Victoria pulled back on the reins so the swifen would hover in one spot.
Faeoris placed her hand on Angst’s shoulder. “How... What did you do?”
“I don’t have a clue,” Angst replied, just as stunned. He returned Chryslaenor to his back and scratched his graying head.
“Is it dead?” Victoria asked impatiently.
“What could possibly live through that?” Angst stared on.
“You didn’t really just say that, did you?” Faeoris sighed.
“He does that.” Victoria grunted.
“Get closer,” Angst commanded.
Victoria looked back over her shoulder.
“Please,” he said. “Faeoris, please stay back. No need for all of us to be in danger.”
“Yeah, just your best friend,” Victoria muttered.
Faeoris nodded once but still followed close, either defiant or oblivious to his commands. Victoria urged her swifen toward the ocean until they were five feet from the choppy surface. Pale green and red ooze bubbled up with chunks of flesh. Dozens of small shadows swarmed a larger one, like bees surrounding a hive. They were too big to be fish and too small to be whales.
“Angst, fly higher,” Faeoris called.
A living island rose from the ocean, and waves twenty feet high shot from the gigantic dark figure, parting over its pale green skin. Victoria screamed, and Angst beckoned her to pull back and fly higher as half the monster’s body bent horrifically, rising out of the water. The giant mass struck the air shield with such force it shattered like glass, the impact throwing them up into the sky. He lost his seat on Tori’s swifen, and kicked helplessly as he flew up higher and higher, far over great masses of clouds. The air became unbearably cold, his lungs burned, and he gasped for breath. His head pulsed from the creature’s blow, and Angst squeezed his temples, trying to contain the throbbing. How hard had that thing hit them?
“Too fast, too high,” Angst wheezed out in panic. “Tori! Faeoris!”
The bright blue sky and white clouds darkened. As everything became black, he saw spots before his eyes. Then he realized they weren’t spots, they were stars, and Angst looked up to see the night sky.
“This isn’t right,” he gasped to himself. “How can it be night?” Then he began to fall.
59
Unsel
Sparks flew as swords crashed together, notching both blades as they struggled for dominance. Rook was younger, and stronger, but Vars was a statue, unflinching. This close, Rook could see he was missing an ear. A quick glance down revealed several missing fingers, and he stood at an odd angle, as though compensating for a bad foot or leg. The man was old, broken, yet strong as a bull. Vars pulled back, circling him, his eyes darting quickly as he sought an opening.
“You killed that soldier,” Rook accused. “One of our own! He trusted you to lead him, and you cut off his head.”
“I saved Unsel from another wielder,” Vars spat. “This country is cursed with them! They are far worse than these green beasts.”
Vars swung in a wide arc, forcing Rook to leap back. Rook pressed forward to drive his sword into the old man’s neck, but Vars swatted it away. Vars sliced in a backhand, and Rook blocked, pushing the blade down. He drove up with the butt of his hilt, smashing Vars in the mouth. Blood sprayed onto Rook’s face; it was cold. Vars bared his teeth, now framed in blood. Rook cut in a downward arc, his blade deflecting off of the old man’s leaf-embroidered plate armor.
“They don’t make armor like this anymore,” Vars said. His blade struck Rook’s leg, the same spot damaged by the gargoyles.
“What are you?” Rook cried out. “You’re too old to be this strong.”
“I’m justice,” Vars cried. “I’m the one who will cleanse Unsel. I started with the crown, and I’ll kill every last man, woman, and child that wields or sides with them.”
“You killed them?” Rook said, incredulous. The blood drained from his face. “You killed Queen Isabelle and the Captain Guard?”
“What choice did I have?” Vars said, his eyes wild, spittle foaming at his mouth. “They harbored and supported wielders, even making magic legal. Can’t you see? Those inflicted with the magics do nothing but rain destruction on everyone! They’re the ones who killed my son.”
“You idiot! You can’t win this fight without them,” Rook declared. “Your army will be torn to pieces. Our army! Nobody will be left!”
