She opened her mouth to shout again, when a Rastgol turned toward her. She pulled a knife from her belt and threw it with a cry of pain. The blade sank into his green eye, but still he surged forward. As his blade lashed out, she stepped to the side and slashed at him. Another approached her from the left, blocking her from her brother’s flame. She parried their blows, pain lancing through her with every jarring clash.
Finally, seeing an opening, she stepped into the Rastgol, separating his neck from his shoulders, but she couldn’t turn fast enough for the second. She raised her daggers just a moment too late and braced for the slice of the edge.
Instead, a broadsword smashed down on the man, and Makeo was there beside her, his breath coming fast and blood matting his blond fur. “Are you all right?”
“Mogens is dead.” She stumbled forward. “I have to reach Zephyr. Conrad has got to be controlling these things. If we can kill him, the battle will be over.”
Makeo took her elbow, steadying her as she lurched forward. “Is he here?”
“Aza!” Zephyr had spotted them now and battled through the throng of Rastgol surrounding him, lashing out with his flaming sword. “The Dolobra has fallen.”
She nodded and parried the blade thrusting for her. “We still have to kill the necromancer. Have you seen a green aura?”
Zephyr whirled, taking out the two approaching from behind. “There are two.” He pointed. “But they’re deeper in the forest, and the Carceroc creatures are protecting them.” His expression darkened. “I think they’re being controlled as well.”
“It could be another trap,” Makeo said with a grunt as he swung his sword again.
“But if the Dolobra is dead, why haven’t they retreated?” She surveyed the battlefield. Though it raged on, the Maldibor clearly had the upper hand. “Mogens acted as if they were planning something else.”
“And if we don’t strike now, we may be unfortunate enough to find out what,” Makeo finished for her.
Aza squinted into the darkness at the two glowing, green figures. One closer and one farther off. Cloaked in shadow, she could make it without drawing any attention to herself. But which one?
She straightened and crossed the gloom to Zephyr’s side. “Zephyr, if you distract the creatures, I will deal with Conrad… and whoever stands beside him.”
“Take the farther.” Makeo raised his broadsword. “With the flames as a distraction, I’ll be able to make it to the closer.”
She flashed a smile at him, ignoring the pain. “No hitches.”
“I think I’ve already won that bet.” His eyes shone with a weary glint of humor.
She snorted. “And I thought it was going rather well.” She slapped her brother on the shoulder. “Put on a good show, Zeph.”
Then with that, she let the shadows fall over her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Idriel’s Children
Sliding through the trees, Aza focused on her breathing. Small, silent puffs of air. She rolled her steps heel to toe as silent as a cat in the night. With the shadows around her, the eyes of the warriors all slid away, the noises of battle dimming behind as she cut into the darkness of the forest. Her childhood monsters vanquished, she felt no fear. No whispers called to her.
Pain and exhaustion stabbed through her focus, but they were familiar friends by now. Even as they needled her, Seela’s voice echoed in her thoughts, strong and true. “Control your mind first, and your body will follow.” Aza could practically see her straight back and arched eyebrows challenging her. “The mind always fails before the body. Focus. Believe it possible and feel your own limitations disappear.”
A glowing pair of green eyes loomed in front of her, and at first, she thought Seela had awoken from the grave to stand in front of her. In another breath, she realized it was a beautifully translucent woman—a syrish—standing oddly still in the darkness. Her very voice could draw a soul from its body. She padded past the monster and found herself in a veritable thicket of life. Cyclogres, griegals, giants, and terraverms, surrounded her, green eyes unnaturally fluorescent in the dark. Like the Hunters. Marked with yanaa. Waiting for something.
Zephyr had been right. These creatures were being controlled. But why? Without the Dolobra to break the yanai barrier that imprisoned them, they had no chance of escaping Carceroc. Was Conrad just planning on staying here with this as his personal guard? She smiled to herself. If so, he had severely underestimated her. There were many things in Carceroc that couldn’t be killed with fire and steel… but she didn’t need to kill them. And she had a feeling Conrad bled just like her.
