A Thunder of War (The Avalon Chronicles Book 3)

by Steve McHugh

  As Mammon circled above, a blast of blue pure magic punched a hole into one of his wings and he fell, spiraling, at an incredible rate and spewing his own pure magic as he went.

  Layla and the others ran toward the source of the pure magic where, to Layla’s delight, they found Mordred and Kase.

  Mammon smashed into the ground with incredible force, his one good wing sending dust and muck in the direction of Layla and her allies.

  “Looks like we get to kill another dragon,” Remy said. “Lucky us.”

  Mordred ran toward the dragon, throwing pure magic at the creature, who turned so the magic hit his scaled side, before whipping his tail around to knock Mordred aside. He flew fifty feet before hitting the ground. He got back up just as the others attacked the dragon as one.

  Pure magic, aimed directly at Layla, poured out of his mouth, and she hastily wrapped the metal from the field around her body like a shield, making sure that none of it touched her. The steel, iron, and silver that Layla had gathered turned white-hot as the magic hit it. She poured her energy into keeping the shield together, and when she no longer heard the roar of the power, she dropped the metal all around her. The shield had saved her life, and she stood in a smoldering, blackened strip of field. She dropped to her knees, needing a moment to recover after using such a huge amount of power.

  Layla stared at Mammon as a griffin flew directly overhead, dropping Lucifer onto the dragon. Lucifer hit Mammon with incredible force, his pure magic exploding out all around him, driving Mammon into the dirt, just as Irkalla hit him with her necromancy energy. Mordred joined Irkalla and together they poured their power into Mammon, tearing into his flesh and causing the massive beast to cry out in pain. Layla tore metal out of the ground, turning it into dozens of sharp arrowheads, and threw them at the dragon. Most of it cascaded off the creature’s scales, but some hit its soft belly. He cried out, beating his wings, as he tried to escape.

  Unable to fly due to his broken wing, Mammon roared pure magic at his attackers, causing most of Layla’s allies to run for cover behind the remains of trebuchets, or large rocks. Dralas grabbed Mammon by the throat and with his free hand punched him in the maw, knocking his massive head aside. Mammon leapt up at Dralas, biting the giant on the shoulder and wrapping his massive legs around Dralas’s torso. Dralas headbutted him, but Mammon’s serrated tail tip whipped around, piercing Dralas’s back and coming out of his chest. Mammon opened his mouth to breath pure magic once again, but nothing came out, and in his rage, he flung Dralas’s body across the battlefield.

  Tarron rushed to his friend’s aid and Layla watched in disbelief as the giant decreased in size. And from that disbelief and hurt, rage was born. She looked back at Mammon and got to her feet. She was exhausted, she had been beaten, hurt, and almost killed several times, but anger flooded her body.

  “Do it,” Terhal said from beside her. “Accept everything you are. Everything you can become. Accept what you are born from, accept that you are not your parents. You are your own woman. You are everything they could never be. You are power incarnate. A weapon created to rival sorcery. A weapon that is yours to wield as you see fit. Show the dragon what you are.”

  Layla reached out with her power, flooding the field with it. She found every scrap of metal that she could, took apart every silver weapon as the ground beneath her feet cracked open, her skin burning bright orange from the effort. She ignored it, pushed it aside.

  “This is the power of the umbra,” Terhal said.

  With a roar of hate, rage, and hurt, she turned those thousands of pieces of metal into weapons, throwing them all at Mammon at once. The pieces merged together until a dozen ten-foot-long blades slammed into Mammon’s chest and neck. Most glanced off his scales, but three went inside his flesh, causing him to scream in pain as the silver went to work.

  Layla began to walk toward the dragon, using her power to push the blades further into his body, causing him to writhe in pain as her allies poured more and more of their power onto the creature.

  Terhal stood in front of Layla and smiled. “It’s been a pleasure,” she said. “You know what to do.”

  Layla opened her mouth to speak, but found that she couldn’t, the pressure on her body too great for her to utter even a syllable. Orange light spilled out of her eyes, and her vision changed color.

