Sanyare: The Winter Warrior (The Sanyare Chronicles Book 4)

by Megan Haskell

  Archers rushed forward. They chased the frost sidhe, pausing only to take aim. But the frost sidhe had bows as well, and many were just as skilled as their smaller counterparts. The barbegazi had the advantage of agility, while the frost sidhe had strength and speed. Chaos reigned.

  Now was Judith’s opportunity. She arched her wings above her back and dove. Icy wind streamed through her hair and tears froze in her eyes. She blinked, clearing her vision. The frost sidhe never glanced up, never saw her coming. At the last possible second she brought her feet forward in a kick that knocked the driver off the side of the sled.

  He gripped the reins as he fell, pulling the deer off course. The lead deer reared, and the rest of the team bucked and skidded to a halt. The sled crashed into the hind legs of the rearmost animal, careening to the side and rolling over the creature. The traces tangled. The deer screamed, their voices harsh and panicked as they rolled down the mountain.

  Judith flapped her way back up into the sky, circling for a better view. The animals—crying their pain and suffering—were half buried. At least one was dead, blood steaming in the ice. Another lay motionless with its neck at an awkward angle that didn’t bode well for the beast. The lead deer struggled to stand.

  The sled itself was turned on its side. Judith worried that Rie and Daenor might have been injured, even killed, but they were the most protected by sitting low on the floor of the contraption. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw movement in shadows, Daenor’s red-streaked hair shining in the light of the late afternoon. Rie pushed herself upright next to him, looking dazed with blood streaming from a gash in her forehead. But she was alive, and that was all that mattered.

  The guards had been thrown from the vehicle in its wild slide down the mountain. Unfortunately, the general managed to stay close. Now he jumped up, shouting commands and waving his sword in Judith’s direction.

  “Archers,” Maethor screamed, a mad expression transforming the frost sidhe’s face from that of a sane soldier to a blood-thirsty daemon. No one answered his call. They were either engaged with the halflings in white or already too far down the mountain to help.

  Judith dove again. She aimed for his head this time.

  He lifted his sword. A spear of white ice shot from the tip. Judith swerved out of the way. A second spear passed just above her right wing. She flinched, but remembering Eliphaz’s instruction, didn’t change trajectory. A third would have caught her in the hip, but she dipped to the side, feeling the cold graze the edge of her leather leggings. She stayed on target, avoiding the strike with the least possible movement.

  And then she was on him.

  He thrust the blade toward her belly, but she deflected with a boot to his wrist. Slid her leg over his arm and around, trapping his weapon hand. She wrapped her arms and legs around his torso, heaving him up into the air with great beats of her wings.

  Just three lengths above the ground, her wings grew heavy. Frost crept down her feathers and into the skin beneath. Ice crusted each barb. Her flight began to falter and her wings lost their rhythm. Grunting with effort, she gained another few feet before falling to the snow in a heap.

  She lost her grip on Maethor, who sprang to his feet with a snarl. He lunged, tried to bury the blade he still carried into her gut once more. She kicked him in the knee as she rolled away from the sharpened point, which buried itself in the snow behind her back.

  He cursed, collapsing onto his side, but he didn’t stay down. Using his sword as a crutch, he stood, balancing on his uninjured leg. Frost sidhe warriors with blades instead of arrows rushed to their commander’s side. Judith’s wings beat the air to loosen the ice and propel her toward the back of the sled as she ran lightly across the ice.

  Two of the pixies were hard at work, freeing Rie’s and Daenor’s hands from their rope bonds. They must have been hiding nearby, perhaps had already been working on the thick rope. But they were out of time.

  “We need to go!” Judith shouted. Grasping Rie’s khukuri blade from the rough leather belt she’d used to strap the weapons to her side, she sliced the remaining bit of binding from around her wrists.

  “Hey! I almost had it,” a tiny voice chimed.

  Judith didn’t have time to listen. She shoved Rie’s blades into the woman’s hands. Relief washed over Rie’s expression, the lines of tension smoothing away in an instant. But the frost sidhe were gathering. Already an arrow hit the ground at Judith’s feet.

  “Watch out!” Rie shouted, arm outstretched. A look of deep concentration passed over her expression.

  Senses pinging, Judith turned. A blade sliced down where her shoulder had been. She got her neck out of the way, but not her arm. The sharpened steel bit into the hardened leather bracer, cutting deep and drawing a trickle of blood from the skin beneath.

  Rie launched herself out of the sled, tackling the warrior to the ground. The knife slashed up, but Rie blocked, twisted the man’s arm up overhead. She pinned him momentarily, bringing a knee into his leather and silver-plate-covered stomach.

  Letting Rie deal with the soldier, Judith turned to release Daenor from his bonds, but the pixies had finished their task. His gaze was fixed on the field of battle.

  A circle of warriors protected Maethor.

  “The barbegazi can’t hold them much longer,” Daenor said, hand outstretched for his sword. Judith gladly passed it over.

  “This way!” Vegard sprayed the sled with snow in his hurry to stop. “We go to the cliffs. We can lose them in the mountain.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  GRIPPING THE HANDLES of the enchanted khukuri knives Garamaen had gifted her before naming her his apprentice and heir, Rie let the magic of their making take hold. Time seemed to slow. The blades wrapped their enchantments around her forearms, twining with her aura and enhancing her abilities. Within the span of a single deep breath, their healing power lessened the poison of Fenrir’s bite. She could almost feel the black tendrils being sucked down into the restorative energy of the blade and dispersed into the ether. The tension from the past few days, the aches and pains, and the exhaustion drained away with it. Even her injured shoulder felt better.

