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The Lost Alliance (Rise of the Drakens Book 2)

Page 9

by Raven Storm


  His face was already twisted in anger before my words registered. He stopped, then looked away.

  “No one understands.”

  I pulled away.

  “Of course, I couldn’t possibly know what it’s like to be ripped away from your family, to be alone, to be scared and terrified with no way out. I can’t even imagine that singular experience is unique to you and no one else. Astrid was right—your sorrows aren’t greater than anyone else’s.”

  He glared at me, a ball of frustrated energy. That’s when I understood what was truly bothering him. Yes, he was angry with the witches, but our inability to act immediately left him feeling helpless. When Benedict felt helpless, he got angry.

  “You—”

  He didn’t get another word out because I tackled him as hard as I could. The surprised, befuddled look on his face was one I would cherish forever as I took him to the ground, likely only due to the fact I had taken him by surprise.

  “You want to fight, so let’s fight.”

  That was how Benedict was, wasn’t it? He was a creature of action, a leader who needed to do, and was easily frustrated when he was unable to act. He easily caught the punch I threw at his face but was much slower to block the sweep of his feet. His eyes widened in surprise.

  “You’ve been practicing.”

  I pumped my wings to gain lift then dove into him, a ball of lean muscle rocketing towards his chest. He opened his arms and welcomed me, only grunting as my face rammed into the hard plane of his muscles and knocked us both down again. My teeth were in his neck a second later, dulling the throbbing of my face. He groaned and ripped me away from him to claim my lips himself. My claws drew red lines down his back as he devoured my mouth, his frustration and anger a hurricane that raged around me. I took it all in, relishing the roughness of the sand and shells that scraped against our scales. His hands roved over my body, questing lower, and lower, until—

  A high-pitched call echoed over the dunes, from a distance away. He froze, then growled.

  “Kieran.”

  Benedict and I were in the air moments later, flapping wildly to achieve altitude. Kieran and Astrid must have kept searching alone the dunes and wandered further north down the coastline. The call repeated, veering inland as our wings automatically made the necessary adjustments. We saw Astrid and Kieran fighting viciously with five vampyres, whose torn clothes and empty veins meant they were desperate with hunger. Desperate enough to be stronger than normal, but also enough to make mistakes.

  “You wanted a fight,” I taunted, but Benedict was already gone, barreling into a vampyre who had launched himself at Kieran’s unprotected back, grinning with the anticipation of battle. They both slammed into the ground, the vampyre’s spine snapping with loud crack. The vampyre didn’t move, unable to heal with no blood flowing through his undead body. After a moment his body turned to ash and disintegrated.

  I snarled and flew to Astrid, who was holding her own against another pair of vampyres. Her arms whirled through the air, making intricate motions that were hard for me to make out. Her fingers mimicked tying a knot in midair, then she pulled her hands taut, as if holding an invisible string. The vampyre nearest to her went down, clutching her garroted throat. I drew my daggers and attacked the other, one eye on Kieran and Benedict.

  I threw my knife into the neck of the second vampyre before Astrid, and she swiftly decapitated him with a few ties of her invisible string. We both turned to see how the boys were faring. One vampyre was left, on his back and scampering backwards as Kieran and Benedict advanced. I dove down and retrieved my dagger from the dead vampyre, a moment before the body turned to ash.

  “Interrogate him!” Astrid called out, and the remaining vampyre hissed in return, his eyes flaring in panic. Benedict smirked, and with barely any movement stabbed his sword through the creature’s shoulder, pinning him to the ground. The vampyre screamed.

  “Don’t bother. He knows nothing.”

  We all spun to face the newcomer, a young woman with the same blonde, dreadlocked hair as her sister, but interspersed with strands of black. Whereas Merrow’s eyes were blue like the calm sea, Meruse’s were dark like a raging tempest. Unlike Astrid and Merrow’s white linen shifts, Meruse was dressed like a warrior. Black leathers hugged a lanky, muscled frame from shoulders to ankles. A sword was strapped to her back, and daggers and throwing stars covered her arms and legs. She was a walking armory in addition to whatever magicks she could yield. Even covered with blood and dirt, she was someone I certainly didn’t want to cross.