  “Be seeing you,” Terhal said, and vanished from view, as a flood of power entered Layla’s body, causing her to cry out from the intensity of the feeling.

  Layla forced herself to extend her power as she noticed several more of her allies rushing to attack the dragon. Using the blades embedded in Mammon as an anchoring point, she took control of the tiny pieces of metal that made up the internal structure of the dragon. She dropped to her knees, the power too much, the intensity almost unbearable.

  Mordred unleashed every part of pure magic he had at his disposal, Lucifer following suit, while Irkalla and Kase used their own power. Diana, Tarron, Remy, and dozens more ran interference, keeping the elves at bay, but Layla blocked it all out as she pushed the silver inside the spears into Mammon’s body. When she felt that her power had pushed as much of the tiny parts of metal inside Mammon’s body as she could, she pulled on all of it at once.

  The effect was something Layla would never forget. Mammon’s entire body was ripped to shreds as thousands of pieces of metal were torn out of his body in one go, leaving nothing but pieces of flesh in their wake. For a moment, the metal hovered around Layla, before dropping over her as she stopped using the power and crumpled to her knees, her skin returning to normal, her vision no longer tinged orange.

  She looked around, emotion brimming up within her, and burst into tears. She’d lost too much. More than anyone should lose. She’d fought and fought, with no hint of stopping. Tearing apart a dragon as her friends bombarded it with magical energy was more than enough to send her tipping over the edge.

  Kase immediately wrapped her huge wolf beast arms around Layla and held her. Remy ran up and held Layla’s hand in his own, his words lost to her as her brain tried to catch up with what she’d done.

  Eventually, Kase moved away, and Layla looked up at the worried faces of her friends. “I’m fine,” Layla said. “We have a war to win.”

  She looked over at the battle, which appeared to be nowhere near as ferocious as it had been a short time ago.

  “A lot of blood elves just ran away,” Mordred said. “Most jumped in the river to escape and died in the process. A few made it across, but we’ll find them. I have no idea how you just did what you did.”

  “Dralas,” Layla said, leaping to her feet. The look on Tarron’s face confirmed her suspicions. She ran to Tarron, who was inconsolable at the loss of his friend, and held him.

  “He died a hero,” Tarron said. “Oddly enough, he’d have liked that.”

  “What now?” Layla asked, looking around.

  “We beat Abaddon and Mammon, and stopped Helheim and Yggdrasil from falling into enemy hands,” Lucifer said.

  “Not to mention saving the dwarves and stopping Avalon from getting their hands on Tartarus,” Mordred said.

  “My mom . . . ? Elizabeth?” Layla asked.

  Kase stepped forward. She had reverted to her human form, and had found some armor that fit her. “I had to. I’m sorry.”

  Layla hugged Kase tighter than she’d ever hugged her before. “Thank you,” Layla whispered. “Thank you for making it right.”

  The pair of them stayed like that for some time as cheers went up from the defenders of Helheim. Layla smiled, and looked back at everyone who had helped defend a city of people.

  “We’re not done yet,” Irkalla said.

  “Yeah, I know,” Layla said. “But this feels like we did something great here. Something that people will talk about for a long time.”

  “We defied the devils,” Remy said. “And beat the odds.”

  “And Avalon got its first bloody nose,” Tarron said.

  “Let’s
go help these people,” Layla said. “The work is far from done.”

  25

  LAYLA CASSIDY

  One Week Later

  The funeral pyre blazed high into the sky of Shadow Falls, as many of those who took part in the battle of Niflhel stood around in reverent silence as Dralas’s body was sent to be with his ancestors. Layla spotted Tarron across the crowd of thousands, standing the closest to his friend’s body. Tarron had been quiet and withdrawn since returning to Shadow Falls and had spent all of his time preparing to leave to search for any shadow elves that might remain in the realms.

  As the night came, the somber mood turned to one of celebration, and Layla found herself having far too much of the dwarven ale that Vorisbo had brought back from Nidavellir. Vorisbo, who appeared to have trouble walking in a straight line, moved over to Layla and hugged her.