  The blades were weapons attuned to Rie’s hand, enchanted for her benefit, and Garamaen had ensured she would have assistance in healing. This moment was what these blades had been designed for.

  As the poison receded, Rie’s vision cleared and expanded.

  Time snapped back into place.

  “Watch out!” Rie shouted.

  The general flung his hand forward, releasing an ice bolt from the palm of his hand. Meanwhile, a soldier raced forward, a dagger extended.

  Rie threw her good hand up into the air, extending it palm forward as if to stop them all. She couldn’t stop the warrior from launching himself at Judith, but she could eliminate the ice bolt. Narrowing her gaze in concentration, Rie sent heat into the frozen water, forcing the molecules into motion. The icicle pointed at Judith’s back burst apart.

  At Rie’s warning, Judith turned. The warrior’s blade missed its target, but still gained a hit on the angel who had come to their rescue. Adrenaline rushing through her system, Rie launched herself at the man, tackling him into the snow before anyone had a chance to react.

  His blade made a wild swing at her face. Rie parried, slapping his blade away with her left hand as she made her own slice across his torso with her right. The steel of her blade met the silver-plate of his armor, doing little damage. The soldier countered with an elbow to her chin. Rie’s head rang as her jaw went numb. But she’d taken worse damage in the past and muscle memory was a good thing. Her right arm swung back across, this time finding the crack between helmet and chest plate with her khukuri knife.

  Blood sprayed across her face as the carotid artery opened. The soldier gurgled a scream, but his knife hand slipped free of her grasp. His arm swung back toward her. Rie flinched but knew it wouldn’t be enough to get out of the way. She was forced to trust the amlug armor to protect
her skin. Luckily, with rapid blood loss and limited oxygen to the brain, the soldier’s strike wasn’t as fast or as strong as it needed to be to cut through the dragon-hide.

  Ignoring the diminishing flow of blood that steamed and melted the snow in a thick pool around the warrior’s body, Rie leaned in, pinning his arms until finally, heartbeats later, they went slack.

  “The barbegazi can’t hold them much longer,” Daenor said.

  Rie’s gaze looked up from the gory mess in front of her, taking in the scene. The frost sidhe were regrouping around their leader. Lumps of textured white and silver littered the pass, the bodies of the fallen soldiers on both sides already blending with the snow.

  The temperature had dropped considerably in the last bell. Small snowflakes floated down from the sky in gentle contrast to the destruction on the ground.

  The barbegazi had teamed up against the frost sidhe who had ventured too far away from the sled and their leader, but they were quickly losing ground. Their small stature and limited armor left the creatures more vulnerable than the heavily armed and protected sidhe.

  If the frozen army had already lost forty percent of its forces in the Battle of the Arches, today’s skirmish would be catastrophic. She didn’t have time to analyze how she felt about that. She didn’t have time to feel anything.

  “This way! We go to the southern cliffs. We can lose them in the mountain.” It took Rie a moment to recognize Vegard, Felman’s grandson and future heir to the barbegazi leadership.

  “We’ll never outrun them,” Daenor said, defeat in his voice. Rie risked a glance away from the general to study Daenor more closely. Exhaustion and pain lined his features, his eyes slitted against the light of the Winter Realm sun.

  “I can fly with one of you,” Judith offered.

  “You’ll have to take Rie, then,” Daenor replied.

  “We’re not leaving anyone behind,” Rie declared. She would not lose anyone else. Niinka was bad enough, and Garamaen was trapped in Fenrir’s dubious care. Bren was supposedly safe, but she didn’t know where she’d been taken or who she was with. She would not lose Daenor too.

  Rie returned her gaze to the enemy. The general had both hands lifted, palms out and facing Rie and her team.

  What was he doing?

  A shift in the snow at her feet gave her an answer. Not a good one. Ice had crept over the corpse’s face, a layer that grew thicker by the moment. She tried to lift her foot, step away from the body that rapidly turned blue. Her foot refused to move. She heaved her leg upward. The ice didn’t crack. Instead, it crawled ever higher over her ankle and toward her knee.

  “Quickly! Move your feet. Don’t let the ice encase you,” she cried, warning the others of the general’s plan. It was an indirect attack that would trap them as surely as any chain.

  What they didn’t know was that her fire had returned with her blades.

  Melting the ice was—if not easy—at least achievable now. She sent her energy down into the crystallized water, breaking apart the bonds turning the solid ice into loose slush.

  When she could pull her boots out of the trap, she raced to Daenor’s side. Like Rie, he and the others couldn’t move. Worse, it had taken Rie so long to melt the ice on her own feet, Daenor’s legs were trapped nearly up to his knees. Judith had fared a little better. With Vegard’s help, they had already chipped one leg free, before it had frozen down to the sled, but her other leg was still solidly locked to the ground.

  “One of the harts is still alive and uninjured!” a younger barbegazi woman with a bow shouted, excited.

  It seemed the general had ignored the barbegazi, or maybe their bare feet were somehow immune to freezing, because none of them seemed to have been affected.

  Rie turned her magic to Daenor’s legs, melting the ice as quickly as she could while the frost sidhe continuously poured energy into the freeze.

  Meanwhile, the barbegazi woman slipped a small dagger from a pocket and cut through the sled’s traces, freeing the only animal that hadn’t been killed or severely injured in the crash. The terrified hart lurched upward, nearly bowling over the half-sized woman.

  “Shh,” she reassured, gazing adoringly into the soft brown eyes of the animal. “It’s going to be okay. You’re safe now.”

  “Onto the hart’s back,” Vegard ordered. “Both of you.”

  Judith’s wings flapped upward with a great gust of wind.

  Another ice spear shot in the angel’s direction. Daenor, gripping his sword in one hand, sliced the creation out of the air before it could reach its target. