Battle Dawn: Book Three of the Chronicles of Arden

by Shiriluna Nott

Limestone shattered everywhere. The entire wall shook, buckling against the force of the blow. Enemy archers hollered in panic as the walkway shuddered beneath their feet. Even the Zhal’mohr paused and turned its head toward the commotion.

  And then the wall caved and came crashing down.

  “Go!” Joel yelled.

  Zandi spurred the gelding, and the horse took off running. Joel could feel debris pelting him, stabs of agony against his back and shoulders. His ears roared with the sound of falling stone. He tucked his head and held on for dear life.

  If this is our end, let it be the end for the beast as well.

  He slammed his eyes shut. Whatever happened now was beyond his control.

  The ground stopped shaking. The rumble ceased. The air grew deathly silent.

  Zandi gave the reins a pull, and the gelding lurched to a stop.

  “Daya!” he exclaimed. “Look!”

  Chest heaving, Joel opened one eye and then the other. He dared peer over his shoulder.

  A cloud of dust reached into the sky where there had been stone only moments before. Sunlight filtered through the haze, illuminating the ruins left behind. A large section of the wall was gone completely—crumbled into a vast heap. And one of the Zhal’mohr’s limbs protruded from within the rubble, limp and unmoving.

  “It’s—it’s dead,” Zandi whispered.

  Someone began cheering.

  Zandi’s eyes widened. He cried joyously. A smile broke across his parched lips even as a tear slipped down his cheek. Joel squinted against the clearing dust, and then he smiled too. There, standing next to the wreckage, were Kezra, Nage, and Gara.

  Gib took an unwilling step back as he watched Natori face the monster. He wanted to run. He wanted to run and never stop, but the firm press of Oathbinder’s handle against his palm reminded him why he must stay.

  Natori let out a vicious war cry. The sound rattled Gib to the bones. The Blessed Mage was usually so reserved. But now she held nothing back as her ethereal sword swung through the air. Flanked by the loyal guardsmen, she ran straight at the beast. Fire blazed in her violet eyes as fiercely as the runes along the enchanted blade. She gripped the steel hilt with both hands. Tensed her shoulders. Heaved the sword overhead.

  And then the blade went dark.

  Natori’s face twisted with surprise as the weapon’s magic failed, leaving her with a metal husk.

  The monster swiped a claw. Natori recovered from her shock in time to swerve aside, but the nearest guardsman was knocked off his feet. Gib heard the clang of sharp talons bashing against the man’s breastplate. A massive limb slammed the guardsman into the dirt, and the crack of shattering bones hissed in Gib’s ears.

  “Hasain!” Tular snarled. “Use your magic!”

  Hasain seemed to be in some kind of panic-induced stupor, but at the sound of his brother’s command, the Radek lord narrowed his eyes. Tendrils of lightning crackled from his outstretched hands and lashed at the beast. The magic sizzled and died before it even touched the monster’s scaly hide.

  Hasain wailed. “It leeched my magic! The monster’s shield absorbs it!”

  Gib’s heart felt like it might pound straight out of his chest. Leeching magic? An absorption shield? Did that mean Natori’s magic was useless as well?

  Natori slammed her blade against the beast’s bony skull, leaving a gash along the snout. The monster growled, but the blow did nothing to discourage it. Powerful jaws snapped the air. Natori jumped back, already preparing another strike.

  A second guardsman moaned as dagger-length teeth closed over his arm. The monster thrashed its head from side to side until the limb ripped free of the man’s torso in a gush of blood and shredded flesh.

  Deegan cried in horror. “We have to help—”

  Gib started to lurch forward, but Natori commanded them back. “No, Prince! Stay with your protectors!”

  Another sentinel fell. And another.

  Daya, help us!

  Natori and the two remaining guardsmen formed a circle around their adversary. Their footsteps were light as they darted in a lethal dance with death. The beast shifted this way and that, seeming unsure which target to attack. A serpentine tail whipped across the sand with agitation.

  “Aim for the eyes and throat!” Natori hissed. “We work together!”

  For a precious reprieve, neither monster nor men moved. But then one of the guardsmen locked eyes with Natori. She gave him a knowing nod. Saying nothing, the sentinel rushed the monster, slashing at its throat with his broadsword. The beast’s head tilted down as it closed over the guard’s helm—and that’s when Natori struck.

