes ravenous.

  Jeff fluttered at my side, concerned eyes watching the scene.

  My stomach lurched. Though we were on solid ground, there were still the monsters to contend with. And there were dozens.

  I tried to ignore the pain coursing through me as I staggered to my feet, shield raised. I conjured another sword, bracing myself for impact.

  The horde of serpents was nearly upon us, only twenty feet away. Their fangs gleamed in the moonlight. I was nearly numb with terror, an animal driven by instinct to live.

  Roarke hurtled to the ground next to us, skidding on the snow. He left a trail of bloody white. The serpents that had pursued him stopped dead in their tracks, wings holding them aloft in a line just ten feet from us. They hissed, their frustration clear, then spun and flew away, plummeting down to the water below.

  I stumbled back, panting. Adrenaline made my head woozy.

  “Why did they stop?” Ares asked. “They’re not afraid of us.”

  Del rushed toward Roarke, who lay in the snow. I turned to face Ares, briefly catching sight of his blood-covered body before my gaze fell upon a line of mounted warriors. There were six of them, each dressed in pale blue with white hair and eyes.

  Oh, crap.

  These were the people who had scared Jörmungand’s children.

  “Turn around, Ares.”

  He spun, sword raised. Immediately, he lowered his blade. Del helped Roarke to his feet.

  Two of the mounted figures rode forward. A man and a woman, each wearing identical uniforms. Theirs were fancier than the others, tunics shot through with silver thread that mat
ched their long hair. Though their eyes were entirely whited out, it was clear that they stared at us. Pointed ears peeked through their hair.

  The elves.

  Please be the light elves.

  “Vampire, why did you not transport to the top?” the woman asked.

  Ares stepped forward, his limp minimized, no doubt to show no weakness. “We were told it would be construed as an attack, and in that event, we would meet the dark elves. I have heard of the dark elves. I prefer to meet Jörmungand’s children.”

  The elves smiled, their teeth white and perfect. Though they were beautiful, it was a terrifying smile. Their magic rolled off of them in waves, crushingly powerful. We were outmanned here, no question.

  “Wise choice,” the woman said. “I am Alva. The commander of this regiment. You are on our land. What do you seek here?”

  “Answers,” I said. “Just answers.”

  “How can we trust you?”

  Uhh.

  Jeff chose that moment to flutter out from behind my back, where he’d been hiding. My little dragon was brave, but he knew how to choose his battles.

  Alva’s gaze landed on Jeff and widened. A flash of red caught my eye. The Pūķi had joined us. Alva’s white brows rose even higher. “You have dragons.”

  “I do. Sort of. They’re made more of magic than of flesh and bone, but they are dragons. Though not in the ancient sense.”

  A smile tugged at Alva’s lips. “I can see that. They are far too small. But it is an accepted truth that dragons only congregate with the worthy. As you have three of them, we will permit you entrance to our land.”

  I nearly sagged with relief. Unfortunately, fear had been the only thing keeping me upright. I’d been going on nothing but adrenaline and terror for the last several hours.

  Ares held out a hand. I grabbed it, supporting myself with one arm and the very last of my strength. I could have kissed him for not coming over and swooping me up. I was the leader of our merry little band, and he knew as well as I how important it was to show strength. He gave me only what I needed to save myself from face-planting in the snow.

  “And a healer,” the male elf said. “You need a healer. The venom of Jörmungand’s children is toxic.”