I’m paralyzed, my legs unsteady beneath me. Because I know what the true target of the Vu Trin invasion is.
Me.
I turn to Lukas to find him staring at the scene with a stunned look, and when he turns to me, his eyes flash with a momentary devastation.
His whole family.
“Lukas...your family...”
“Stop.” His expression goes hard, the word silencing me. “We just got the diversion we needed,” he rasps. He glances back at the huge fire that has engulfed his family’s estate. “And I don’t think the Vu Trin saw us.”
There’s another explosion at the edge of the churning blue flame, but this conflagration is gray flame that spits silver.
Bolts of silver-gray fire spear out of the strange conflagration toward the Vu Trin and their dragons, rapidly killing them, as a smoke-darkened figure emerges from the compact silver-gray inferno. His wand is raised as he slashes out shadowy fire, the Vu Trin’s runic weapons seeming powerless against him.
A fresh terror bolts through me.
Marcus Vogel.
Sweet Ancient One, no.
Impossibly, incredibly, and horrifically...he’s survived.
Marcus Vogel turns and scans the smoldering landscape, the many Mages and Vu Trin and dragons now lying dead, strewn all over the gardens.
Vogel raises his eyes toward the elevated wilds where we’re hidden as he lifts his Shadow Wand.
Lukas wrenches me to the ground and throws himself on top of me, gripping my head with both hands as he brings his mouth down hard on mine and forces all his affinity power into my shield in one overpowering surge.
I clutch Lukas’s arms, pulling on his power as it spirals tightly around my lines and forces every last shred of my magic down behind it.
I gasp as I’m hit by a blast of Vogel’s Shadow power from clear across the grounds and through the wilds, my whole body shuddering against Lukas’s as Vogel’s magic streams over us like an inescapable tide and grays out my vision, even as Lukas sends magic through me and holds on tight.
And then...the tide of Shadow magic passes over us and streams into the wilds, fanning out in a continued search for me as Shadow fire roars and the whole world changes.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ESCAPE
ELLOREN GREY
Sixth Month
Valgard, Gardneria
I cling to Lukas’s hand as we rush uphill through the woods, sticks and brush scraping against my cheeks and arms, desperation fueling my steps. The whoosh of wingbeats sounds from above, and I duck as three sapphire forms shoot by overhead.
More Vu Trin dragons!
Lukas adjusts our course, and I do my best to push through a painful stitch in my side, my lungs feeling like they’re full of glass shards as we run, the red beadwork on my skirts repeatedly catching on brush and tearing away whenever I yank up my hem to free my steps.
The roar of dragons and the boom of explosions coming from the direction of Valgard’s ports spike my pulse, my heart attempting to punch a hole through my chest as we pick up our pace and Lukas meets my panic-stricken gaze with a steely look of his own.
We rush over a road that cuts through the forest, then sprint back into the wrathful trees as another explosion sounds. I keep hold of Lukas’s hand as we run up a wooded hill, then down a steep embankment where I briefly lose my footing and Lukas catches me as I start to skid.
After righting my balance, we dart toward a hemlock grove, and I startle and slide to an abrupt stop alongside Lukas as a hooded Gardnerian figure emerges from the shadows of the towering evergreen trees—a young man with a severe, elegant face, blistering urgency in his pine green eyes.
Thierren!
He motions us forward, and we follow him into the hemlock shadows and around a large, rocky outcropping to find three horses saddled and ready to go.
Mahogany-haired Malthorin Thoroughbreds. Built for sustained speed. Travel packs hanging from their sides.
Thierren tosses Lukas a stuffed sack, which Lukas deftly catches then pulls clothing out of and hands a simple black woolen tunic and dark riding skirt to me.
“Where are Sparrow and Effrey?” I ask. “And Aislinn?”
“Safe,” Thierren reassures me.
“Put these on,” Lukas directs as I take the clothing. He gestures with a sweep of his finger along his face. “Wipe off all that face paint. And get rid of the jewelry.”
