War of the Raven Queen: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 6

by Araya Evermore

  Magic exploded nearby, it wasn’t coming from their group, and the entire wall to their left shuddered. Everyone jumped back as stones cracked and splintered. A thunderous noise erupted as the wall and ceiling ahead collapsed onto the enemy. Issa dodged the falling debris, pulling Naksu with her.

  The thunder stopped. Daylight spilled through the cracks into the darkness. Well, it wasn’t quite daylight but the sickly red-brown light of this cursed land, Issa thought.

  A dragon roared, followed by the ear-breaking scream of a Dread Dragon. Giant, ice-blue claws smashed through the wall and ceiling and clawed the rubble out. More of the hallway collapsed. Through the tumbling stone, Issa glimpsed a Dromoorai raise its sword only to be catapulted into the air by an unseen force. She stared at the flailing Dromoorai disappearing into the sky. The enormous head of an ice-blue dragon appeared and then was gone.

  Morhork? She paused in shock. A howl from behind captured her attention. She whirled then dropped to the ground to avoid a Maphraxie’s swinging blade as another horde descended upon them from the other hallway. She screamed for help as two death hounds also ran at her.

  Bounding over the rubble rushed a clan of green and tan coloured Saurians. A spear slammed into the shoulder of her opponent, green feathers swinging. She nodded her thanks to Ekem as he wrenched his spear free.

  ‘The harpies have returned,’ he said and rushed on towards a Maphraxie.

  Now he’d said it, Issa could hear their cackles and feel their strange magic. She thought of her father and the venomous taste of revenge filled her mouth. She had to get out of these dark halls and fight them! Clambering over fallen masonry she went out the way the Saurians had come in.

  Outside was chaos. Bodies littered the ground—mangled death hounds, Maphraxies, Saurians, Karalanths, Feylint Halanoi, dwarves—both dark and light—and elves. The enormous body of a slain Dread Dragon lay on top of most of them, the massive wound on its neck still spilling watery blood. Its whole throat had been ripped out, by another dragon, thought Issa.

  Black and red blood slicked the paving stones of the large courtyard. Many walls had been torn down but still the outer walls remained, giving the place an enclosed feel. Destroyed stairwells stopped half way down or half way up, making getting to the higher ramparts difficult at best.

  Beyond the slain dragon and by the outer gate, the battle raged hottest. She thought she saw Ata, then beyond him, Grast’anth, then they were lost in a surge of Maphraxies. She started towards them.

  Necromancers—protected by shielding magic that most others could not see—clustered in high turrets and rained down shards of ice and fire. Dark dwarves battled alongside lumbering Maphraxies. Dread Dragons wheeled in the sky and harpies chanted, the screeching swoon of their words making her woozy. The howls and roars of rage and pain filled the air alongside the whoosh of arrows and clang of metal. The stench of death, of blood, of the undead and Sirin Derenax made her stomach churn, and upon it all the sickening feel of black magic moved.

  She scanned for Asaph, but her field of vision was dictated by the towering outer walls. He would be out there, somewhere, she prayed.

  ‘I’ll try to stop the necromancers,’ shouted Naksu over the din. Issa immediately worried for the slight woman who was wearing robes that were hardly fit for battle. Seer magic is not to be underestimated, she reminded herself.

  A harpy screamed, and Issa looked up. High in the sky circled one who did not attack, one who watched the battle from above, ordering her sisters to attack.

  The queen. Issa licked her lips and hunted for a high place she could get to. Ehka cawed. He was perched on the sconce on the outer wall. Beneath him were the remains of a staircase leading up to an apparently empty turret. She ran to it.

  The first few stairs were missing. She’d have to jump onto the edge of one and pull herself up. A black arrow thudded into the ground barely a foot in front of her. She dropped to her knees. A Maphraxie on the wall was already aiming another arrow and a dark dwarf had turned in her direction.

  The arrow never came. A golden shaft suddenly protruded from the Maphraxie’s neck. It convulsed, took a step forwards, then fell from the balustrade.

  Another golden arrow thudded into the dark dwarf running towards her. It pierced his leather armour with such force, the bloody tip burst through its chest. The dwarf dropped his axe and fell into a dirty pool of blood.

  ‘Issa, here!’