  “He is the last of a few packs I’ve been tracking. The vampyres are trying to flee the coasts. I ensure they don’t succeed.”

  Astrid bowed, making a deliberate gesture with her arms. Meruse paused, then gave a slight bow in return.

  “Well met, Meruse of the sea clan. We seek an audience to gain knowledge in these troubling times.”

  Astrid’s voice was calm. Meruse snorted, and Benedict raised an eyebrow.

  “Troubling times? With my witches disappearing left and right, the blood witches disappearing entirely, and you casually standing there with drakens? Holy fuck, is that a female draken?”

  She took a few steps towards me, as if I could disappear at any moment. Kieran and Benedict closed ranks in front of me, fangs bared.

  Astrid threw us back from each other with a blast of wind. I furiously wiped sand from my eyes.

  “What do you mean, the blood witches have disappeared?” Astrid demanded.

  Meruse’s head snapped up. “Come, we have much to discuss.”

  Ten

  Meruse led us to an abandoned shack, away from the beach and shielded from the mountains by large sand dunes.

  “The hordes have taken to destroying the dunes; it is no longer safe to dwell there this far north. I will have Merrow move our people further south, or perhaps to the woods.”

  Her eyes flicked to Astrid, who shook her head.

  “The air coven has moved to Lyoness, with the earth soon to join us if necessary.” She ended the statement there, shooting a pointed look to Benedict. Meruse eyed all of us warily.

  “The drakens have reclaimed the island? This is fortunate news.” Meruse paused and took a deep breath.

  “Merrow probably told you our sea witches are disappearing. I left the dunes to find out why and where my witches have gone. I had hoped to speak with the blood witches, but their towns and villages are abandoned.”

  Astrid blanched, her face paling.

  “Abandoned?”

  “The worst part is that the villages are not sacked, burned, or destroyed in any way. An attack would make sense, but essentials are gone, and their houses are bare. The blood witches went willingly, wherever they went. If we have not seen them along the coast, and the earth and air witches have not seen them in the forests, that leaves limited options.”

  “The Overlord?” Benedict questioned, speaking directly to Meruse for the first time. She hesitated, then nodded quickly.

  “I fear so.”

  Astrid shook her head.

  “No, that can’t be right. What would they want with the blood witches?”

  “What wouldn’t they want?” Astrid pressed; her voice alarmed.

  “Their knowledge of blood magicks, their power…”

  Astrid stopped, breathing heavily.

  “Those creatures who attacked Lyoness. We had never seen demons like them. What if, what if…”

  She trailed off, unable to speak the sordid thoughts that raced through her brain. Meruse furrowed her brow.

  “You think they may be building...weapons?”

  “Of a sort,” Astrid replied, her eyes still distant. She shook her head. “What news of the fire witches?”

  Meruse snorted.

  “Attacked and scattered. The Overlord asked for...volunteers to come into the mountain. When none offered, he ransacked their villages. A few got away, a few were taken alive.”

  “Volunteers for what?” I aske
d, even as Astrid’s face went solemn at the news. Meruse looked away, then up again.

  “I don’t know, exactly.”

  “You clearly have a guess.” Benedict had been studying the sea witch, taking in her muscled form and determined stance. A strange, angry feeling swirled in my stomach, and I pushed it away. Now was not the time for any ‘female dramatics’, as Benedict had so aptly named them.

  Meruse hesitated, as if debating whether to share her thoughts.

  “I believe they want witches as breeders.”

  Kieran and Astrid gasped, while Benedict’s face clouded over. A seed of indignance welled within my chest at their distaste.

  “Are you forgetting how I came to be in your mountain?” Kieran had the sense to look ashamed, but Benedict stayed as stoic as a statue. Meruse looked between Benedict and I, then cleared her throat.