She found him wedged between the feet of a cyclogre, his eyes rolled in the back of his head as his hands twitched, like a strange puppeteer above his marionettes. Let’s see how quickly I can cut those strings. On silent, weary feet, she crept up behind Conrad, the perfumed smell of his oiled hair tickling her nose. She gripped one of his shoulders and—
“Don’t do it, Shadow Heir,” a cold, familiar voice cut through the darkness. “Or your pet dog dies.”
Aza paused, her dagger edge at Conrad’s throat and his hands scrabbling fruitlessly at her arm. Did she mean Luna? Locking Conrad’s neck in the crook of her elbow, she turned toward the voice and froze.
Makeo’s huge, prone body floated in front of Ivanora, her green aura connecting him to her.
“What are you doing here, Ivanora?”
“Yo—" Conrad started.
Aza pressed the blade edge harder against his throat, silencing him. “Put Makeo down and just walk away from all of this,” she called. “You’re not a necromancer. You’re not one of them.”
“Oh, girl.” A smile curved her crimson lips. “I’m much more than just another magus, now.” She curled her fingers tighter into a fist, and the audible snap of a bone cracked through the air. Makeo howled with pain.
“Stop it!” Aza shouted. “Why are you doing this?”
“You know…” Ivanora brought a mocking finger to her cheek, disgust twisting her beautiful features into something vile. “I used to think it was just Elika I hated, these brutish beasts that he spawned, and the repulsive humans who killed my sister for no reason at all.” She curled her hand and another bone in Makeo’s body snapped. His yell grated on Aza’s heart. “But then, Valente here revealed what I had missed. I hate all humans.”
“Conrad is human!” Aza held him up as if to brandish the proof of his flesh and blood—of his mortality. “He’s fooling you.”
Ivanora wagged a finger at her, like a scolding teacher. “No, no dear. Valente, myself, and our dear Mogens who sacrificed himself for the cause…” She raised a hand with a flourish. “We are the children of Idriel.”
“Idriel is a demon of death.” Confusion swirled through Aza’s mind as she tried to piece together the rest of Ivanora’s plan. “And he’s dead. My parents killed him.”
Ivanora rolled her eyes, though a smile curled her lips. A glutted predator toying with its prey. “All that time with the Wraith-Called and still so slow-minded. Weak. Arrogant.”
Aza’s stomach turned at the familiarity of the words.
“Idriel will wipe Okarria clean,” Ivanora continued. “We will start anew, free of the tragedy of death.”
“And I thought you were smart enough not to be wooed with lies and false promises,” Aza snapped, her mind desperately racing for a way out of this.
“It’s really no matter if you believe me or not.” She shrugged. “You will see the proof before we’re done.”
“The Dolobra is dead. Mogens is dead. Your Rastgol corpses are overwhelmed.” Aza scoffed. “Are you just going to hide here in Carceroc with your other puppets?”
“And so short-sighted at that.” Ivanora sighed theatrically. “Best just to show you, but I am afraid I do need that one first, please.”
Conrad struggled, and Aza tightened her grip on him again, the warm blood trickling from his throat down her arm. She should just kill him. Whatever Ivanora was planning would surely tak
e many more lives. That possible future for Makeo’s one life. It wasn’t worth the trade. And yet… her hand stilled.
Ivanora flexed her fingers, and two more bones snapped.
Makeo roared in pain, but even as he did, he managed to get three words out against whatever spell was holding him. “Do it, Aza.”
Cold sweat slid down Aza’s temples. “Even if I let Conrad go, you’ll kill Makeo anyway.”
“I will not,” Ivanora said, her face firm. “You can have your creature. I swear it on Idriel himself. A magus keeps her word, unlike you humans.”
“And reverse his curse as well,” Aza added, trying to buy herself time to think. Her gaze swiveled in the night, looking for anything she could use to her advantage, anyone who could help her. But the forest was emptied, and her brother’s flame was still too far away, embroiled with Conrad’s creatures.
Ivanora laughed, long and hard. “Do you know? He had the nerve to ask the very same thing. Practically offered himself to me. I do regret that curse.” Her face hardened. “I should have worn Elika’s pelt like a coat instead.” She stalked toward Aza, her long caramel hair flowing behind her. “You get his wretched life. And that’s only because I’m feeling generous this evening.” Another bone snapped, and Makeo bit down. “But you best do it quickly, or I fear he will never be the same.”
