Fury

by E. L. Todd

  It was consumed in flames, about to collapse any second. “No…”

  He escaped, Cora.

  “Callon!” She cupped her mouth with both hands and yelled into the night. “Callon!” Ashe, there’s room here. Let’s unfuse, and you can fly away. No one will even notice.

  Silence.

  This is bad, and I’m probably going to die. And if I die…so do you.

  Silence.

  Come on! I don’t have time to wait around.

  I will not leave you.

  What? Why? The burning trees lit up the forest, the screams echoing from every direction. The world was just shadows and flame, the enemy invisible but everywhere. The most serene place in Anastille had become a bonfire of wood and bones.

  Because you’re my hatchling.

  She could no longer see the destruction of the forest. Now all she could see was a majestic black dragon, its head hung low so he could meet her gaze. Dark eyes bored into her, his snout close enough to give her shoulder a bump. Ashe…

  We are one. His mind fused with hers, giving her a jolt of energy, sight that could penetrate the darkness. Her mind felt weightless, her thoughts sharp as the tip of an arrow. Now let’s find him.

  Just when she ran forward, Callon’s tree house collapsed, the trunk turning to ash and losing its stability. Cora sprinted away, missing the embers that popped into the night and floated like fireflies. The heat seared her skin, even through her armor, and her lungs got a breath of smoke.

  Run in the direction of your home. He will be somewhere along the way.

  Her dragon sight could pierce the darkness when her elven eyes couldn’t—and she saw them.

  Dark cloaks. They billowed behind them as they moved, as if the creatures floated across the forest floor. Long, bony fingers were visible, fire in their palms. Like shadows that moved with the changing sun, their presence stretching in different places. They moved all over, torturing one elf then lighting up the tree next to the corpse.

  Now she could hear them too.

  Click-click-click. Cliiiiicck.

  “Callon!” She sprinted ahead and maneuvered through the trees, ignoring the clicks that haunted her from every direction. Every click was followed by the scream of a terrified elf. But when the screams stopped, that was even worse because that meant…

  She stopped when she spotted him on the ground.

  He was easy to see—because he was clad in the armor of a general.

  His sword by his side.

  The Shaman stood over him—torturing him.

  Callon writhed, on his back, his entire body shaking as his skull started to cave.

  With speed she never could have produced on her own, her feet hit the ground like she had wings to take flight, her body gliding through the air like the feathers of a bird. She crashed right into the Shaman, hitting a stack of pillows rather than a solid being, and tackled him to the ground. One hand went deeper into his body than the other, as if he were twisted like a staircase, as if he were ethereal rather than physical.

  He made a scream she’d never heard before, the howl of a wolf but with the shriek of a fox. It was so loud that it masked the ongoing destruction inside Eden Star. It drowned out the pleas for help, the thuds of the trunks as they hit the earth.

  He was back on his feet instantaneously, his crouched body turned toward her, thin, dead branches for fingers.

  He raised his palm.

  Her mind projected forward, and as if her fingers had a grip on his head, she snapped his neck, making his body collapse to the ground. Within a heartbeat, she’d crushed his skull from the inside out, plunging him into the eternal darkness of nothing.

  He didn’t even have time to scream.

  “Callon?” She was on her knees at his side, trying to help him up.

  His breaths were ragged, and his features were tight in a permanent wince. His stern eyes were closed, and he groaned, his hand immediately moving to his temple like he had the worst headache of his life.

  She gave him a second to recover—while the forest continued to burn around them. She scanned the area around them, screaming elves running away from their torturers, suddenly dropping dead when the Shaman behind them did their magic. It was a bloodbath—just without the blood.

  When he had the strength, he grabbed his sword from the ground and pushed to his feet, staggering slightly.

  She threw his arm over her shoulder and supported him.

  He pushed her away. “I have to protect the queen.”

