“Dela!”
The cry of panic came from Layla. She was still on the back of the mountain goat, with her arms around the waist of the big Norc leader, but Dela knew she wouldn’t want to die with her arms around a stranger.
“Layla!”
She reached for her friend, and Layla slid from the back of the goat and into her arms. “I’m frightened!” she cried.
“Me, too.” Dela drew her dagger from her belt. “But we’ll go down fighting, okay?”
Her lips pressed together and she shook her head. “I don’t want to go down at all.”
“Just stay behind me.” She stepped in front of Layla, putting herself between her friend and the cloud.
The different races had begun to gather around their leaders now, ready to defend and protect. The only one who was left alone was the Elvish prince who continued to spill blue light from his fingertips. The look of fierce concentration on his face was both terrifying and mesmerizing at the same time. Did none of his fellow Elvish come near him because they were afraid? Or did they simply not approve of him trying to help?
She noticed how the other races stepped closer, however, offering a protection of their own. Where his own people seemed to have abandoned him, both the leaders of the Moerians and the Norcs had moved in. She’d not been expecting such a thing, assuming the races hated each other, in much the same way humans had always been taught to hate and fear what was different from them. This show of solidarity spoke to her, however, and she found herself staying close to him, too.
A big Norc, similar to their leader, was at his leader’s side. “Stay back, Warsgra!”
But Warsgra stepped forward to stand beside him. “I’ll fight these demons alongside you, not behind you.” He brandished his axe.
The cloud was terrifyingly near now.
The Moerians’ horses sensed the danger and whinnied and rose up on their hind legs, forcing the Moerians from their backs. Perhaps not wanting their animals to meet the same fate they were about to, the dark-skinned men with the shiny black hair allowed the animals to run, the weight of the men on their backs no longer slowing them down.
Together, they stood shoulder to shoulder, a strange infantry lined up in battle. Through the Elvish prince’s magic, they were able to see what they were about to fight. Dela wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Her heart pounded, and her hand trembled around the hilt of her dagger, which she brandished. The Moerians all held spears, and the Norcs gripped their huge axes in two hands.
The cloud crept closer and closer. The demons inside appeared unable to escape, needing for them to be inside the cloud rather than them reaching out to get them. Some people started to lose their nerve, staggering back and crawling away from the line of defense they’d created, but Dela and the leaders of the other races stood their ground. Perhaps it was madness, and she should be running, but this thing would get them eventually. She’d rather face it standing tall with a weapon in her hand than crawling on all fours and begging for her life.
The demons were close now, lunging for them as though they were divided only by a sheet of glass. She saw the wicked spikes of teeth in their gaping maws, and the evil flash of red in their eyes. They had nothing other than pain and death on their minds; that much Dela was certain of. The sound of their piercing screams was enough to turn her heart to ice, and combined with the screams of the people they’d already gotten hold of, made her want to jab something sharp into her ears, so she’d never have to hear anything again. Through the cloud, she could already see the rocky ground of the Southern Pass smeared with the blood of those already killed.
The Long White Cloud was so close now, trickling nearer, inch by inch. Dela stood with her right foot forward, her left back, brandishing the knife and ready for attack the moment the cloud swallowed her.
Instinctively, she held her breath, bracing herself, and had to stop herself closing her eyes against its enveloping mass. One of the demons had already set its sights on her, and it drew back its lipless mouth, revealing row after row of sharp teeth, and let out a hiss.
The cloud reached her, crawling over her body, and the demon lunged.
Without warning, Vehel’s light changed. Instead of directing toward the cloud in a beam, it now circled them, enveloping them in a ball. The demon that had been lunging toward her hit the light and bounced off, its screams of rage filling Dela’s ears.
She gasped in surprise, having fully prepared herself to be wrestling a demon right now. What had happened? Was the light somehow protecting them? She glanced to either side to find the light surrounding her in a sphere. But it was only large enough to encase a handful of people, and, purely due to their proximity to the Elvish prince and the fact he didn’t have any of his own people with him, it was only Vehel, herself, the Moerian leader, and the Norc leader who were caught inside the ball.