  She thrust forward, a flash of deadly silver armor, and her blade sunk deep into the beast’s eye socket. With a final roar, the monster slumped to the ground, limbs twitching as death shrouded its one enduring eye.

  Natori pulled her blade free with a huff. A deranged noise—something between a sob and a cheer—escaped Deegan’s gaping mouth. Hasain and Tular both sighed collectively, and some of the tension rolled off their shoulders. Even Morathi’s two dogs whooped. Gib felt like he might vomit at the sight of so much blood and the mangled bodies of the royal guardsmen. But the monster was dead. Natori had slain the beast even without her magic. Perhaps the rumors at court held some truth to them after all: the Blessed Mages really were immortal.

  Natori turned a victorious smile onto Deegan’s party—

  —and was slammed from behind by a second beast.

  “No!” Gib screamed as he watched Natori’s limp form crash to the ground. Her sword flew from her hands and skidded across the sand. She lay motionless, dazed from the savage blow to her head. The monster hissed and lumbered toward her.

  Get up! Gib screeched silently. Please get up!

  The last remaining guardsman jumped to Natori’s defense, clanging sword against shield to draw the beast’s attention and give the Blessed Mage precious moments to wake.

  Readying his weapon, Tular pointed angrily at Morathi’s men. “We must help the mage! You two distract the beast from the left, I’ll attack from—”

  “We didn’t sign up for this!” one of them gasped. Before Tular could finish giving the command, they both threw down their shields and bolted.

  “Cowards!” Tular spat.

  The beast had the royal guardsman pinned on his back. He bashed the blunt edge of his shield against the monster’s muzzle and aimed his sword at the closest eye. But the beast’s claws pressed down on his silver chest plate, squeezing the life out of him. He screamed in agony as talons sunk into the weak points between his armor.

  Tular shucked his cuirass off even as he marched forward.

  “W–what are you doing?” Deegan asked, grabbing for Tular’s arm. “She told us to stay—”

  “Run, Deegan. Get as far away from here as you can.”

  Gib gaped as Tular discarded his breastplate. Why was he stripping off his armor? Had he lost his mind?

  “No,” Deegan stammered. “I’ll stand with you!”

  Tular shook Deegan’s hand away. “Listen, I’ll buy you some time. Hasain and Gib will stay with you.”

  “Tular, no,” Hasain pleaded, face white as death. “The cloaking magic will fail. You’ll be revealed—”

  “It doesn’t matter now! There’s no one left alive to see, and Deegan must survive!”

  Natori had risen to her knees and was crawling toward her sword. The monster was ripping strings of flesh from the guardsman’s corpse, but its lidless eyes were already trained on the Blessed Mage. It was going to attack any moment—

  “Go!” Tular growled, shoving Deegan at Gib. “Get the prince out of here!”

  Natori stumbled to her feet. Blood trailed from a gash on her forehead and into her eyes. She reached for her blade—

  The beast’s tail whipped around, catching her thighs, and sent her spiraling for a second time. Her head jerked back as it cracked against the hard ground, and this time she didn’t get up.

  Tular howled a
nd sprang toward the struggle.

  Gib started to give chase—despite the order he’d been given to flee—but stopped dead in his tracks when Tular leapt off the ground and—flew.

  Oh gods.

  He flew.

  Scarlet wings burst free from beneath Tular’s tunic, fanning wide as he sailed into the air. Whetted talons capped the ends of each digit on his hands and feet alike, and a long, feathered tail spanned behind him like a rudder, sending dust scattering in every direction.

  Gib’s heart clambered to his throat. He gasped and stumbled back, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Chhaya’s bane, what was he?

  “Tular, no!” Deegan screamed as he pushed past Gib. The prince ran into the clearing, clutching his rapier in one hand and waving his other wildly. “Tular! Tular, come back!”

  Tular wasn’t listening. He gave his—wings—a handful of powerful thrusts, rapidly gaining altitude, only to pin them tight to his body a moment later. And then he plummeted from the sky—no, dove. He swooped with dangerous intent. Tall horns nestled just above his brow gleamed in the morning light, and feathered hackles fanned around his twisted face. Letting out a shriek of fury, he plunged onto the beast’s back.