  “You’re in no condition to fight—”

  “I will not let these monsters take my forest.” He turned on her, his eyes back to their serious hostility. Eyes wide-open and full of unspeakable rage, he looked maniacal. “You need to run, Cora. Take the secret passage out of the forest.”

  “This is my forest too, Callon. I’m not letting it burn.”

  He threw his arm down in frustration, his orders not being followed with perfect obedience. “I can’t protect you—”

  “But I can protect you.”

  His dark eyes reflected the firelight behind her, shifting back and forth quickly.

  “We do this together.”

  After a long stare, he gave a subtle nod. “Let’s go, Sor-lei.”

  Queen Delwyn stood erect as those who died to protect her lay at her feet.

  Melian was facedown on the stairs, the blood from her slit throat a pool on the steps below. General Aldon’s eyes were lifeless, staring up at the stars that he couldn’t see, even if he were alive, because they were blocked by the smoke. Other elves who gave their lives to protect her lay slain at her feet.

  Click.

  Click.

  Cliiiiiiccccck.

  The Shamans surrounded her on all sides, their cloaks dragging behind them as they crouched and glided through the air. They circled her, like a murder of crows waiting to peck out her eyes once the time was right.

  Her gown was stained with blood from those who had bled to keep her heart beating, but she held herself like her white gown was as pure as a flower that still flourished on its stem. Her crown remained perfectly straight on her head, her posture as confident as ever. The only cue to her demise was the fire in her eyes.

  In the black armor of the king, General Noose stood before her with his sword at his side, the mirth in his eyes as well on his lips. “We will burn this forest until there’s nothing left. Then we will build our castles and our keeps. Our homes. Our brothels. Our farmlands. Elves, once immortal, will be forgotten. Shall I keep you alive long enough to see the last elf slain? Or should I grant you mercy and do the honors now?”

  Queen Delwyn held his gaze with an unflinching stare. Bright green like the forest surrounding them, her eyes were the only light in the dark place. There was no one left to protect her, but she carried herself like an army was at her back, arrows trained on her enemies.

  A deep chuckle escaped his throat. “I could take you prisoner and have my fun with you. An elf…that would be a first.” He raised his sword slightly, pointing the tip at her feet. “But I’ve always been an impatient man—”

  Callon broke through the trees and sprinted to the bottom of the stairs. When he got to General Noose, his sword flashed with the surrounding firelight and the greenness of the queen’s eyes. He struck down General Noose’s sword, putting his body between him and his queen.

  General Noose’s sword dropped momentarily as he backed away.

  Queen Delwyn flinched at his sudden appearance, taking a step back up the stairs to get away from the fight. “Callon, flee. Save who you can.”

  Callon kept his position, his sword held at the ready. His angry eyes burned into General Noose’s, and he gripped the pommel of his blade so tightly that it stretched the fabric of his gloves. He was still, his eyes unblinking, ready to drive his enemy out of Eden Star.

  Click. Click. Click.

  Cliiiiiiiick.

  Click.

  General Noose let his sword hang at his side, a la
rge grin across his big mouth. “General Callon. I’m glad you’re here. You deserve an honorable death. I’m happy to oblige.” Without warning, his sword slashed with the speed of the wind, meeting Callon’s with a distinct clank that rang throughout the forest.

  The men engaged in battle, delivering a flurry of hits and strikes. They circled each other, dodging left and right, ducking under the swipes and jumping over the blade as it swung at their feet. They moved with the speed of shooting stars, everything happening so quickly that it was hard to know if it happened at all.

  Callon met his might—but only barely. His battle became a defensive one, blocking the flurry of hits that came his way rather than striking on his own. He became Cora in her training, unable to participate as a worthy opponent.

  He’s too weak to win this fight.

  A Shaman raised his palm toward Callon.

  Cora’s reaction was instantaneous, bringing him to a collapse. Her mind caved in his skull, killing him before he could move against her uncle.

  The swordfight continued, both fighters oblivious to the deceased Shaman that blended into the darkness.