  “My father’s body has been put to rest,” she said.

  “I didn’t know that Jomik was your father,” Layla said. “I am so sorry for what you’re going through.”

  Zamek joined the pair, offering his condolences to Vorisbo.

  “My prince,” she said, bowing her head.

  “No,” Zamek said. “Your father was your king, and the rightful line of succession falls to you.”

  “While my name has already been put forward as the next in line,” she said, “I am a . . . science geek. I believe that’s the right term, yes?”

  “Remy?” Layla asked.

  “He’s been most helpful in showing me the ways of the Earth realm,” Vorisbo said.

  “He has?” Zamek asked, sharing a surprised look with Layla.

  “He was sorry to hear about my father. He wanted to take my mind off it, so he took me to Maine and showed me around the humans who live there. It helped a lot.”

  Layla spotted Remy talking to Irkalla, Diana, and Hades. “That bugger is full of surprises,” Layla said.

  “I assume you will want to take over as king,” Vorisbo said to Zamek.

  “Not even a little bit,” Zamek said, raising his hands to show he wanted no part of it. “I was never a good prince even when I was meant to be. I would be a dreadful king. Besides, I’m needed here, and I want to see if I can figure out where the vast majority of our people went. You’re smarter than most, and more than capable with an ax and fist. Your father was laid to rest two days ago, so there’s a month where people can challenge you. I’ll stand by your side when that happens. Although, from what I’ve seen, most of the dwarves who fought beside us would happily do that job too.”

  “You have a month with no ruler?” Layla asked.

  “It’s a weird tradition,” Zamek said. “No one rules, no one works, no one does anything for a month, or until the last challenger appears and the elders declare the mourning period over. Whichever comes first. I never liked it when my father was king, and I’m still not a fan of it now.”

  “You will do fine,” Layla assured Vorisbo. “And if anyone tries to say otherwise, kick their ass back in line.”

  Vorisbo laughed. “Thank you. For everything.”

  Layla hugged her and moved away, saying hello to friends and allies on her way to find Hades and Persephone, who were surrounded by griffins.

  “Lorin,” Layla said, bowing her head slightly. “Thank you for your aid.”

  “We are happy to have helped,” he said. One of Lorin’s wings had been badly damaged in the battle. “We’ve decided to stay here in Shadow Falls until this war is ended. Tartarus is inaccessible from anywhere now that Zamek has changed the realm gate destination. I think we will do more good from this realm.”

  “Speaking of which,” Persephone said, “did Zamek find out where he sent Abaddon?”

  “The realm is uncharted,” Layla said. “Zamek, Vorisbo, and Harry looked through the books they’d found in Nidavellir, but they found nothing. She is somewhere no one has ever discovered. We won’t have to worry about her for a while.”

  “That’s probably for the best,” Hades said. “Gives us all time to deal with one problem. I thought you’d like to know, I received word that Avalon has withdrawn its forces from the other Norse realms. Or at least has disengaged the fighting. Apparently, the loss in Helheim was enough to make them think twice about what they need to do to win. They won’t quit, and we have a lot of work to do, but this part of it is done. Helheim is safe. The Yggdrasil tree is safe, even more so now that Hel has posted several garrisons of griffins all around the mountain. And, most importantly, a large number of blood elves and powerful allies to Avalon have been vanquished.”

  “What about the remaining blood elves?” Layla asked.

  “We’re hunting them down as we speak,” Persephone said. “And preparing for whatever Avalon might do next. But, right now, we’re going to celebrate this win. A win we all earned. And most definitely deserved.”

  “I agree,” Layla said. “But I won’t be a part of it. I’m going to go with Tarron to find his people. Not only because it feels right to help him, but also because if there are shadow elves out there, we’re going to need their help. If Zamek can find the dwarves, and we can find the shadow elves, and convince them to aid us, we could take all the realms back.”

  “Have you told everyone?” Hades asked.

  Layla nodded. “They understand. I’ll be taking Tego with us; she’s currently swimming in the lake and eating fish, which is her own well-deserved reward.”

