by Iris Walker
“The real question is this…” Fausta purred, letting the tip of the sword trail across the grass behind her as she circled Robin with elegant steps. “Do I kill you quickly, or do I have fun with it?”
“You can try whatever you want,” Robin said sharply.
Fausta’s wicked smile deepened, just as she lunged forward with a lightning fast movement, gripping Robin’s shoulder. Yes, vampires were fast, and in fact, they moved so fast that Robin couldn’t even see them, but somehow, Robin could still track their movements. She thrust her hand out, gripping Fausta’s wrist as hard as she could. Just a sip of energy came from the bonfire contained within Fausta, but even that small amount was enough to burn through Robin with the force of an explosion. She ground her jaw together and forced herself to make eye contact with Fausta’s enraged gaze.
Because of that, Robin was too distracted to see the other hand. In fact, she didn’t see that hand at all. The next thing Robin knew, she was flying, and it would have been nice, except that it had started with a massive blow to her ribcage. The ground left her as her side screamed in pain, the world around her a dizzying frenzy of dark sky and grass.
Thunk.
She heard something crack, felt her body snap like a twig, before she crashed to the ground in a mottled heap. There was blood in her mouth, and her vision was swimming. Get up, a voice called to her. You have to get up. It was her own. She remembered Fausta, and she remembered the sword, and… she began to feel the dull ache, the painful throb race across her whole body. She couldn’t move, couldn’t walk, but she cracked her eyes open, and saw Fausta’s figure standing triumphantly, addressing Darian and his people with grandiose gestures of victory. Robin’s eyes turned to Fausta’s own ranks, cheering, and she reached her fingertips towards the vampires, only an inch before the pain in her side flared like a wildfire. A groan escaped her lips and she focused on the soldiers, reaching out to one of them, drawing him closer. Come to me, Robin thought, a reflex, born out of a deep corner of her mind.
The soldier turned slowly, dazed in confusion, and stumbled forward. His steps grew frenzied, manic as he ran, appearing before Robin in an instant. She didn’t even need to touch him to drain the blood sucker like a soda can. He collapsed, writhing on the ground, just as a blaze of golden energy shot through Robin and she lit up like a damn firework. She felt the healing energy suffuse to every corner of her body. The ache was burned away, her broken spine woven back together in an explosive instant. She rose, tall and strong and glowing, her red birthmarks boiling with power. Fausta turned at the sight, her expression a mixture of confusion and rage.
“Try again,” Robin said, spitting out the coppery blood and deepening her stance. A roar of applause sounded out from Darian’s people and she grinned, just as the vampire took another swing of her sword. This one hit Robin with exactly as much force but she was able to understand what had happened. She was taking crushing blows, yes, but it was Chadwick’s armor that had stopped her from being lobbed in two. She flew through the air, a mess of flailing limbs, until she collided with the grass and she felt her leg snap with a gruesome shudder. But Fausta had made a mistake, because she’d vaulted Robin towards her troops. Robin bit down her scream and yanked the life out of the nearest vampire, watching as they collapsed to the ground and she staggered to her feet once more, pulses of light soaring through her birthmarks. Fausta let out a cry of anger, and that would have been the highlight of Robin’s fight if she hadn’t noticed something even more valuable. Most of Fausta’s foot soldiers now stared at her with paralyzed fear. Her intimidation had worked. “Third time’s a charm!” Robin threw back, smiling even wider and raising both arms.
Fausta came lumbering towards her with a rage that set Robin’s teeth on edge, but something else drew her attention in the midst of the terror. A pulse of heat, behind her, zooming up. Robin whipped around and stopped the vampire with a single hand, crushing him with her abilities. Fire burned through her, and she shook with the burst of power, the burst of heat. Too hot, she thought in a panic. Fausta grinned, striding towards her just as an impact jostled her shoulder. Robin’s eyebrows drew together as she saw a silver harpoon jutting out of the vampire queen, pain and anger clear on her face. As quickly as it had driven through Fausta’s shoulder, the vampire was yanked back, and Robin glimpsed the silver chain coming from Lucidia’s hand as her sister dragged Fausta with a violent jolt. The gauntlets, Robin thought with a grin. She sprinted for Ezra and Zane, not wasting any time as Lucidia attacked the vampire with ferocious intensity. The two vampires on her side appeared in an instant and Robin fell to her knees, gasping for breath.
