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A Clash of Storms

Page 3

by Bella Forrest


  It took Serena a few moments to digest the information.

  “Listen, at least you’re all together, despite these horrible circumstances. I need you all to hang in there. We’re coming for you tomorrow,” she said, making my heart pump faster. “Draven and the Druids are getting ready, and the allies are in position and waiting for our signal. Jovi will be the first one to land in Luceria as per our plan B, provided the shifters he takes with him play their parts. Our first objective is to get the Daughter out of there. Then Field will send the signal out. The Dearghs will proceed as planned and put the volcanoes to sleep. And then the siege will begin. We’ll come in separately and head straight for you guys!”

  “You make it sound so easy.” I couldn’t help but chuckle.

  My inability to fight my way out of there gave me the pause I needed to just look at the bigger picture. We had an impressive amount of work cut out for us, and none of us Shadians had ever experienced anything like this before, not even during GASP training simulations.

  “Well, it beats stressing over it from top to bottom, don’t you think, Bro?” she quipped.

  I heard her voice tremble. She was worried, and I knew it, but she did a fine job of keeping herself together. My sister was capable of moving mountains with a straight face if she had to—except that sometimes, even she wasn’t aware of it. I hated to admit it, but this strange land of Eritopia had changed her for the better in more ways than one.

  “So, I’ll see you in the morning, then?” I asked with a half-smile, looking at Vita and Aida’s hopeful expressions.

  “Yeah, just don’t bother with coffee and croissants,” she replied. “We’re skipping breakfast.”

  I stifled a chuckle, feeling energized by her wit and ability to make light of what was, without a doubt, our worst predicament to date. We couldn’t afford to despair, anyway. It was exactly what Azazel would want.

  And I was in no way ready to give that bastard anything he wanted, not even my grief.

  Vita

  After Phoenix caught up with Serena, Aida used Telluris to get in touch with Jovi and find out more about his mission to extract the little Daughter. He’d gone over the castle plans, and, based on the throne room and the location of the stairs that accessed the platform, had decided his best bet was coming through the eastern wing of the castle on the fifth level, as it gave him minimum exposure to potential hostiles.

  We spent some time talking about what we could do to get out of there, or at least help Serena and the others. It was becoming increasingly difficult for me to concentrate, as my mind kept returning to Bijarki, trapped in a cage somewhere in Azazel’s dungeon. The only thing we had on our side was time, as Azazel had said he’d yet to punish Bijarki because of the alliance rising. He knew there was an attack coming, but, from what Patrik had told me before, he couldn’t get much information besides that. He had eyes everywhere, but the alliance members were more cunning than the “snakes” on the ground and had managed to keep a low profile. The swamp witch spell that Draven had given them to use against green fireflies had probably helped, too. Azazel had increased defenses around the castle in the meantime, just to be sure no one was getting in.

  Little did the Prince of Destroyers know, it was about to get worse for him on that end. Nevertheless, my heart tightened in my chest at the thought of Bijarki getting hurt. He’d gone through so much trouble just to get to me. It wasn’t fair.

  But, then again, when is life ever fair where Azazel’s involved?

  My mind battled the despair and shoved it into a dark corner. Phoenix was right. There was no time for emotional torment—it only gave Azazel satisfaction, and it did no good to the rest of us. I looked around the platform.

  Abrille was still unconscious, probably sleeping or experiencing a vision. I couldn’t really tell with her, as she had been in full Oracle form from the very beginning, the white eyes and flitting runes a permanent part of her appearance. She had been weakened after passing her powers on to our mothers, but remnants of her Oracle nature were still there. We’d seen it in the way she’d managed to project herself to us, as well as in the visions she’d mentioned herself.

  Something moved along the black marble floor, a few feet away from me. I brought my face closer to the glass and gasped as I recognized the small black viper slithering toward us.

  “Patrik!” I called out, leaning into the bubble.

  “What? Where?” Aida asked, glancing across the platform.

  Her eyes widened when she noticed the little creature getting closer. It was good to see him, after what had happened. I’d feared he’d been captured as well, but, given his ability to shift into any snake size he wanted, it seemed like Patrik had safely gotten out of Nova’s room.

  He stopped in front of my bubble and morphed into his Druid form, gloriously tall and… naked. He gave me a concerned look, while Aida and Phoenix groaned and covered their eyes.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Phoenix croaked. “Couldn’t you have snatched some clothes on the way up here?”

  Patrik raised his eyebrow as he looked at Phoenix.

  “Of course, because there’s nothing less conspicuous than a small viper dragging a pair of pants around in a castle filled with Destroyers ready to crush its head,” he shot back bluntly.

  Phoenix let out a heavy sigh and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and refusing to look at Patrik—like Aida. I was having a hard time with his naked form as well, but, given the circumstances, I was happier with this naked version of him than no Patrik at all.

  “I’m sorry I left you and Bijarki there.” Patrik turned to me with a pained expression. “But I had no other choice. I couldn’t get caught, too…”

  “I know, Patrik. Don’t feel bad,” I replied. “I would’ve done the same if I were you. But you’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Can you get us out of here?”

  He placed his palms on the glass of my bubble and frowned, shaking his head.