“What happened?” Thierren asks Lukas, seeming rattled, as Lukas throws off his own silk red-embroidered tunic. There are weapons strapped all over Lukas’s body. More weapons than he had on last night, most of them Noi rune blades marked with glowing sapphire runes on their hilts. And his extra wand with Noi runes worked into its ebony wood is sheathed against his side.
“The Vu Trin took out the entire estate,” Lukas harshly recounts to Thierren, his jaw set as he pulls on a plain woolen tunic.
I turn away from them, yank off my Sealing tunic, hastily throw on the new one, and wipe off my makeup with the discarded tunic as another explosion sounds in the direction of the city.
“Vogel survived,” Lukas says to Thierren, giving him a quick, portentous look as I tug on the long riding skirt under my Sealing skirt. “He knows what Elloren is. And he suspects she’s alive. He sent out a search spell.”
Thierren stills, as if he’s been physically hit with this information. “During the day?” he asks, low and weighted as I tug off the Sealing skirt.
Lukas nods, his returning look one of such grave import that it spikes my urgency as I quickly remove my glittering ruby earrings, necklace, and hair decorations and shove them into my pocket.
“We need to get Elloren out of the Western Realm.” Lukas draws the rune-marked wand from its sheath strapped just under his tunic’s side. “And fast.” He turns to me, his eyes blazing with purpose. “Pull up your sleeve, Elloren,” he says, his tone brooking no argument. “I’m going to create another shield just under your skin, to make it difficult for the Vu Trin to track you, as well.”
Wordlessly I draw back my sleeve and hold out my forearm to him.
Lukas presses the rune wand’s tip to my skin and murmurs a spell in the back of his throat.
A stream of thready blue lightning flows from his wand’s tip and forks around my wrist and up my arm, tickling my skin as the thin, forking veins crackle over me. Then Lukas goes to one knee and lowers his wand to the forest floor, angling his head down as he murmurs another spell.
Another flash of blue lines courses from his wand’s tip. They fan out over the forest floor in a glowing net that courses in the direction we came from, the lines vanishing almost as quickly as they were sent out.
“What was that?” I ask Lukas.
“Noi anti-tracking sorcery.” He rises and surveys the forest floor. “One of the runes on the wand is precharged with it.”
His knowledge of mixed magery is like a door to the unknown thrown open. “You need to teach me how to do all of that,” I say, insistent.
Lukas flashes me a look of approval. “I will,” he promises as he pulls up the side of his tunic, flashing his glimmering-green skin in the dark gloom as he resheathes the wand.
Thierren stuffs our discarded clothing into one of the horses’ packs then hands both Lukas and me dark cloaks that match his own. We throw them on, then mount the horses, pull on our cloaks’ hoods, and take off through the woods down a rough, winding path as explosions and the roar of dragons reverberate in the distance.
Eventually we come to what looks like a long-abandoned Keltish guard tower, the top of the structure charred to oblivion, lichen growing over its crumbling stone walls. The explosions booming from the direction of the city are now faint disturbances that mingle with the muted roll of thunder from the storm that’s been gathering for more than a day. A storm that, I imagine, will be quite violent when
it finally breaks.
We ride around the structure’s stone corner, and my heart leaps.
Aislinn.
An almost debilitating surge of relief sweeps through me.
She’s standing beside Sparrow and Effrey alongside two more horses tethered to a rusted hitching post. The large black Frezian steeds are loaded with saddlebags, and brand-new silver wire spectacles frame Effrey’s fear-stricken purple eyes. Just above them all, Raz’zor perches on an overhanging tree limb like some bone-white, reptilian bird, his ruby eyes set fervidly on me.
Aislinn is dressed as I am, in simple, homespun garb, a cloak fastened over her shoulders, her hood casting her face in shadows. Dark circles anchor her eyes as she stares at me with a jagged intensity that speaks of prolonged, horrific struggle.
“Aislinn,” I rasp, my voice breaking as we all dismount and I go to her, the two of us falling into a tight, emotional embrace. “Lukas got you out,” I say as we hug each other close. “Thank the Ancient One.”
Aislinn pulls away, clutching my arms as she glances at Lukas and Thierren, who are recounting to Sparrow what happened as they boost Effrey onto one of the Frezians. “Sparrow got me out,” Aislinn tells me, her voice tremulous. “And she brought my two servants, as well. We’re to meet them and take them East too.” Stark urgency lights Aislinn’s green eyes. “Elloren... Sparrow told me that you’re the Black Witch. That it’s been you all this time.”
I bite my lip and nod as my eyes catch on what looks like a healing bruise on Aislinn’s cheek and a fresher ring of bruising around the base of her neck.
A flash of outrage spears through me. “You’re hurt,” I say as red-hot fire sparks and crackles through my lines. “Did Damion do that to you?”
Aislinn’s face twists into a pained grimace, the answer clear in her expression as she looks away. The desire for vengeance courses through me, along with the urge to grab every branch that litters the forest floor.
I want to find Damion Bane. I want to stalk him, branch or wand in hand, and finish what Lukas started.
Fury burns in my throat, followed by a rush of guilt. It was supposed to be me fasted to that monster. Not you.
“I’m so sorry, Aislinn,” I tell her, my voice trembling with outrage. “He’ll pay for this. I swear to you, someday he’ll pay for this.”
Aislinn shakes her head, her expression brittle. There’s a deep line between her eyes that wasn’t there before. But when she brings her gaze back to mine, her green eyes fire with rebellion. “I’m going to join the Lupines, Elloren.”
I pull in a harsh breath in response to her unflinching declaration, a welter of emotions rolling through me. “We’ll get to the Eastern Realm,” I say, choked up now. “And you’ll be with Jarod again.”
Aislinn’s face tightens with anguish as her voice lowers to a hoarse whisper. “Jarod will never want me now. Damion did things...made me do things...” She looks away, her frown quavering with disgust, the compounded weight of her pain in her expression. “He threatened to hurt my servant if I didn’t obey.” She meets my eyes again, and her gaze is so haunted, a chill runs through me. “Yillya is only twelve years old. I had to protect her...” She looks away again, as if she can’t bear for me to see the extent of her shame. “Lupines mate for life,” she says roughly as she wipes away a tear with the back of her trembling hand. “No. Jarod won’t want me anymore.” She looks back at me, her expression turning vengeful. “But I want Jarod to make me Lupine. So I can come back and find Damion Bane. As a Lupine.”
A tremor runs down my spine, so lethal is Aislinn’s expression. I’m reminded of Diana’s ferocity.
“Elloren.” Lukas’s urgent tone pulls my attention from Aislinn. He’s gripping the reins of our two Thoroughbreds, his green eyes fixed tight on me. I notice that he’s standing apart from Thierren and Sparrow, who are waiting by the Frezians and Thierren’s Thoroughbred. Effrey clutches the mane of his Frezian, looking nervous. “You and I need to go, now,” Lukas insists.
Shock flashes through me as I realize he means just me and him. Leaving Aislinn and the others to travel East on their own.
A sudden spiral of clarity descends.
We have to separate.
The full might of Gardnerian and the Vu Trin forces are bent on trying to catch or kill me. If we all travel together, I might bring those forces down on the heads of Aislinn, Sparrow, Effrey, and Thierren. And Lukas and I can move faster alone.
Black Witch, a low, snarling voice sounds in my mind.
Mind reeling, I glance up to find Raz’zor peering at me from his perch, calm as a predator on watch. The words he’s sending me are fierce, but devoid of any ire.
They’re a challenge. A call to battle.
I hold the dragon’s red gaze, a flash of his scarlet fire sizzling through me, prompting a deep, bolstering breath.
I turn back to Aislinn, forcing courage even as the walls of Erthia close around me, inspired by Raz’zor’s steady ferocity and his fire.
“I will see you in the Eastern lands,” I say to Aislinn. “And your eyes will glow amber.”
Aislinn nods, tears glazing her vision as she embraces me, and I realize, in a sudden clutch of anguish, that there’s a very real possibility we’re embracing for the last time. There are no guarantees that we’ll survive the journey East.