“Are you okay?” Ezra asked, kneeling next to her.
“It’s too much,” she groaned, holding her hands out. “Both of you.”
The vampires took her hands, and she released the wave of burning fire within her. Ezra and Zane stiffened, staggering back just as the influx of power shone through their pale skin. They were glowing. A wide grin spread on Zane’s face as he shook his hands like there were ants crawling on them. “Holy hell,” he grinned.
Ezra rose slowly, a fierce and terrifying being from the extra strength. Robin’s eyes widened as he zoomed towards Fausta.
Here goes nothing, Robin thought, standing and holding her fist straight in the air, signaling to Chadwick that she was about to rain hell on the entire place. She closed her eyes and let her mind soar across Fausta’s troops, calling to every one of them and letting that manic desire pour through them. She could feel their agitation, feel their crawling heartbeats surge, and then she felt each one of the weaker soldiers as they staggered out of their formations to come get a piece of her. Like an ocean of frenzied zombies, they poured out of their spots and moved with instinctual fervor. A smile curved on Robin’s lips as she watched them stagger towards her, watched Fausta’s cry for them to hold the line, just as she drove her fist down and watched as the magical barrier dissolved.
Another war cry rang across the field and Darian’s troops poured out of the castle. It was like watching something from Lord of the Rings, except that she was right in the middle of it. Her eyes widened as the lines of soldiers closed in, vampires clashing with vicious wolves, bodies tumbling in a deadly dance of muscle and fury. Gunshots cracked out across the field, pinging against their newly forged armor. Robin sunk back, closer to the tree line, holding onto the massive wave of influence she was pouring into the enemy vampires, straining with every ounce of concentration it took to not affect her own side’s soldiers. “Robin!” Reykon roared. She broke her trance, glancing to him to see a show of fear on his face, eyes wide as he struggled to fight a massive wolf, circling him. “Behind you!”
Just as the wolf pounced on Reykon, she felt a pulse of energy and a jarring impact in her shoulder. She skidded, digging into the grass as her body crashed to the ground. When she could see again, she found herself face to face with an old, terrifyingly steely vampire, his hand clawing around her throat and lifting her into the air. Pain roared out from her neck, his grip tightening even more until she slammed her palm onto him and took a draw of his strength. He released her and Robin staggered to her feet, locking eyes with him. His gaze was still burning red, a slim smile curving on his lips as he advanced once more. Robin tensed, ready to fight. Over his shoulder, she caught a glimpse of Fausta’s troops, who had now recovered from their pandemonium, scrambling to reform their ranks as Darian’s units closed in, flanking them off and holding their own.
The vampire general slammed into her, sending her cracking against a tree just as she pulled another burst of energy from him to compensate for the injury. Even with that, she was still winded. She wasn’t sure how much more of it she could take, without having the other vampire allies next to her. Robin’s heart was pounding, her attention speared by the chaotic battlefield and the menacing vampire general coming straight for her. She reached her hand to the holster on the small of her back, and gripped the emergency pistol she’d tucked in.
Three shots cracked out in succession, lodging in the vampire’s torso. It didn’t even jar him, but she’d achieved her aim; the bloodsucker was distracted enough to miss her move. She vaulted forward and pulled out as much energy as she could all at once. It left her shaking, burning from the inside out, and she sprinted towards the fight, leaving the vampire weakened, straining to get up.