Ivanora curled her fingers as if to squeeze the life from Makeo. His strangled screams shredded the darkness, and Aza wilted under them. To lose Makeo would be to die herself. She could not lose him too. No matter the cost.
“Fine. I let Conrad go, and you leave us be.” She spread out a hand to encompass the battle behind her. “All of us.”
Ivanora shrugged as if this were her plan all along. “Of course.”
With that, Aza pushed Conrad toward her, and Makeo dropped to the ground with a sharp cry. She rushed toward him, nearly brushing by Ivanora as she practically floated to where Conrad knelt, cursing and holding a hand to his bleeding throat.
Then he started to laugh, a maddened, frenzied sound. “You’ll regret this, you stupid girl.” His smile was blinding white in the dark. Behind him, two hulking cyclogres dragged something away into the blackness. “Just remember, all of this was made possible by you.”
Aza said nothing as she stood over Makeo’s groaning form. No matter what choice she’d made, she would’ve regretted it. But one of them would’ve taken a piece of her soul. She was a killer, yes. But she was a protector first. And if she didn’t protect her friends, well then, she might as well follow Ivanora into the darkness. Makeo… and the rest of them… made everything else bearable. Without them, she’d be lost.
Ivanora took Conrad by the arm and pulled him to his feet. “Come, my dear. That’s enough for one night. I think it’s time we depart.” She looked over her shoulder, her eyes catching on Zephyr’s flames edging closer. “Oh, but there is that one thing I almost forgot. The real reason we’re here. Thank you so much for giving me time to finish the spell.” She lifted her hands, and her green aura rose into the forest. High in the canopy, it shot away like an explosion of shooting stars. The crackling of the forest rose in a great thunderous crashing that ended in a deafening shatter like a thousand mirrors breaking at once.
The still creatures of Carceroc suddenly came to life, surging forward in a great churn, and Aza’s heart went cold. With Carceroc broken, the man-killers were free. At best, a whole host of predators had been released into the world. At worst, a formidable army at the hands of… Aza snapped to Conrad disappearing into the night with Ivanora gliding alongside him. Far, but not too far.
She drew a knife from her belt and let it sing into the air. Just missing, it buried itself into the back of Conrad’s shoulder. He cried out in pain, and the green faded from the creatures’ eyes. She threw the second, and Ivanora lashed out in a flash of light, the knife grazing his cheek instead of burying into his neck.
“Wretched child.” A weak rush of Ivanora’s depleted yanaa swept Aza off her feet. When she looked up again, the magus and the necromancer were gone.
Freed from both their puppeteer and their cage, the Carceroc creatures bellowed with rage and fury, claws and teeth primed to rip through anyone in their path. With her last bit of strength, Aza dragged the now unconscious Makeo into the shelter of a tree trunk as the mankillers, large and small, stampeded toward her brother’s fire.
“To me!” Zephyr yelled as the murderous creatures surrounded the battle’s survivors. Zephyr’s fire billowed in a protective ring around them. But he was too weak. His shoulders shook as he struggled to hold the creatures at bay.
And Aza had even less to give. She pulled a knife from her sheath as something crept toward them in the darkness, tall like a man but with only a gaping mouth for a face. Like something out of the Shadow Plane, but there was no escape here. Staggering to her feet, Aza put herself between Makeo and the mankiller, wheezing with every movement. If they were going to the Mortal Wood, she would be going first.
Sweat stinging her eyes, she lifted her hand to throw the knife, when something hurtled out of the dark. Aza wheeled around to take on the new threat, and steel flashed in front of her face. Her heart seemed to stop as she flinched away, but the blade was not meant for her.
The dagger flew into the creature’s middle, glancing off its strange armored skin. Screeching with fury, the creature backpedaled as the invisible onslaught continued blow after blow after merciless blow.
Her brother’s scream drew her gaze back to his dying fire, where a mob of cyclogres and terraverms closed in. She opened her mouth to scream his name, when an explosion of flames billowed through the darkness, like a sudden dawn hurtling from the earth into the sky.