  “It’s much more powerful than my magic.” He sighed.

  I counted eighty-seven tattoo bands on his arms. He was, by far, one of the most accomplished Druids who had fallen under Azazel’s control spell, but apparently still was not strong enough to break the glass spheres.

  “What else can I do to help you all?” he asked.

  “Serena and the others are coming for us tomorrow,” I told Patrik. “Jovi will come in from the east wing on the fifth level to get the little Daughter out. So, if you can find out where they’re keeping her, you can help him get to her.”

  “Indeed.” He nodded energetically. “I’ll get her location and wait on the fifth level in the east wing for him, then. “I’m sorry he captured all of you…”

  He looked at Aida and Phoenix when he said that. They slowly turned their heads to face him, trying not to look down at the rest of his body.

  He moved back from the sphere, preparing to shift back into his snake form.

  “Patrik, wait,” Aida said, and he stilled in response. “Damion and Thadeus are not your average Destroyers. They were part of a group of Druid students who were rescued from the Grand Temple on Persea, decades ago, when Azazel took over. They were taken to Marton, and kept a low profile until several of them ventured out on the western shore. Damion and Thadeus were captured by Destroyers there, and brought back to Azazel, but the others are still very much alive and kicking. They’ve joined the alliance, in fact, and will be coming here tomorrow.”

  “They never said anything about their past lives,” Patrik mused, processing the information.

  “Clearly, Damion and Thadeus kept their past on Marton to themselves,” I added. “Azazel doesn’t know about Ori, Malachy, and the others. Maybe you could use this information and get them to fight the control spell harder. Maybe you can help them break free. The more Druids we bring in against Azazel and his Destroyers, the higher our chances of success.”

  Patrik took a deep breath, then nodded. “I’ll see what I can do,” he rep
lied, before shifting back into his black viper form.

  I watched him slither away, and I couldn’t help but put a little prayer out there into the universe, hoping he’d find out where Azazel kept Nova, and even persuade Thadeus and Damion to fight the spell, without getting caught.

  In the meantime, there was nothing left for us to do but wait. I was afraid to try to summon visions of the future—not just because Azazel would then force me to tell him about them, but also because I wasn’t sure we’d changed anything for the better. The liquid I breathed was going to knock me out and push me into a set of visions anyway, but the longer I managed to delay it, the better.

  After all, we pretty much knew what was going to happen next. And given how stressed Azazel was about the alliance—enough to postpone the delight of punishing Bijarki—it made me think that the Prince of Destroyers was, in fact, beginning to contemplate the prospect of death, and had run out of tricks up his sleeve to prevent an alliance attack.

  Our troops were in position, and it was all going to unravel tomorrow, whether he liked it or not.

  Serena

  The night went by slowly. We finished our training somewhere close to midnight. Half of the Mara wards stood watch outside, while the rest of us stayed in the Grand Hall. The cubs were sent to bed early, their satchels packed for the long journey across the ocean.

  I regularly caught up with Aida and Phoenix via Telluris, while keeping watch over the large glowing sphere where Draven and the young Druids had retired for their prolonged training. I grabbed a couple of blankets from my room and settled under the table in the middle of the room, not wanting to be away when they all came out.

  As morning arrived and sunshine burst through the tall, narrow windows, my eyes peeled open, and I quietly listened to the neon-like buzzing of the sphere. According to some rough estimates, six months had gone by in there. Ever since we’d arrived in Eritopia, I’d been a part of Draven’s everyday life. I couldn’t even begin to fathom how it must feel for him to be away for so long. The heartsickness he had to live with, trapped in that sphere. I missed him after just a few hours apart.

  I sat up, rubbing my face and pulling my hair back, while voices outside reminded me that the cubs were getting ready to board the ship, along with several Bajangs from Rebel’s garrison, to sail across the ocean and find some safety on Marton.

  I stilled as Malachy and Ori came out of the sphere first, followed by Flynn, Mason, Cassin, and Dain. They didn’t look any different, though their eyes seemed to hold something they hadn’t when they’d first walked in—the fierceness of a seasoned fighter. Druids aged differently from the humans in our world anyway, and their bodies weren’t easy victims of time. After all, Draven was already a couple of centuries old and didn’t look a day over twenty-five.

  He was the last to come out. The darkness on his face dissipated as soon as he saw me. His eyes flickered black, and I felt a wave of love and longing crashing into me from the bottom of his soul. I stood up but didn’t manage to step forward, as he was already wrapping his arms around me, holding me tight against his body and covering my mouth with his in a dazzling and profound kiss. My blood sizzled.

  He breathed against my lips as he ran his fingers through my hair, then proceeded to cover my face in short, sweet kisses.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered, pulling me into another deep kiss.

  I welcomed his warmth, his hunger, and his primal need to feel me. I kissed him back, cupping his face in my hands. He moaned gently.

  Ori cleared his throat from behind, reminding us that they were all still there. I felt my cheeks burn, but Draven raised a finger to basically say “Hold on, not done yet!” and pressed his lips against mine once more, igniting all my senses at once.

  I eventually found the strength to pull back and look into his gray eyes. He gave me a half-smile.