She dodged body after body, nearing the confluence of Darian and Fausta’s troops. “Fausta!” she yelled, anger roaring inside of her. The vampire queen turned to see Robin glowing with strength, striding towards her. “With every soldier you throw at me, I gain more power!” Robin called out, passing one of Darian’s generals. She brushed her hand on the vampire’s arm and sent a rush of energy through him, causing him to stiffen, flexing his fingers with the burst of strength. “Every enemy that you send, we grow stronger!” she touched another general, and a soldier, running her fingers along the ranks and dispersing the power. It shot through Darian’s vampires like a burst of rejuvenation, and they grew more confident, more daring. “Every defeat you bring is a victory for us!” she yelled, sending more energy out as Darian’s troops reached towards her, crowding her, trying to get a bit of the power. She gave as much as she could, the glow subsiding before she stood at the front of the group, staring daggers at the wicked queen.
But Fausta wasn’t nearly as shaken as Robin had expected her to be. Instead of fear and panic, the queen’s sinister smile only deepened. “What you mistake for weakness, dear girl, is simple casualty. True weakness is letting those casualties get in the way of your triumph.” She turned to Darian, her army parting before her, and Fausta aimed the tip of the broadsword at Darian’s head. “You, Darian, have grown weak. You beg for peace, you scrabble to protect the lives of the innocents contained within your walls. You put their wellbeing over the respect and flourishment of your own race. For these crimes, you will hear their screams as I bring your empire down upon them.”
Robin’s eyebrows pulled together as Fausta brought out a small black object from her cloak and flipped up the cover. Robin narrowed her eyes, dodging another fallen soldier as the fight raged around them, gunshots pealing through the wind. It wasn’t until Fausta pressed the button that Robin realized it was a detonator.
“NO!” Robin shrieked, just as the first explosion rumbled through the castle, shaking the ground underneath her feet and sending an inferno whipping across the field. Another explosion rocked them, and then more, so many more, as the entire back half of the castle crashed down in an avalanche of stone and rubble.
Reykon
He slammed his fist into another vampire’s jaw, using the raw magical power to fuel each bone-crushing blow. The vampire crumbled underneath him, his body trampled in the battle. Reykon was just looking for another enemy when he felt the entire world quake. A blast of wind and glass smacked into him, knocking everybody down. When his eyes centered on the remains of the castle, a stab of guilt drove through him. They’d managed to funnel out half of the refugees, but that meant there were still half of them inside, and they’d just been crushed, torn apart, left buried alive in the rubble. His fists clenched as he let out a roar of fury, scrambling to his feet. Ezra fought next to him, and Lucidia was lost somewhere in the battle. From his point on the hillside, he could see Fausta’s waves of wolves and vampires, clashing with Darian’s troops. He immediately looked to the castle, to where Fausta had attacked. But in the midst of all the chaos, he knew something was wrong. He heard Reed’s voice, above all of it, echoing in his mind. You can’t let them drive your decisions. They’re trying to get in your head, to get you on the defensive.
“Think, Reykon,” he growled, smacking his head. Another vampire lunged towards him and he cut the fool down with one strike of his golden sword. It didn’t make sense. You only blew up part of a massively fortified stronghold if you were trying to get into it; that was how Fausta attacked the outer wall. But the back of the castle wasn’t nearly as strong as the front walls were. If there were any part to implode, it would have been the thickest points in the walls of the front entrance. What could she possibly gain from destroying the weakest section of the castle?
In a horrifying instant, it dawned on him: they’d prepared for a siege of the castle. Darian and his generals had discussed it for hours, days, in the war room. It was no secret that House Albus was famous for its defensive advantage; if it came to a retreat, Darian and their whole force would pull back into the castle, where they could defend it for months, unless, of course, it had been leveled to the ground. In that case, they would have nowhere to fall back on, or they would have to wade through piles of rubble to make it to safety. Reykon’s mind whirred as he searched the field, amassing her numbers in his head. He’d known something was off at the start of the battle; even before, walking through the woods and seeing that Fausta’s war camps were empty. He’d wondered where the rest of her soldiers had gone, but simply thought that they were on the field. But she didn’t even have half of her army here. Reykon looked for the rest of Darian’s troops, calculating the numbers. They’d brought half to the field, and the remaining half were… his eyes slipped back to the wreckage.