  ‘Velonorian?’ She scanned the chaos for the elf.

  There, on the ramparts with two other elves dressed in bloodied and shining armour, was the young elf-man waving his bow.

  A band of dark dwarves appeared above them on the higher wall, knives and axes raised.

  ‘Look out,’ Issa screamed.

  In a blur, Velonorian leapt like a gazelle, spun in the air and sliced his Elven dagger down. A dwarf fell without a sound, followed by the other two with arrows embedded in them. Maphraxies appeared along the wall and Velonorian was running with his elves.

  ‘I’ll cover you,’ he shouted, dodging the mace of a Maphraxie.

  Issa couldn’t see how he’d be able to fight and help her at the same time, but she nodded anyway. She ran and leapt. Her hands caught the edge of the lowest step. Grunting, she swung a leg up and heaved herself onto the ledge. She flinched as arrows whizzed past, chipping out chunks of mortar in front of her face. Glancing across, Velonorian and his elves were now engulfed in a battle against harpies as well.

  A Maphraxie jumped in front of her and roared before she was even on her feet. Her hand found her talisman before her sword and she wrenched it up, smashing it like a weapon into the enemy’s blade. Indigo light exploded, knocking her back against the wall and shunting the Maphraxie over the ramparts to the ground where its body lay crumpled and smoking.

  Two harpies fell beside it, golden arrows embedded in both. The elves were covered in blood, possibly theirs, possibly from the harpies, but probably from both. Issa hunted the ramparts for a way to get to them, but the wall had fallen between them and the gap was too big to jump.

  Her knees trembled before the Dread Dragon even screeched. It came low, the wind gusting as she fell to the ground. The amulet on the Dromoorai’s chest flared and whispering began in her skull.

  Issa roared against the dragon fear. With shaking fists she held her sword and talisman high. Now of all times, let that bastard see me! Her stomach somersaulted as she locked eyes with the Dromoorai.

  Fire spewed across the sky, blinding her. A golden dragon slammed into the Dread Dragon, hurtling them both out of view beyond the wall. Issa yelped with joy. Thank the goddess you’re alive! But her joy faded as a flock of harpies appeared.

  ‘Shield,’ Issa commanded.

  In the Flow, an indigo shield of energy flared around her. Ehka hopped to stand by her feet, not even trying to attack. Issa closed her eyes, stilled her mind and tried to ignore the hellish sounds of the battle around her. Harpy magic flared off her shield again and again, hard and relentless. Sweat soon trickled down her brow. Defending was not fighting, and she couldn’t keep them off for long.

  She gripped the talisman and the Voice came to her, echoing loudly in the stillness of her mind. She let it fill both her and the talisman, reached far away for the ravens, and spoke aloud, ‘Ravens, come to me.’

  Alongside her, Ehka also cawed, calling them. Through the dimensions they would come in all their wondrous numbers.

  Five black birds appeared immediately and circled around her. They must have been close to arrive so quickly. More arrived soon after, appearing in the air as they moved from all corners of Maioria through the dimensions, like the Saurians appearing through the veils of fae.

  A hundred ravens now filled the sky, wheeling and cawing around her.

  ‘Go,’ she commanded softly, but the Voice reverberated through her and echoed loudly.

  The ravens lifted up to meet the harpies and a vicious fight unfolded. Upon her shield, blood and black and brown fea
thers pattered. Issa filled herself with the Flow and with it, hunted for only one: somewhere up there was the queen. She clambered onto the wall beside the rampart and ran towards the turret. Heaving and scrambling she pulled herself onto the roof of the turret. The scene before her caught her breath.

  Diredrull stretched out around the central peak of a relatively low, yet wide mountain—a mountain crawling with Maphraxies and vast swathes of the armies of the Free Peoples. Beyond the outer wall, Morhork was locked in a savage battle against a grounded Dread Dragon and Dromoorai. The wingless dragon was covered in wounds and blood, yet he fought as one unmaimed, tail whipping and jaws snapping.

  In the sky above, Asaph struggled against another Dromoorai, whilst another hurtled towards him. The sky flared with their fire.

  Harpy magic slammed against her shield, destroying it and flinging her backwards. She staggered for balance, seeing the ground sway far below, and touched Illendri. The Flow moved, stabilising her, and she rebuilt a hasty shield. Black arrows pinged off it. Were Naksu and Velonorian still able to protect her? She couldn’t see them in the press of battle below.