  The rest of the night went by in a bit of a haze for Layla, as more and more people discovered her plans to leave and wanted to come talk to her. She eventually fell asleep under a large tree near the palace, and woke up to find Tego lying against her.

  “Good morning to you too,” Layla said to the panther, who purred slightly, got to her feet, and walked over to Tarron, who was leaning against a tree.

  “I wasn’t watching you sleep,” Tarron said. “I promise. That’s weird, and . . . well, weird is probably enough.”

  Layla smiled. “If your enjoyment comes from watching a grown woman drool onto her saber-tooth panther, you probably have more problems than just being a bit weird. We leaving today?”

  Tarron nodded. “There are some dwarves who want to come with us. Mostly, I think, because they find the whole thing fascinating. As is Hyperion.”

  Layla sat bolt upright. “Say what?”

  “Yeah, he found me last night and informed me that he would be joining us. I think he doesn’t want to be the leader of the Titans. It’s a lot of pressure, and, frankly, between Hades, Persephone, and the others here, I think he sees it as a chance to take himself away from a job he never wanted in the first place.”

  “Sounds a bit like you and Zamek,” Layla said. “Two princes who don’t want to be princes.”

  “I said before, I was never a prince.”

  “Sorry, the son of an elder,” Layla said with a flourish that made Tarron smile. “I’m sorry about Dralas. I really am.”

  Tarron nodded. “I know. He was a good giant. There aren’t many like him, and I’ll miss him a great deal. I’d like to find his people and tell them the news, but I’m not sure they’d be happy to see us.”

  “And you want to see if you can trace the sun elves.”

  “Yes, there’s that too. They need to pay for what they’ve wrought. All this death and destruction, and they had a hand in it. It needs to be stopped. And I plan on doing just that.”

  Layla nodded. “Well, I’ll be there by your side and hopefully we’ll find them sooner rather than later.”

  “Before we go, Harry was looking for you. He’s over by the realm gate with Leonardo and Antonio. I’ll see you soon.”

  Layla walked away and found Hyperion on the outskirts of the temple, sitting against one of the houses in Shadow Falls that had become home for many of the Titans. Hyperion and his fellow Titans had been instrumental in the defense of the realm of Helheim. Hundreds had died, but not one civilian in Niflhel had been harmed.

  “We won,” Hyperion said. He’d received
a cut across his nose and cheek that would leave a nasty scar. “We lost a lot to achieve it, but we won.”

  “I’m sorry for everything you lost,” Layla said. “But I’m not sorry you came to help us. I hear you want to join me and Tarron?”

  “Yes, that would be nice.”

  She got up and offered Hyperion her fist, which he looked at in confusion.

  “You bump it,” Layla said.

  Hyperion did as he was instructed and smiled. “I have fist bumped before,” he told her. “I just never expected to be welcomed so warmly. Hades himself has declared that we are to be as free as any man, woman, and child who opposes Avalon’s rule. I’m not sure the rest of the Greek pantheon will agree with him, but seeing how most of them either work for Avalon or have hidden themselves away to stay out of the war, I’m not sure I care. Even so, our new status will take some getting used to.” He unslung a sword from his back and passed it to Layla. “I want you to have this.”

  Layla removed the white cloth that was wrapped around it, revealing a beautifully intricate sheath of purples, blues, and golds. “What’s it depicting?” Layla asked, unsure of the symbols’ meaning.

  “It belonged to Cronus,” Hyperion said. “It depicts the uniting of the Titans against a common foe. In this case, the devils.”

  Layla unsheathed the weapon and held it in front of her, the blade gleaming as the light from the nearby fire touched it. It was perfectly balanced. “It’s stunning, thank you.”

  “I saw you fight Mammon. I saw what you did. You deserve this. Cronus himself would have been in awe of how you defeated that dragon.”

  “I didn’t do it alone,” she said, feeling overwhelmed by people telling her how amazing she was.

  “I know. And the fact that you know and acknowledge that means that you will be a better owner of this sword than Cronus was. Use it well. When you’re ready to go, I’ll join you in the temple.”