“Sometimes you have to start from scratch,” Vars replied with a wicked grin.
“Traitor!” Rook called, attacking with renewed vigor. He swung down, again and again, chopping down against Vars’s sword.
Vars backed away from the onslaught, shaken by the younger man’s blows. His sword began to lean toward his face as his hold weakened. Rook sensed victory until the old man looked toward the sinkhole and laughed. Even if Vars were insane, what could possibly be so funny? He leaned back and kicked Vars in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Rook turned his head and almost dropped his sword.
A monster as wide as the sinkhole rose from the chasm, its slimy thick green-gray hide covered with creatures. Even from this distance, Rook could tell the beast’s passengers were bigger than any soldier in Unsel, maybe even the size of Tarness. They looked like large, walking fish. Bluish scale covered their legs and arms, fins jutted from their backs, and some had wide, webbed ears that looked like the gargoyles’. Fish people? With legs?
The sounds of battle silenced as the newest challenge approached. Everyone paused to stare in horror as the massive creature slowed like a ship coming into harbor. Water sloshed over the edge of the maiden’s courtyard floor, pushed up and over by the creature’s mass.
The tallest fish creature stepped off the giant monster and stood a stone’s throw away from Rook. He set his pike down as if claiming this territory. He was different from the others—an oblong circle of blue stood out on his forehead. He opened his mouth, baring rows and rows of thin, shark teeth that made Rook shudder and tighten his grip on his sword. No words came out, but gargoyles landed with noisy thuds beside him. They were obviously on the same side.
“Wielders,” Rook shouted. “To me!”
He glanced at Vars, who was leaning back on his elbows and laughing maniacally. He didn’t want to kill Vars like this, but it was time to finish him and move on. Blood spattered as he drove his blade in below the breastplate, the grotesque squishing and gurgling sound lingering in his ears. The old man kept laughing, even after Rook twisted the blade. Vars gripped the end with his shaky, gauntleted hand and forced it out of his chest. As Rook lifted his weapon to strike again, he heard a resounding thud beside him, followed by a second, and then a third. Three gargoyles flanked him and didn’t hesitate in their attack. He swung out defensively as a large, green hand filled his vision.
Janda watched Rook run toward Vars, his thick muscles gleaming in the sunlight as he raised his sword. Janda sighed for the briefest second, grateful for her catch. They needed to hurry up and make babies...right after they survived this. She shook her head and immediately noticed six gargoyles advancing, gliding toward them in a V formation, like a flock of birds.
“Before we make a path for Angst, we need to make one for my boyfriend!” she called out, pointing her hand at the nearest one. Flames shot from her fingers, engulfing a gargoyle. The monster didn’t burn; he boiled. Bubbles formed beneath the surface of its body, coming faster and faster like a tea kettle that finally blew. The gargoyle exploded, steamy ooze landing in dark pools before disintegrating into smoke. Before she could throw another burst of flame, Unsel soldiers attacked her flank. “You fools!” she called out. “Fight the gargoyles, not us!”
“Wielders die first,” the nearest one said, raising his axe.
Then the soldiers began to disappear, all of them dropping through a black portal in the ground. The old man, Andec, stood beside her, his outstretched arm surrounded by a cloudy darkness. Sweat trickled from his forehead and his hand shook with the effort of his
will.
“Where did you send them?” she asked.
“To the dungeons,” he grumbled. “Where they belong.”
More soldiers faced them, but now seemed hesitant to attack, in spite of Vars barking orders. Rook closed in on his target, but more gargoyles were swarming overhead and five still stood between them.
“I can’t do this alone,” Janda ordered.
“I join you in battle!” Maarja roared. The large Nordruaut rushed forward, grabbed a gargoyle by the leg and swung him around like a weapon.
“Woo hoo!” Jintorich cried, leaping off a broken pillar. He struck a gargoyle with his staff. A flash of light made Janda wince, and the gargoyle was gone. The small Meldusian sprinted after Maarja on his tiny legs.