My head jerks toward the city as another faint explosion sounds in the distance.
We mount our horses, Lukas giving first Aislinn and then me a leg up, and I take one last look at our allies. Aislinn, Sparrow, Thierren, and Effrey, sitting in front of Sparrow and staring at me through his new spectacles with an expression of wide-eyed fright.
My heart clenches at the sight of such a young, gentle child thrust into fleeing for his life.
No child should be forced to flee for their life.
I meet Sparrow’s gaze from where she sits behind Effrey, reins in her hand. Determination blazes in her amethyst eyes.
“Uush’ayil moreethin orma’thur,” she calls to me in Uriskal, and I don’t need to speak her language to guess what she’s saying.
Be safe. Escape.
Live to fight them.
I nod back to her, my throat constricting as I turn to Aislinn and she gives me one last fierce look before we all prod our horses into motion, Aislinn, Sparrow, Thierren, and Effrey setting off in one direction, Lukas and I in another, an aching void hollowing out my chest as I lose sight of Aislinn.
Raz’zor shadows me, flying from branch to branch as I follow Lukas’s lead. Lukas glances at the dragon, then back to me, caution in his eyes.
Black Witch.
I feel Raz’zor’s greeting in the back of my mind, along with a sudden swell of kinship and the visceral pull of fealty. The warm glow of red Wyvernfire lights up my shielded lines.
A protective concern rises for this fierce dragon, along with a certainty that he needs to get out of the Western Realm.
And far away from me.
Go with Sparrow and Effrey and the rest, I think to Raz’zor as Lukas hastens our pace. You need to protect them. Get them to Noi lands. Fight for them if needed.
Images of red revenge flash through my mind.
Bloodshed. Slashing claws. Ruddy flames streaking through the air.
And then one word.
Fealty.
A rush of ruby fire sizzles through me and flashes bright red against my vision. The bloodred fire rushes straight through Lukas’s shield to wind around my fireline, and I pull in a deep breath as a sense of heightened strength floods me. Suddenly, I understand the powerful advantage of this oath of fealty as I sense the full weight of Raz’zor’s alliance.
If you’ve given me your fealty, I think out to him, then follow me in this. Go with them. Keep them safe.
Raz’zor takes flight, darting higher into the forest’s canopy, a flash of
pale white against the storm-darkened green.
I will find you in the Noi lands, he sends down to me. And I will fight with you.
You’ll be one of the few, I think back at the small dragon.
So be it, Liberator of Naga the Unbroken.
Another image of red fire, and the dragon rises past the canopy in a flash, wings flapping. A hard growl and then a white blur.
Another distant explosion startles the horses as a hard pulse of Lukas’s fire whips protectively around me. He glances back at me, his eyes burning with a determined light, before he turns away and veers slightly to the right as I follow, riding tight on his heels.
CHAPTER NINE
WAR
ELLOREN GREY
Sixth Month
Caledonian Forest, Gardneria
Lukas and I ride hard down narrow, deserted roads, the dark woods closing in around us, the forest’s barely suppressed hostility palpable on the lightning-charged air. The hoods of our cloaks are pulled up over our heads, the rune lanterns attached to our saddles emitting soft halos of scarlet light.
The sounds of explosions and roaring dragons have been muffled by the distance, but every now and then sapphire Vu Trin dragons streak overhead, spearing west, arresting my heart each time. I have to remind myself that our lantern light is magicked with Amaz runes to stay invisible to all but those who are very close to its glow.
Undetectable to the dragons flying overhead.
That are hunting for me.
After a while, Lukas waves me to a stop, swings off his horse, and secures the mare by a small stream, then motions for me to dismount, as well.
“I need to replenish the anti-tracking sorcery,” he tells me, “so the Vu Trin can’t locate you. And the horses need rest.” I slide off my mare and bring her to the stream as well, taking a moment to thank the animal, then draw closer to Lukas as he unsheathes his runic wand from underneath his tunic’s side.
Lukas gives my forearm a pointed look as lightning flashes and a peal of thunder breaks.
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