Instinctively, she reached out for Layla, but though her friend was still behind her, she was no longer with her. The circle of light that had surrounded her had also divided her from her friend, leaving Layla on the outside, exposed and vulnerable.
“Layla, no!”
She tried to grab her, her friend reaching back, but the light had some kind of charge when she tried to reach through it that felt like a hundred Bottlehead wasp stings all at the same time. She pulled back her hand and let out a scream of pain and frustration.
“Stop it!” she cried to the Elvish prince. “Make it stop!”
But he no longer appeared to have any control over it. His eyes were wide open and glowing the same color as the light that now surrounded them, protecting them. His whole body vibrated with the power, and she thought it might kill him.
All around them was carnage. People screamed, and either fought or ran. Either way, it didn’t seem to matter as they met their end, whichever choice they made.
The Norcs swung their axes wildly, hacking at the demons attacking, and the Moerians let out shrill cries and lunged with their spears.
She saw the Norc who’d been by his leader’s side this whole time battling hard with one of the demons, but even a man of his fierce strength and size was losing. Layla had run, and Dela caught sight of Brer and Norton also fighting back. She wanted to help, but she was trapped inside this damned orb.
The big Norc leader, Warsgra, gave a yell of anger and lifted his axe high above his head. “Let us out, Vehel! Bring it to an end!”
The Moerian with the twin braids tried to grab the Elvish prince but was thrown backward by his power.
Her mouth dropped open in fascinated horror as Warsgra gave a war cry and swung the weapon down with all his might.
The world exploded around them, like all the air had been sucked from the space they’d inhabited, and then flung them out again.
Dela flew through the air and hit the ground, the side of her head smacking on rock.
And everything went black.
STILLNESS WAS ALL AROUND her.
The mayhem and terrified screams of being trapped inside the Long White Cloud had vanished.
Was it over?
Layla!
Her eyes snapped open at the thought of her friend.
Where the hell was she?
Dela frowned and then groaned as she pushed herself to sitting. Every muscle in her body hurt, and she winced, trying to stretch out her aching limbs. But she wasn’t badly injured—nothing bleeding or cut off, except for maybe a bump to the head.
Blinking her eyes open to bright sunlight, she looked around. Confusion flooded her. She was lying on a flat rock that appeared to be on the edge of a cliff. An expanse of countryside stretched out before her, but she was no longer in the Southern Pass, or even in the mountains. And not only that, she wasn’t alone.
Sitting on the edge of the rock, looking out over the surrounding area, was the Elvish prince. Vehel. He had his back to her, and she wasn’t sure if he knew she was awake or even there. That wasn’t all. To the other side, lying face down, so his broad naked ba
ck was exposed to the sunlight, was the Norc, Warsgra.
She looked on the other side of her, already certain of what she’d find. Yes, there he was—the Moerian, though she was unsure what he was known by. Like Warsgra, he was also unconscious. She preferred to think that, rather than dead, but the unnerving way he was utterly still made her think he was more than just asleep.
Her chest tightened at the thought of her last memory, of how they’d been attacked by those things in the Long White Cloud. What had happened? Had she been knocked unconscious, and they’d somehow escaped and brought her here—wherever here was? But it didn’t look anything like the mountains they’d left behind. Everything about the place felt different. A hot sun beat down on her shoulders and the top of her head. Even the air tasted different in her mouth. It wasn’t possible for them to have traveled so long and far, and for her to remain unconscious the whole time.
Was this even real? Was she dreaming?
Dela spoke. “What happened?” Her voice was coarse, and the Elvish prince jumped at the sound.
He turned back to look over his shoulder at her. “My magic happened.”
That wasn’t much of an explanation. “I remember the light ... the circle ...”