Aza threw her body over Makeo as a gust of burning air rippled over them. With her skin prickling in the intense heat, and the trees scorching around her, Aza looked up to see Carceroc’s mankillers scattering in a mad stampede to escape the column of molten fire pouring down from the sky that was Kaia Dashul Thane.
The Dragon Heir had arrived.
Aza looked to where a now visible figure in black rested the flat of his obsidian blade on his shoulder, and she broke into a hiccup of hysterical laughter. “Papa,” she whispered. “How did you…?”
In three strides he had her wrapped in a gentle embrace. “I heard you calling me, Aza. I don’t know how you did it, but I heard you.”
“I’m so sorry.” She shook her head, her eyes swimming with tears of relief and pain and sorrow. “I couldn’t do it on my own.”
“Oh, Aza,” he said, his own words choking. “No one ever asked you to.”
And behind him, Silvix’s silvery form nodded with approval.
✽✽✽
The dawn glowed navy blue on the dew-laced meadow, a quiet breeze cleansing the air. Aza shifted Makeo’s bulky form onto a blanket in the long grass. She tended to his smaller injuries while the more seasoned healers addressed the critical cases in the open field of the injured. His breaths were still shallow and weak, and his body was covered with bleeding cuts she couldn’t assess under his thick fur. Groaning, his eyelids fluttered on the brink of consciousness and a jolt of hope raced through her.
“C’mon, Makeo,” she whispered. “I just traded the world for you, so you have to hang in there.”
“Shouldn’t… have done that,” he managed through his wheezes of pain.
She lightly placed her hand on his and wrinkled her nose with a smile. “Well, it was a bit of a hitch, so I had to make sure I could still make good on my bet.”
She swallowed, still trying to wrap her head around what had happened. Hoku had been right, a human would never have had enough yanaa to break the magi’s barrier, but a magus… It hadn’t been the Dolobra cracking the barrier after all. It had been Ivanora. That’s what she’d been researching in Dorinar’s libraries. That’s the great power Seela had sensed, and that had been the third figure standing with Mogens and Conrad in the Shadow Plane. The power that had forced Seela
to trick Aza into releasing the Dolobra. Aza knocked her head against the tree trunk. How had she not made the connections?
“Don’t blame yourself,” Makeo said weakly, eyes still closed. “The Dolobra is dead. Mogens is dead. And you are alive.” Makeo’s paw lightly squeezed hers. “The rest we can fix.”
Aza nodded. It was a hollow victory. But with the Heir killer gone, maybe she would sleep a little better at night. “We are alive.” From across the field, she heard her mother calling her name.
Makeo drew in a rattling breath. “Did you really ask Ivanora to revert the curse?”
“Did you?” Aza returned. “I was just trying to buy time.” She ran her fingers through the fur on his arm. “But when she’s gone, and the curse is broken, I’ll miss this side of you.”
“When she’s gone?”
Aza nodded. “I don’t know how to kill a magus, Keo, but if she’s trying to revive Idriel, you can bet your hide I’ll figure it out.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Not Alone
Aza sat beside Makeo’s bed in the now mostly empty Carceroc. The flickering lantern light glowed over Makeo’s curled form, his breath huffing evenly from his bandaged body. Outside the cabin in the early night, the Maldibor gathered for the dark moon, wisps of music and laughter drifting on the breeze. Her eyes wandered to where her parents laughed with Tekoa by the fire. Her father’s arm wound tightly around her mother’s shoulders, and Shadmundar perched on a nearby stump, his black fur finally glossy and thick again.
For a moment, she flashed back to telling her parents the whole ghastly story on the edge of the still-bloody battleground. From abandoning Zephyr, to freeing the Dolobra, to killing Mogens on the Shadow Plane. Aza had expected heated words and a harsh rebuke, but instead her mother had just wrapped her arms tightly around Aza.
“Thank you, Aza, for doing what I couldn’t,” she whispered. “I knew the moment he was gone, like a knife had been finally pulled from my chest.” Her brown eyes had gleamed as they’d met Aza’s. “At least one nightmare has ended.”
Idriel's Children (Odriel's Heirs Book 2) Page 24