  “I mean, they are trying to create weapons. Creatures born of blood or fire witches who can wield demons magicks yet survive in our lands. The vampyres are deserting and dying out; the Overlord does not care for their well-being. The demons themselves cannot survive for long on our lands, and with their allies stretching thin it makes sense they would seek to create new ones.”

  I turned to Kieran, confused.

  “I didn’t realize demons couldn’t exist here long.” He looked back, just as befuddled.

  “Neither did I.”

  Meruse threw her hands in the air. “Oh honestly, did none of you know?”

  Our blank looks flustered her further.

  “How long were you in that mountain again?” She huffed in disgust as Kieran opened his mouth to respond. “Don’t answer. Just listen.”

  And we did. Meruse told us everything she knew; about how the demons weren’t born in this world, rather they came here from somewhere else.

  “Where? And how are they getting here?”

  Meruse rubbed her forehead with two fingers.

  “We don’t know. Our oral histories speak of a dark force that first entered the mountains a millennium ago but offered no other details. What do your histories say?”

  Kieran and Benedict frowned, but my head shot up.

  “Domik would know if there was anything to know. We should ask him.”

  Benedict looked surprised that I knew who Domik was.

  “We shall when we return. If we have records, they weren’t passed down through any great stories or legends.”

  Meruse nodded, then looked to Astrid.

  “Our tales are mostly similar; after all, a millennium ago most witches still lived with mixed covens. Our tales speak of the same darkness and serve as a cautionary warning not to get too close to the mountains.”

  I frowned, still feeling as though we were seeing only a tiny corner of the picture, rather than the entire thing.

  “We have no idea where the hordes came from? They just...fell out of the sky?”

  Heads turned towards me with unfriendly glances. I rolled my eyes.

  “What is beyond the mountains?”

  Astrid blanched, and shot a look to Meruse. Benedict answered, waving a hand dismissively.

  “Vast amounts of desert. I have flown over it. It stretches further than my wings could travel. Since I do not know what is beyond it, I cannot shift there.”

  I considered his words. “And what is beyond the desert?”

  Silence.

  “Why are vampyres fleeing and dying out?”

  They took a moment to consider my question.

  “Vampyres feed on humans. Conditions for humanity haven’t exactly been thriving these past few centuries, so if there are less humans, it makes sense the vampyre population would decline as well.”

  Kieran nodded, even as Meruse began to pace, her leather boots sending sand flying before her feet. “The vampyres made a deal without seeing the long-term consequences; they should have rallied with the humans. If their food source dies out, so do they.”

  “Everyone should have rallied with the humans,” Bnedict bit out, his eyes shooting daggers at the witches.

  “Let’s not fall into the same trap as the vampyres by thinking only of the past and present. Rather, let’s think about the future.”

  Benedict fell silent. I resolved to talk to him further about his hatred for witches.

  “Is it possible the vampyres would turn? Could we get them to our side?” I asked. Meruse laughed, a loud, unexpected sound that startled me.

  “‘Our side’? What are you talking about?”

  Anxiety creeped through my veins, and Kieran and Benedict were avoiding my eyes. I licked my lips, confused.

  “I thought, I thought perhaps—"

  “You may have leveraged support from the air and earth covens by providing them with something they need, but do not be so bold as to assume our support.”

  Astrid snorted.

  “You will hide here in your sand dunes while Dorea falls apart? If the drakens fall, there will be no world. Or did you plan on finding your lost witches on your own?”

  Meruse’s face tightened in grief, and she threw herself at Astrid. The two witches tumbled into each other, fighting ferociously. Daggers flashed and then dropped to the ground, useless as Astrid removed the air around them. Meruse screamed in frustration, making no sound as Astrid had removed that air as well.

  “Are you quite finished?”

  Meruse’s face was growing red from a lack of oxygen, and I wondered if Astrid would kill her. Then the sea witch gave in, nodding reluctantly. Astrid waved her hand and the other witch fell, gasping.