He nodded at the unconscious Norc. “Warsgra did something to it when he struck it with his axe. I don’t know what. One minute we were there, and now we’re here.”
Dela’s confusion deepened. What was he saying? “Here?”
“From the little I’ve seen, and the temperature, I believe we’re somewhere in the Northern region of Xantearos. I’m hoping when Orergon wakes, he’ll recognize something and be able to tell us more.”
“Orergon? Is that the Moerian leader’s name?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re Vehel?”
“That’s right. And you’re Dela.”
She nodded. Her mind raced at a million miles a minute. “I don’t understand. We can’t have traveled to the north already. It would take weeks.”
“I think Warsgra somehow put a cut in reality, fractured a hole that we were sucked through.”
“This is crazy,” she whispered, her hand at her mouth. “What about all the people we left behind? What happened to them?”
He shook his head. “My best guess is that they’re all dead.”
Tears flooded her eyes. “Oh, no. Not Layla!”
She couldn’t bear to think that she’d lost everyone—Norton, Brer, all the others, but especially Layla. She’d done everything she could to protect her friend, but by standing in front of Layla, instead of beside her, she’d nudged her out of the circle of protection. When they’d somehow been pushed through a layer in reality, Dela had left Layla in the Southern Pass.
Her heart tore in two at her loss, and she placed her face in her hands and let out a wail of heartbreak. She didn’t care that this stranger—a prince, no less—was watching her grieve. If only she’d done things differently, if only she’d known. She’d have pushed Layla into the circle of light before taking her place there herself. Had Layla, in her final moments, witnessed the group vanish? Were her final thoughts that her friend had abandoned her in her greatest moment of need? The idea was as though someone had stuck a knife in her guts and twisted it with everything they had. She remembered this pain; it was the same she’d experienced when she found out Ridley had died. Helpless, futile, inescapable pain, combined with the unnerving anxiety that something even worse was about to happen at any moment.
She thought of Layla’s family back in Anthoinia, and how devastated they’d be when they heard the news, and her own family, too, who would assume she’d died with Layla.
“What by the Gods happened?” a gruff voice sounded behind her.
She wiped away her tears and turned to see the hulking Norc on his knees, his hair falling around his face and shoulders, frowning around at everyone.
Sudden anger burst through her, and she lunged at him, her small fists striking him in the chest. He hadn’t been expecting it, and even though she was half his size, her fury and momentum sent him sprawling backward, so he landed on his back, with her on top. She punched at his chest, and then went for his face, but he caught her wrists in his hands, holding her firm.
“This is your fault!” she cried, struggling against him. “It was your axe that did this! We’d all still be back there if it hadn’t been for you.”
“Whoa, girl. Stop your fighting.”
She struggled even harder, but it was as though he’d clamped her wrists in stone.
He continued. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“You hit Vehel’s light with your axe, and it brought us here!”
He looked around, but sat up, still holding her wrists, so she fell into his lap, straddling him. She was painfully aware of how close to his bare chest she was, and how his muscular, hairy thighs were right beneath hers. Considering the Norcs lived in such cool climates, why didn’t they wear more clothes? Warsgra, however, seemed to have completely forgotten he had hold of her, never mind that she was now straddling his lap.
“I didn’t do anything.”
Vehel had gotten to his feet and approached them now, nodding. “You did. I don’t know how, but when you hit my magic, it split something. Didn’t you feel it, too, as though all the air was being sucked out from inside the ball I created, and we were pulled with it?”
Recognition lit in the Norc’s green eyes, and he nodded slowly. “Yes, I remember that part. And then ... nothing ...”
“We were all the same,” Vehel continued. “I woke first, and saw the three of you still unconscious.”
Dela tried to pull her hands from Warsgra again. He frowned at her, as though only just remembering she was there.
“Are you going to keep hitting me, wee girl?” he asked.