Simon’s brother, Sean, walked past her calmly. The only wielder to refuse armor, he was dressed instead in loose-fitting brown linen robes. He had unruly black hair, and his gaunt, tanned features seemed malnourished. Without a word, Sean lifted his hands in the air, as though trying to hug the sun. He threw his head back, his long black mane flopping wildly. Nothing happened as a gargoyle landed before him with a smirk on its face.
“Someone get him out of there!” Janda commanded.
“Just wait,” Simon said, placing a hand on her arm. “My brother is fine.”
“Where’s Jaden?” she asked. “We need him!”
“He’s alive, but unconscious,” Simon replied. “I dragged him back into the hallway. I even healed a cut from his fall!”
“Good job,” she said, unable to keep the worry from her voice. “But what about your brother?”
“It’s the animals,” he explained. “They help Sean.”
The nearest gargoyles covered their heads and ducked as a massive dark cloud approached. At first, it looked like a wave of small birds migrating, but as they closed in, Janda could see how much bigger they actually were. Similar to the cavastil birds that had attacked Unsel, scores of almost human-sized bats, with furry bodies and black leathery wings, descended on the gargoyles, diving into the monsters like statues of wet clay.
Rook’s path was clear, and he swung down at Vars again. Janda wanted to watch her man in action, but had fighting of her own to do. Soldiers who attacked from her left were either teleported to safety or slid on summoned sheets of ice to crash into distant walls. Dark ovals of power shot over her shoulder, as Nikkola blasted a gargoyle out of existence. Hope swept through Janda as other wielders stepped forward, bravely attacking with weather and light and darkness, whatever they could throw or defend with. It was almost fun, the rush of battle filling her as she began counting how many of the giant beasts she’d destroyed in balls of fire. Some of the dying gargoyle remains landed on others, making the creatures grow in size, but they were still no match for the onslaught of magical power assaulting them. She took a deep breath and sighed. She would live through this, marry Rook, and make babies. Lots and lots of babies.
“Janda!” Nikkola grabbed her shoulder. Her sister patted it hurriedly and pointed toward Rook.
Three gargoyles landed between her boyfriend and the cliff. Vars was already lying on his back, almost defeated. Rook could finish the old man, but there was no way he could defend against the monsters. She ran.
60
Angst flailed in panic as he fell toward the clouds. Water streamed from his eyes, and his cheeks pulled back mercilessly in the wind. He didn’t know how to fly, nor did his foci. He could try slowing himself like he did when diving through the dome, but that had still hurt, a lot. It would be much worse at this height, even if he did land in the ocean. Just his luck to fall from the stars and land in a feeding frenzy of hungry mermen.
Angst jerked to a stop with a frightened yelp, his armor digging painfully into his armpits. Faeoris had reached through the towering blade hilts with one hand to grab the back of his armored chest piece. She strained at the awkward position, holding him several feet over billowing clouds.
“This isn’t as easy as it looks,” Faeoris grunted in his ear, throwing him up a foot to reach under his arms for a better hold.
“Y-you caught me!” Angst stuttered, unable to slow his breathing.
“That’s what friends do, right?” she asked.
“You’re a good friend,” he said, patting her hand and wishing they were on the ground.
“Now the sex?” she asked.
“What?” he choked out.
She had done it again; he was at a loss for words. Faeoris laughed so much he thought she would drop him. He couldn’t help but shake his head and smile before coming to his senses. In the panic from the fall and the relief of being caught, he’d lost track of his best friend.
“Where’s Victoria?” Angst looked around. “Did you catch her too?”
“We were all thrown in different directions. I couldn’t catch both of you, Angst.” She didn’t sound apologetic. “Can’t she fly?”
“Not without me,” Angst said in panic. “We’ve got to find her!”