  She focused on the Flow, letting the magic fill her until lightning flickered from her finger tips. Holding her arms up she screamed, ‘Dereever!’ The name of the harpy queen boomed into the sky.

  Ignoring the flock of ravens, a harpy split off from the rest. With a blood-curdling scream, she descended until the red amulet was visible on her chest.

  ‘Come to me, Dereever. Do you remember Thanon Bard? I have a message for you from him,’ Issa hurled the Daluni mind-speak at the bird-woman.

  Only a long, glee-filled cackle returned. Powerful harpy magic, filled and strengthened by the Under Flow, fell upon Issa. The battlefield disappeared as a strange, dark, magical world engulfed her. She could only feel rather than see that Dereever was there, up and to the left of her.

  In Issa’s hands, the Flow became a glowing indigo shaft. She hurled it high. A harpy screamed, then something smacked into her head. The dark, magical world shook, and she fell to her knees. Dereever cackled. Red magic flickered and Issa swayed, dizzy. She formed another shield.

  A strange groaning filled the air, as of words spoken by one in torture. The air turned thick and terror seeped into her heart. The Dark Rift was near—the power of it overwhelming. She shook her head, trying to think clearly, hunting for Dereever, readying for the next defence or attack.

  Black magic pulsed, shattering her shield. The harpy queen hurtled out of the dark, talons outstretched and gleaming, onyx stone shining on her forehead, matching her black eyes and fangs. She slammed into Issa sinking her claws into her shoulders and wrenching her from the ground. Issa screamed and felt hot blood trickle beneath her armour. The talons clenched viciously, Issa screamed again. Dereever laughed.

  The black magic fell away, along with the battlefield as Dereever lifted her high in the air. She couldn’t reach her sword through the pain in her shoulders. If she changed into a raven now, Issa doubted she’d be able to fly at all. She pulled on the Flow, but the harpy queen opened her talons.

  The jagged rocks of the mountainside rushed up to greet her. Illendri flared and the ground shimmered. Issa slammed not into rock but soft earth that caved gently inwards under her weight, as if the rock itself had turned soft and springy. Ignoring the pain in her shoulders, Issa rolled and unsheathed her sword. In her other hand she gripped Illendri. Dereever’s talons scraped the rock where she had been moments before. Issa jumped and hurled her sword, daring to let her weapon fly from her hands despite Grast’anth’s teachings of never letting go your weapon. She had a chance and she took it.

  Dereever moved fast but not fast enough. The sword missed her breast but sheared off the end of her wing before clanging against a rock. The harpy screamed with rage and flicked blood from her bleeding wing at Issa. Without her lead feather, the harpy queen could not easily get off the ground.

  ‘Your wings needed clipping, you bitch,’ Issa growled.

  Harpy magic slammed into Issa, taking her by surprise and rolling her into a boulder. Gasping, she grabbed her raven talisman with her free hand and heaved herself onto her feet. So, this is how it will end, she thought, raven queen against harpy queen, magic to magic. Had the fight not been on enemy-held lands, the power of her magic would be stronger, purer, and had the blue moon been closer, the fight would have already been finished. But here, she was at a disadvantage, the Flow was already weak, and the power of the Under Flow strong. Exhaustion gnawed at her, pain throbbed in her shoulders, and beyond the harpy queen lay her sword.

  Harpy magic flared. She fought it back, stepping first right, and then left, attacking just enough so she could inch her way towards her weapon. White fire flared from the harpy and she ducked, pretended to fall, and rolled to her sword. Whirling, she lunged at the bird-woman.

  Dereever hastily counteracted her blows with magic and talons. Issa was fast but her wounded shoulders ached terribly. She roared, slicing left and right in a fury, but talons knocked her blade away again and again.

  Tiring, the harpy finally moved too slowly, and Issa’s sword bit flesh. A talon flew off in a spray of blood. Dereever howled, and renewed her attacks, the pain maddening her into a rage.