  “How did it go in there?” I asked, my voice raspy and low.

  “Consider us highly educated now.” Malachy grinned. “Draven here is quite the teacher, in fact!”

  “Although, to be fair, he learned just as much along with us.” Ori winked.

  “How long were you in there?” I looked at the young Druids, who then glanced back at Draven.

  “We don’t really know,” Cassin replied. “Draven was the only one who kept track. We were too focused on catching up with his skill level, which may have been impressive before, but it’s downright jaw-dropping now...”

  “Six months and thirteen days,” Draven said slowly, unable to take his eyes off me. I felt his pain, and did my best to relax and let everything I felt for him radiate out of me, to soothe him.

  “It was worth it, though,” Malachy interjected. “We went through the levels so fast, with such intensity. I didn’t even think it was possible!”

  “I’m guessing the urgency of saving our world had a part to play in this.” Ori pursed his lips, glancing around the hall. “Let’s just say we’re much better equipped to take on Destroyers and Azazel, now.”

  “That’s good!” I beamed at them. “Can we go save my brother and best friends—and the rest of Eritopia while we’re at it—then?”

  “Absolutely.” Draven winked at me before he looked over his shoulder to address the young Druids. “Gather everything you can from the spell supply cabinets in the archive hall. Whatever you can carry in your satchels. I’ll meet you outside on the eastern terrace in an hour.”

  The Druids nodded and left the grand hall, while Draven took my hands into his, a concerned look on his face as his eyebrows pulled into a frown.

  “This is it, Serena,” he said slowly. “Today, we face him.”

  “Today, we kill him,” I added reassuringly.

  He took a deep breath, struggling to say something. I felt ribbons of dull pain coming out of his chest and instantly knew where the conversation was going. I wasn’t eager to discuss this, but I knew we’d have to sooner or later.

  “Serena, we have to talk about this,” he said, instantly reading my emotions. We were so connected that he, too, felt what I was experiencing in that moment. I sighed, and nodded. “Once I take his pendant away from him, you all strike hard and without hesitation.”

  “Yes, Draven.”

  “And if I have to take Asherak’s soul into me, you know what you have to do…”

  I couldn’t answer that one.

  “Serena, look at me.”

  I listened, but tears were already rushing to glaze my eyes. I blinked several times, forcing them to roll down my cheeks. He brushed his knuckles along my jawline and gave me a weak smile.

  “Once he’s out of the pendant’s reach, all we’ll have to do is chop his head off,” I said. “It’ll be over quick.”

  “I agree, darling, but let’s keep all options open. Nothing about this situation has ever been fully predictable,” he replied gently. “If I have to take Asherak into me for you to kill Azazel, I will. And you’ll have to take me down, then, Serena. Do not waiver on my account. Go straight for the head before he takes over completely.”

  “Shut up,” I growled, and hid my face in his chest, holding him tight.

  I felt his kiss on the top of my head and his hands moving slowly up and down my back, and I felt his heartbeat echoed in my chest. I’d heard enough. We were not going to have to cross that bridge, I told myself.

  “I love you, Serena,” he whispered in my ear as I swallowed back more tears.

  “I love you, Draven.”

  Less than an hour later, six Bajangs boarded the ship in the derelict harbor, along with the dozens of cubs who had known nothing but Stonewall their whole lives. I understood every emotion that flickered in their wide eyes—the anguish, the fear, the confusion, and the longing to be with their parents, but they had no choice but to listen if they wanted to survive.

  We waited on the eastern terrace, watching Rebel on the pier below as she waved goodbye to them. The old vessel moaned and creaked as it was pushed out farther into the ocean
. Draven and the Druids lined up on the edge of the terrace, bringing their hands forward and muttering a spell. Bright white lights shot from their palms and vanished into the deep blue water below.

  Incandescent pulses spread out like liquid ripples of light, pushing the ship farther and increasing its speed as it cut across the waves.

  “Is it the same thing you did when we sailed to Marton?” I asked.

  “Yes and no,” he replied. “This is much more powerful. We gave them water wards to keep them safe. Those light pulses you saw are ancient wards we summoned. They’ll guide the ship to Marton and keep it above water at all times. The weather can do nothing against it.”

  “That’s impressive.” Jovi came up from behind us.

  I turned around and saw the rest of our group there, satchels packed, weapons and shields ready for battle. Rebel joined us after a quick sprint and climb up the jagged rocks separating the pier from Stonewall. Her expression was firm, but her eyes were glazed with tears and her lower lip trembled. I didn’t need to reach out with my sentry power to understand her grief and worry for her pack’s cubs, the future generation she’d vowed to protect.

  We gathered in a circle in the middle of the terrace, occasionally glancing at each other.

  “Our time has come,” Draven said. “Are you ready?”

  We all nodded. Jovi rubbed the neck of his shape-shifter horse, while the shape-shifter Destroyer towered behind him.

  “Yeah, we’re ready.” Jovi winked. “My friends here are quite the accomplished thespians, in fact!”

  I held back a smile, pressing my lips together as I hugged him and wished him good luck. Jovi held me tight, sinking his nose in my hair for a moment.

 

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