There was the sound of rushing wind as the clouds roiled and rolled. Great pink wings pierced the cloud veil, lifting a very determined princess above them. Her teeth were set in a grimace of concentration, and her eyes and hands glowed bright pink. She was drenched, her hair matted, and her eyes filled with fury. The unicorn’s wings brushed away cloud vapor for a clear view of an angry young princess.
“I’m fine,” she grumbled.
“You did it!” Angst said in amazement. “I knew you could fly on your own! How did you—”
“I made it,” she said, glaring at Faeoris. “That’s all that matters.”
“I’m impressed,” Faeoris said with a nod. “Most would’ve died from a fall like that.”
“That’s not how I’m going to die,” Victoria said with conviction. She nodded to Angst. “Hop on.”
Faeoris didn’t fly Angst to the unicorn, and he didn’t know what to say, as if his tongue were caught between their glares.
“He’s safer with me,” Faeoris said before diving through the clouds.
Angst was certain he heard Victoria scream, “Bitch”, but it was hard to tell with the wind rushing in his ears. He actually preferred to be on a mount, to have something underneath him, but was in no position to argue. He couldn’t believe how fast they flew, as if racing away from Tori. He glanced over to see the unicorn flanking them closely. They approached the water, and he saw no sign of the beast below.
Victoria drew her swifen directly in front of Faeoris. Angst hung there, feeling more like a sack of old potatoes than a hero. Maybe he could swim for it?
“Give him to me now!” Victoria commanded. He’d rarely seen her so upset. Her pale cheeks flushed to her ears.
“After I’m convinced you know what you’re doing,” Faeoris said with a tsk.
She flew around Tori, rushing to the coast. Angst’s legs dangled freely in the wind as she held onto the openings under the armpits of his chest armor. She shot up into the air with Tori on her heels then dove steeply enough that his stomach lurched. Tori yelled a battle cry. They were wasting time, and he worried that, in spite of Faeoris’s strength, her grasp might slip. They’d gotten along so well in the domed city, this had to be concentrated frustration, and he needed it to end.
He could make out the remnants of Cliffview in the distance. Water’s first attack had eroded the foundation of the old city until it had fallen into the ocean, taking all the people living there to their deaths. It was tragic that they’d been killed well before their time, and it made him angry. Water had kept tearing away at earth until an enormous sinkhole formed, and then another, creating an enormous river that led to Unsel.
“Land over there.” He pointed at the cliff’s edge, where the inlet met the first sinkhole.
“There isn’t time for this!” Faeoris argued.
“Exactly!” Angst yelled over the wind.
She swooped low and placed Angst down roughly. He dropped to his knees and fell to his side. There was no heroic rolling wit
h two giant swords on your back. The unicorn swifen landed closely behind.
“I’m sorry,” Faeoris said, “it’s just—”
“Shush,” Victoria said, stomping forward to offer Angst a hand up.
“Don’t you shush me,” Faeoris snapped. “You’re the one who dropped him in the first place!”
Before Angst could get solid footing, Victoria let go to shake a fist at Faeoris, who looked ready to snap it off. Angst rolled to his stomach as they continued bickering and pushed himself up, his knees and hands sinking deep into the mud.
“The monster isn’t at Unsel yet,” he said, standing with a grunt and shaking mud off his hands. “But she’s got to be close.”
“She?” Victoria asked sharply.
“Only a woman would be that angry and bitter,” he said to both of them with the most sincere face he could put on.
As if on cue, the women’s backs snapped into a sharp arch, and they crossed their arms and raised their eyebrows. Both began cursing vehemently until they saw the smug look on his face.
“Finally,” Angst said. “You two are teaming up instead of arguing at each other like kids.”
They looked at each other warily. Angst gave them a moment until Faeoris shrugged and Victoria’s eyes flickered to the ground.
“You’re friends,” he said. “We’re all friends. Old, new, it doesn’t matter. I need you working together, or we’re going to fail.”
There was a long moment of hesitation; neither would apologize or admit to being wrong.
Angst Box Set 1 Page 120