Sullenly, Dela pressed her lips together, glanced away, and shook her head. He released her, and she scrambled back to her feet, glad to put some space between them.
She looked over at the Moerian, Orergon. “Shouldn’t someone check if he’s all right?”
“Aye.” Warsgra got to his feet and walked over. He shoved Orergon in the back with his boot. “You all right down there?”
That wasn’t quite what Dela had meant. “Don’t do that! You’ll hurt him.”
Warsgra snorted. “He’s tough. He can handle a boot to the back.”
“Not when he’s unconscious.”
Dela crossed over to him and dropped to her knees beside the unconscious man. His twin braids had fallen over his face, and she gently lifted one and moved it back so she could see him more clearly. Thick, jet black eyelashes rested on his cheek, and his lips were parted slightly as he slept. His nose was aquiline and strong, and where she’d moved the braid revealed high cheekbones.
His eyes shot open, fixing on hers. The surprise made her dart back, and he did exactly the same thing, so one moment they were staring into each other’s eyes, and the next they were flinging themselves away from each other.
Orergon looked around in confusion. “What ... how ...?”
Vehel stepped forward and explained the situation again, or at least as much as he knew of it. “I hoped you might recognize something of where we’ve ended up,” he finished.
Orergon got to his feet. He stood taller than Vehel, but not as tall as Warsgra. The clothes he wore were mostly leather, a contrast to Vehel’s expensive silver armor, or Warsgra’s general lack of clothing. He jammed his hands on his hips and looked around at their surroundings, a slight frown furrowing his brow.
“This isn’t the Southern Pass,” he said eventually. “Or the Vast Plains, either.”
“We’re aware of that,” Vehel said, “but do you know where it is?”
The Moerian lifted his face to the air and sniffed. “North, definitely, and from the temperature, I think we’re even farther north than the Vast Plains.”
Dela shook her head in amazement. “That’s just not possible.”
“It is. It must be. Because we’re here, aren’t we? One moment we were in the Southern Pass, and now we’re here. We all saw what happened with Vehel’s magic and Warsgra’s axe. Maybe we can’t explain it, but we were all there when it happened. There’s no point in trying to think otherwise.”
“Maybe we can use the magic to get back again,” Dela blurted. “Vehel, you can create the ball of light again, and Warsgra, you can hit it with the axe. It might take us back to where we came from.”
“Do we really want to go back into the Southern Pass?” Warsgra lifted his bushy eyebrows in disbelief. “We’d most likely be dead right now if we were still there.”
“We could be helping!” Dela snapped.
He snorted. “Helping feed the demons.”
Dela lashed out, smacking the bulky muscle of his bicep. “Stop that. Those were our friends we left behind.”
“And I suggest you stop hitting me.”
She scowled. Making out that Layla and the others had become meals for the demons deserved a thump. It wasn’t as though she could hurt him.
“They weren’t friends of mine,” Vehel said. “And I expect my father will throw a party for the whole of our kingdom when he learns I’m most likely dead.”
His words shocked her. “You can’t mean that.”
He lifted his chin higher, as though owning his words. “Those other Elvish who accompanied me were only there to report back on how I’d conducted myself during the Passover. My father always believed I wasn’t capable of leading such an important mission, and I guess I’ve proven him to be correct.”
Her mouth dropped. “The white cloud descending wasn’t your fault, and we’d probably all be dead right now if you hadn’t used your magic.”
He shook his head and glanced away. “If anyone has survived ...” Then he corrected himself. “If any of your fellow humans have survived and manage to get back to Anthoinia, they’ll recount what happened. They’ll tell your king and queen that I used magic to save myself and the other leaders, and most likely say I kidnapped you. That’s plenty enough for your king and queen to announce the Treaty broken and give them reason to put an army together to invade the Inverlands, and most likely the rest of the Western coast, too. They’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this. It wouldn’t surprise me if they somehow set the whole thing up.”
Chronicles of the Four: The Complete Series Page 10