  General Noose pushed Callon back, struck down his sword so it landed on the grass, and brought him to his knees in front of the queen.

  No.

  Callon winced, like the pain in his mind was just too much to carry on. He was not the inferior fighter, but the torture his mind endured had severed the connection between his thoughts and his body. He couldn’t hold the sword as he did before. Couldn’t execute a lifetime of training.

  The mirth burned in General Noose’s eyes as well as his mouth. His grin of victory was grotesque, as if slaying his enemy was the greatest pleasure he’d ever known. General Noose raised his sword and prepared to swipe Callon’s head clean from his shoulders.

  But then he gave an involuntary jerk and backed away, his hand clutching his temple.

  Callon didn’t waste the opportunity and dove for his fallen sword.

  General Noose growled as he looked at the sea of Shamans, surveying them in the circle, lines of tension on his face as his temples throbbed. “What is this game?”

  Click.

  Click. Click.

  Cliiiiiick.

  General Noose gathered his bearings and came for Callon once more, his eyes full of even greater blood lust.

  Callon raised his sword to deflect the attack rushing down on him. But his grasp on the pommel was weak, his shoulders heavy, his body slow. He knew he would be slain, but he carried on anyway.

  But Cora got there first.

  She took his place and shoved him back, her body blocking his, her brilliant sword meeting the steel of the empire.

  Callon fell onto his back at the foot of the stairs. “Cora!”

  The General’s sword met the fire of her scales, a thud different from steel on steel. It was steel on earth, a quiet thud rather than a clank of metal. He shoved her sword with his as he stepped back, his wide eyes staring with incredulity that quickly turned into glee.

  “Cora, no.” Callon tried to push himself to his feet but collapsed back on the stairs. Too weak to get to his feet, he was helpless to interfere. “Please. I beg you. Run.” His voice broke with the emotional plea of a father, desperate to protect the one thing he had left. “Don’t do this…” His eyes filled with a thin film of moisture, of heartbreak, of frustrated tears.

  General Noose flicked his sword around his wrist as the grin spread. “If the little girl wants to play, let her play.” He extended his hand and gave a dramatic bow before he righted himself again.

  Cora gripped her sword with both hands, moving her feet the way she’d been taught, waiting for the unexpected attack she’d been trained to anticipate. The blade was weightless in her hands. Strength from an outside source flooded into her body. The darkness was as easy to pierce as daylight. She was aware of everything, from the sweat that dripped down his temple to the shine of saliva on his front teeth.

  Focus, Cora. He may have the strength of a man—but you have the strength of a dragon.

  Not just any dragon—but the King of Dragons.

  Yes.

  General Noose rushed her, his sword swinging with the speed of Callon’s on his best day.

  She was ready for it, her red sword blocking his hit along with the next and the next. Their swords danced together in a series of blows, each hit meeting the block of the other. His armor was made of steel, so she aimed her attacks at his wrists and neck. She barely needed to take a breath because she was so calm, her mind so focused there was no panic, no palpitations to her heart.

  General Noose withdrew. “Not bad—for a little girl.”

  Callon pushed to his feet again. Instead of being the most respectable swordsman in Anastille, he was now an old man, a man who didn’t move the way he once did. But he tried anyway—to no avail. “Cora!”

  The General was done playing with his food and came at her hard, ready to end this right now and for good.

  Now.

  She pushed out her mind, hitting him like a shot from a cannon.

  He gave a loud groan and fell back, his features showing the agony that writhed inside his skull.

  Kill him.

  She pushed her mind out again, to crush his skull the way she did with the Shamans. The fight would end quickly, and King Lux would lose his greatest pawn. It wouldn’t just be a victory for Eden Star, but for the continent.

  Click. Cliiiiick. Click.

  The Shamans’ minds formed a protective wall around the General’s, protecting the final layer before his skull could be compromised.