  This was a nightmare. It had to be.

  A wave of panic rolled over Hasain as the magic Tular relied upon to shroud his identity was sapped by the beast’s leeching shield, leaving his true self exposed and bare.

  “Shit,” Hasain spat to the wind. Dread reared in his chest, seizing him by the throat. He couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t happening! He had to be trapped inside a terrible nightmare. None of this could actually be real.

  Yet there it was. The devastation spread before his eyes, and it wasn’t going away, no matter how many times he closed and reopened his eyes.

  “You should have called on me sooner,” Leviticus crooned. “Just look at this mess that could have been prevented.”

  Hasain rallied enough strength to shout a warning at his brother. “Tular! Get back! Your cloaking spell—”

  But Tular seemed beyond caring. Hasain knew the look in his brother’s crazed eyes. He was prepared to defend the royal family—at any cost.

  In a flurry of crimson feathers, Tular launched himself onto the beast’s back, goring his claws into the thick hide. The beast howled with rage and whipped back and forth, trying to dislodge its attacker. Jagged teeth snapped shut just shy of Tular’s tail feathers. His wings beat frantically as he struggled to stay balanced atop the thrashing creature.

  Deegan’s hysterical voice rose above the fray. He was screaming Tular’s name—and running at the beast. Gib gave chase, yelling for Hasain to help, but Hasain couldn’t follow. He couldn’t even lift his feet. His legs were stone pillars, frozen by fear.

  In desperation, Hasain held out a trembling hand, as if he could call his brothers back with the gesture alone.

  “Deegan, no…” he whimpered.

  The demon’s hideous cackle echoed inside Hasain’s head. “Pathetic.”

  The monster shrieked, or it might have been Tular. Hasain wasn’t sure. He sobbed as Tular was knocked to the ground, his wings pinned uselessly beneath him. One of the monster’s giant claws slammed over Tular’s chest.

  “No!” Deegan screamed, lunging with his rapier. Within the beast’s shadow, the young prince had never looked so small.

  “You really are going to let them die, aren’t you?”

  Tears streamed down Hasain’s face.

  I can’t. I can’t. Father said not to listen—

  Saliva trickled from the beast’s open maw as blood-stained teeth came within an inch of Tular’s face. He writhed to no avail. Sunlight gleamed in his watering eyes. The monster’s claw pressed against Tular’s heaving chest, and he screeched in agony as his body was slowly crushed.

  Hasain’s resolve shattered.

  “No!” he gasped. “Don’t let them die! Leviticus, save my family!”

  Gib squared his shoulders, preparing to swing Oathbinder, and preparing to die. He deserved as much for not fulfilling his promise. He’d sworn to keep Deegan safe and failed. Once the beast was done with Tular, it would certainly turn next onto Arden’s heir. And then Hasain. The Radek bloodline was finished. They were all doomed.

  Gib flung his blade high. At least he could find some comfort knowing he would die fighting for what he believed in.

  For Arden. I’m sorry I couldn’t serve you better. I’m sorry I failed. Goddesses, keep my brothers safe.

  The beast lurched back before Oathbinder could strike. Tular inhaled sharply, gasping for air as the massive weight lifted off his torso, and Gib’s mouth fell open in shock. The monster was reeling away from them. It was retreating!

  An infuriated roar rippled out from between the monster’s splayed jaws as it raked talons across its own snout and eyes. It scratched so savagely droplets of black blood were pooling on its hide. The hisses and snarls it elicited were desperate, as though the beast were under attack. But it wasn’t. No one was left alive to attack it.

  The ground thundered as the monster lumbered across the clearing. Grabbing Deegan by the arm, Gib threw both the prince and himself to the ground to avoid getting swiped by the beast’s thrashing tail. Deegan let out a soft whimper and closed his eyes. Gib refused to shut his own, even as gritty sand lashed his cheeks. His heart pounded within his chest.

  The monster let out one final, mournful howl before it skulked away, fleeing toward Tahir’s distant wall and trampling over the dead as it went.

  Corpses. The bodies of fallen Ardenian soldiers.