  “I’d drown you in a heartbeat—sink your body so deep below the waves you’d forget what air was.”

  Astrid sat down calmly, brushing the excess sand from her dress.

  “I have no doubt you would.” She gestured for Meruse to sit.

  “We are not in the ocean, we are here. Your witches are missing, and we have allies here willing to help locate them. Let them.”

  My eyes shot between Meruse and Benedict, a wry smile curling my lips.

  “You two are very much alike.”

  Their twin grins of horror made the rest of us burst into laughter, dispelling any lingering tension or ill will. I shot a pleading look to Benedict, who crossed his arms sullenly.

  “We will help you find your missing witches, if you ally the sea witches to our cause.”

  Benedict’s words rang with power, Kieran and I’s ears twitching as we sensed it.

  Meruse wiped a bloody hand across her nose, sniffing.

  “Fine.”

  They shook hands, while Astrid grinned.

  “Welcome to the alliance. Let’s get started.”

  Despite Meruse’s grumblings, it was decided that the best course of action would be to go inland, and search for any clues amongst the abandoned villages. We sat around a small campfire, eating from the provisions we had all brought. At some point we would likely have to hunt, but for now it was enough to share and eat together, a smaller symbol of our true intentions of a lasting alliance.

  Astrid and Meruse went off in private behind the dunes, discussing what they knew. Benedict and I sat next to each other, my head on his shoulder. Kieran dozed nearby, the firelight flickering off his blood red scales. I exhaled, looking up at the stars in the sky.

  “What is blood magick, exactly? I’ve seen the other drakens do it, and there is an entire coven of witches dedicated to the art, so it must be important.”

  Benedict’s eyes were hooded, his gaze dark.

  “Would you like to learn?”

  I swallowed, nervous. “If I am capable, yes.”

  He huffed. “That is the question.”

  Benedict withdrew one of his daggers, amethysts glinting on the hilt that matched his eyes. The blade was made of black stone and sharpened precisely. The finish of the blade was dull, as though it had been wrapped in smoke and shadows.

  “I took this dagger from a shadow demon. It has been my favorite ever since.”

  He held it out to me,
and I took an involuntary step forward. Something about the knife sang to me; a darkness inside that grabbed ahold of the pain I had suffered and dug into it. It reminded me of Benedict, oddly enough.

  “Blood magick is either white or black.”

  “Like all magick, you said,” I interjected, eager to prove I had listened weeks ago during the draken games. It seemed almost like a lifetime ago.

  He flicked the blade, twisting it in the air and catching it cleanly.

  “Black uses your own pain, white uses the pain of others. You can use both to...improve yourself.”

  I thought of the battles, of how my knife had kissed Sabien’s skin as he’d chanted, moments before he sacrificed himself. I shook my head.

  “Improvements. Like what?”

  Benedict smirked, trailing the edge of the knife down my bosom. My breath caught, fear and desire warring as the blade tickled my skin.

  “Have you ever wanted to see perfectly in the dark? Run faster? Have three times the strength you possess now? Blood magick can achieve all of that.”

  I didn’t like the darkness coming off him; the seriousness that clutched his heart even as the knife made my blood sing with desire. He dragged it further down my chest, playing with the tight band around my breasts.

  “Three times the strength I have now still wouldn’t be that impressive.”

  He snorted, and the knife retreated. The spell of darkness was broken.

  “Not all strength is physical.”

  Kieran’s voice cut through the dark haze that had settled over Benedict and I, snapping through my mind like a cold bucket of water. I sat up, trying in vain to chase away the blush on my cheeks.

  “Kieran, do you mind giving me some time alone with Benedict?”

  I saw the slight hurt in his eyes, and vowed to make it up to him later. Without a sound he stood and flapped away into the night.

  “I would have taken you here with him watching,” Benedict murmured, his voice a dark purr in my ear. It would be easy to just let him have his way with me and gods did I want it. Now wasn’t the time.

 

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