  She continued to push—but she was exhausted by the action. It was an element of surprise she hadn’t expected, a strength she couldn’t defeat. She was powerless, and if she kept going, she feared her own mind would be incapacitated.

  Stop.

  She pulled away.

  General Noose recovered and came at her again, this time with a scowl.

  His hits were harder, fueled by venomous rage, pushing her back with the strength of a bull. Every strike possessed the power of all his muscles, of all the strength of a man three times her size. He came down on her like storm clouds, unleashing hail and thunder. He was a volcano, his lava about to drown her in fire.

  Cora met his hits, never giving up an opening for him to slice her head off her shoulders. Now her breaths became labored, her thoughts strained, even with Ashe’s help. Without their union, she would have no help to prevail. She would have been defeated at the first blow.

  Now.

  She pushed again, compromising him a second time. His sword lost its momentum, and he faltered just long enough to give Cora an opening. She went for the break in his armor, between his vambraces and his gloves.

  Her sword sliced over his wrist, deep into the flesh.

  He stumbled back and gave a growl as he felt the bite of his injury. His eyes went down to his hand, the blood dripping over his gloves and to the grass below him. One drop splashed on his boot. He raised his arm and watched himself bleed before his eyes flicked back to hers. His breaths became heavy, his eyes menacing.

  “Who’s the little girl now—bitch.”

  His nostrils flared as he righted himself, blood still dripping everywhere. His sword switched hands because the open wound made his grip too slippery. His heavy breaths deepened. The rage in his eyes was lethal. “Two can play this game.”

  What does that mean?

  Focus, Cora.

  The assault happened, hitting her mind from all sides, like blades dragging along the sides of her skull. They all shot through the bone, trying to get in, to break it down from the inside. Her body buckled and she winced, Callon’s screams now blurry whispers in the background. “CORA!”

  Click.

  Cliiiiicccccck.

  General Noose came for her once again. “Let’s see who’s the bitch now.”

  This is all I have, Cora.

  She got another rush of energy, just a bit more to increase
her focus, another involuntary jolt to her body.

  But now, I must retreat to save my strength. I know you will defeat him, Hatchling.

  Her sword met Noose’s, the ringing in her ears, the gnawing in her stomach. Her eyes closed as she held his offense, using a greater sense than sight. She held back the weight of a mountain with the strength of a dragon, her power coming from the union of two souls. It was a blistering headache, agony. The pain was overwhelming. She gave a scream then sliced his wrist once again, digging her blade deep.

  This time, he screamed as he fell back. “Arrrrggggghh!”

  Cliiiiicccck.

  Her eyes opened, and she regripped her sword, seeing General Noose bleed from both hands. Despite her pain, she couldn’t wipe away the victorious smirk across her face.

  “Cora!” Callon continued to scream. “Run!”

  The Shamans rushed in, the strength of their spell increasing with proximity. There were six of them, all of their palms raised, doing their dirty work so General Noose could slice her head clean from her shoulders.

  She pushed through the pain and projected her mind around her. The assault came from various directions in front of her, some sources stronger than others. With all the might they could muster, they struck to kill, to buckle her knees from underneath her and make her eyes empty forever.

  She pushed herself harder than ever before, invading all minds at once, infecting every single skull.

  The torture on her mind ceased.

  The six Shamans collapsed on the ground—all dead. With a unifying thud, they were no more. Just corpses on the ground. More dead than they were before.

  General Noose hung back, his sword falling to his side. His eyes surveyed the dead before him. Six bodies in cloaks surrounded him, the allies that were supposed to be invincible. Then his eyes turned to her. Now, there was no gloat. No grin. No taunt. Nothing.

  She breathed through the agony, the ringing now faint in her ears. The pain lingered, but it was a fraction of what it’d been before. Her adrenaline masked the rest of it. Her victory straightened her spine, darkened her eyes, made her step forward with a confidence she’d never possessed before.

  All General Noose could do was stare.