  The dead littered the sand. And Gib could see scores of beasts still attacking the army. A horn blared from within the mass of soldiers and monsters. Someone was sounding a retreat. Bile bubbled in Gib’s throat. They had to get Deegan to safety—somehow. But where was there to go?

  Deegan disentangled himself from Gib’s arms and ran to where Tular lay sprawled in a heap of red feathers. The prince collapsed onto his knees beside the fallen warrior and helped him sit up. Gib’s guts twisted, but he tried not to gawk openly at Tular. What was he? Some kind of Otherfolk? A changeling? Gib edged closer, keeping a cautious grip on his sword.

  “What happened to it?” Tular snarled, his eyes darting around, no doubt in search of the beast. The long feathers crowning his skull stood on end.

  Deegan’s voice quivered. “Something must have scared it off.”

  “Scared it off? What the hell could scare that thing off?”

  “I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. It’s gone for now. Tular, you have to shift.”

  Tular groaned groggily, touching the outside of his tattered tunic. “My ribs—it hurts to breathe.”

  “You’re injured. You might have broken something.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “You have to shift,” Deegan pleaded, glancing up at Gib. “Before anyone else sees you. Hurry, I can hear the retreat horn blowing. Please, Tular.”

  Tular’s pale face was still racked with pain, but he gave a weak nod. And then—just like that—the wings and tail vanished, the horns and claws disappeared, and the long tufts of feathers capping his head yielded to tresses of sunset hair. The Tular Gib knew had returned.

  Gib’s eyes were so wide they might pop out of their sockets. Never in his life had he seen something so bewildering.

  Tular clutched his sides as Deegan helped him stand. “Never a word, Nemesio. Not to anyone.”

  Gib tried to contain his ragged breaths. “What’s one more secret, right?”

  For a tense moment, Tular speared Gib with shrewd eyes, but then his somber gaze moved elsewhere. He exhaled sharply, and his frown deepened. “Natori.”

  Oh no.

  Gib craned his head, following Tular’s scrutiny to a nearby dune. There, at the sandy base, slumped the Blessed Mage’s unmoving form. Hasain already knelt beside her, checking for signs of life. His face was grim and blanched of all color.

  Deegan gasped, gripping Tular’s arm. “I
s—is she—?”

  Gib thought he might retch.

  Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.

  “Hasain?” Tular asked. “Is she—dead?”

  Hasain didn’t reply as he took up one of Natori’s hands, but as Gib stumbled closer, he saw her eyes fluttering. Relief tempered the dread in Gib’s heart. “She’s alive. Just unconscious.” He noted the gash on her face. “She’s injured. She needs a Healer, fast.”

  A tear slipped down Deegan’s cheek. “Why? Why did she and the guardsmen and—all of you—why do you risk your lives for me?”

  Tular squeezed the prince’s forearm. The simple movement made Tular cringe, but he didn’t retract his hand. “Because some things are worth dying for, Deegan. That’s why.”

  “My father was worth dying for,” Deegan replied, hastily wiping his tears. “I’m just a spoiled brat who was lucky enough to be born a prince.”

  Hasain hadn’t said anything in such a long time Gib had almost forgotten the Radek lord was there at all. He spoke now, in a voice so hollow it didn’t even sound like himself. “You’re my brother. You’re worth any sacrifice.”

  No sooner had Hasain finished the sentence did the entire world begin to shake under their feet.

  “Kezra!”

  Kezra had never been more grateful to hear her brother’s voice nor felt such sweet relief to see him, alive and riding toward her.

  Zandi slipped from the saddle even before the horse stopped moving and came running at her on foot. Tangled strands of hair flew around his ears and neck, and his turban was missing entirely. Dust was enfolded in his tousled robes, yet somehow the fabric retained its pristine glow.

  Mages and their trickery—

  Kezra shook her head. It didn’t matter. He was unharmed. That was all she cared about in this moment.

  Jumping from Epona’s back, Kezra clambered over the rubble of Tahir’s wall. She met her brother with open arms. “I swear, some damn deity must be watching out for your sorry arse.”

  “Kezra.” Zandi gasped again, as if he didn’t quite believe she was actually standing there. “You’re alive.”