  Claws raked Issa’s leg and wings beat against her. Issa stabbed and sliced, finding only air, then she tripped and fell onto the harpy. Neither were able to break their fall and they tumbled over a ledge. Together they rolled, slamming against rocks, sliding through crevices. Issa struck her sword whenever she could, still trying to kill her enemy even through their perilous descent. The harpy clawed back at her and hurled magic. Issa’s rage at what the harpies had done to her parents, to her father, burned strong and she didn’t care if she lived or died, so long as she took the harpy queen with her.

  They bounced and rolled off another ledge. Issa hurled herself into the air and stabbed at the ball of feathers. Her blade found home, she didn’t know where but the frantic struggles of Dereever told her it was a good spot. She twisted the blade, the harpy screamed, then they hit the ground. Her vision filled with blood and sky and rocks, then blackness.

  Noise returned first; a kind of rushing sound, followed by an immense pain that radiated from her shoulders downwards throughout her whole body.

  Her wrist grew hot – Ely’s bracelet and healing powers making itself known. Slowly, Issa lifted an arm and winced. Her shoulders ached deeply but there was no break in the smooth material of her Dread Dragon armour; it had already mended itself. Her shoulders would take longer.

  She prised open her eyes and stared up at the muddy sky. She lay at the base of Tarvalastone Mountain, and the ongoing battle was now at least half a mile away. To her left lay an unmoving mound of feathers. Dereever!

  Ehka landed beside her and cawed. Issa rolled onto her side and almost vomited as pain radiated through her body. Slowly, her head pounding, she got onto her hands and knees and crawled to the bloody mound of feathers.

  Dereever’s once pretty face was now, sickeningly, smashed in on one side, and Issa’s sword was embedded in her stomach. The red talisman flared between her blood-smeared breasts. Grimacing, Issa grabbed it, and burning heat exploded in her hand. She wrenched it from the harpy queen’s neck and held it up, ignoring the heat as she glared into its blood red surface.

  ‘This and more,’ she growled and filled herself with the Flow. Holding her head back she screamed, ‘Aralansia!’ and poured the Flow into the amulet. Blue magic exploded, and the amulet shattered. She watched the shards scatter upon the ground then turned away to look towards the city. She didn’t have the strength to even walk half a mile, let alone fight when she got there.

  A dark cloud passed overhead. Issa moved and wrenched her sword free of Dereever. Looking up, she almost fainted when she saw Asaph gliding down towards her. She tried to control the tremble in her legs and failed, sinking gracefully onto her haunches.

  Asaph listed to the left. His wing was crooked, and bloo
d smeared his golden sides red and black. Without landing, he deftly scooped her into his front paw. The gentleness with which he held her despite his size was still a source of wonder.

  ‘Are you injured?’ he asked, beating his wings and turning towards Diredrull.

  ‘Bruised and battered, mostly. I don’t think I can lift my sword again today, though I want to.’ Issa touched her aching shoulders. She wanted to fight alongside the others, perhaps she could still use magic.

  As they passed over Diredrull the sheer scale of the battle was revealed to her. It still raged in the enormous courtyard where several more walls had collapsed, and fires ravaged many parts. Ravens still fought harpies but now in scattered pockets. Occasionally, Elven arrows assisted them.

  ‘The goddess only knows what’s going on underground,’ Issa breathed.

  ‘The Dwarves of Light are fighting their dark brethren beneath their great city,’ said Asaph.

  ‘Look, there’s Morhork,’ said Issa, pointing.

  The blue dragon was on the ground atop a collapsed wall and turret, surrounded by Maphraxies, their shining black armour making them seem as ants beside the enormous dragon. He swiped his tail at a horde sending scores of them into the sky. They crashed onto their comrades and many did not get up again.

  She scanned the skies for Dread Dragons but couldn’t see any. A shimmer of magic came from the gatehouse at the East Gate. She entered the Flow but could see nothing. Cloaking magic, she thought.

  ‘Go there, by the gatehouse.’

  Asaph nodded and turned towards it.

  Issa held up her talisman. ‘Fire,’ she commanded.

  A ball of blue flames smashed into the gatehouse, revealing the invisible dome. The dome flickered, then collapsed, revealing four necromancers huddling beneath it. Pale faces looked up in shock. They raised their hands, but before they could use magic, Issa blocked them. Asaph roared and swooped showering them with fire. Their howls of pain died in the roar of flames. Asaph lifted up.