“Damnit,” he hissed, cutting down another vampire with renewed rage. She’d thought it out, perfectly, and she planned to cut them off from front and back. Reykon knew that a quarter of their troops had been manning the front of the castle, keeping watch, but no doubt the explosion had either scattered or shaken them. They probably thought the threat came from the rear, where the explosions had taken place. Someone had to warn them that half of Fausta’s army was approaching, planning something else, and someone had to do it quickly. Otherwise, there’d be no chance of recovery.
Reykon drew back, scanning the pandemonium for a group of vampires. Fausta’s forces had cut them off, and now swarmed them in droves, muddying the waters. Nobody else had caught on. He ran for the nearest guard unit, locked in tight formation, battling Fausta’s wolves. “We have to go!” Reykon yelled at them, gesturing to the castle. “They’re attacking from the front!”
The vampire shouting orders gave Reykon a searing glare. “Are you crazy? Look around.”
“It’s a sham,” he called, gesturing to the front. “We need to reinforce the others.”
“The generals have said nothing about pulling back!” the vampire contested, cutting down another wolf.
“Who’s your leader?” Reykon shouted, just before another vampire knocking into his shoulder.
“Our head was cut down, now I’m in charge.”
A simple glance at the uniform told Reykon that he outranked the vampire. “I’m requisitioning your unit to-”
“We’re not taking orders from a strongblood without a general’s say so!” the soldier shouted, barking another order.
That was the last straw. Reykon growled in frustration, charging forward and gripping the vampire by his collar. He yanked backward and called on his raw magical power, laying his fist into the soldier’s jaw hard enough to crush bone, sending the fool flying head-first into the scuffle. The rest of his unit now stared at Reykon with expressions somewhere between confusion and fury, but Reykon didn’t give them an inch to work with. “I am taking control of this unit!” he barked. “If anybody else has a problem with it, go fuck off to your generals. The rest of you, with me, now!”
The unit snapped into attention, and Reykon charged up the hill. The crumbling remains of the castle loomed ahead, dust clouds and broken rubble clumped across the field in massive piles. “In here!” Reykon commanded, breaking through one of the walls of debris. He could see the dark interior of the castle, wrecked and mangled, thick ash coating the air. His unit followed behind him in tight formation, and Reykon readied his weapon, gripping his brass knuckles tightly. His golden sword gleamed in the low light, elongating the reflection of the castle’s exposed bones. As Reykon stepped forward, he couldn’t help but let his gaze shift downward. How many refugees were trapped underneath
the rubble? He shook the thought and focused.
It was quiet; eerily quiet.
He was whipped back into the 40 Day’s Siege, when it was just him and Reed, silently infiltrating the castle. His brow pulled together as the memories assaulted him, of that fateful night when his own lapse in judgement had cost Reed his life. Low fires flickered across the castle as he pushed through, entering the space that used to contain the beautiful scrolling staircases that Robin had gasped at. Now, only bits and pieces remained, barely discernable. Reykon inched forward, scowling. It was completely silent. Either Fausta’s troops hadn’t made it to this section yet or they hadn’t attacked. Reykon pulled up the schematics in his mind and thought about their initial battle plan. “What section was Nye’s unit in?” he asked.
A vampire leaned forward from behind him. “By the second guard tower,” he whispered, peering around the space, looking for any sign of attack.
“Hear anything?”
“No vampires,” another soldier said. “Or wolves. Just…” his eyes shifted to the piles of wreckage, and Reykon nodded swiftly, a deep scowl forming on his face.
“We’ll take the south passageway over and connect with Nye’s people.” Silence confirmed his orders, and he pushed forward, coming through each passageway, taking each corner with renewed caution. It seemed like hours until they’d made it to the large hallway at the front of the castle, connecting to the grand foyer, which was still intact, in all its glory. Reykon wasted no time looking at the beautiful staircases or the dark chandelier. His eyes were focused on the tense vampires, standing in formation. Some of the higher-ranking soldiers milled around, talking in hushed tones. Reykon charged up to them. “Are you Nye’s Unit?”
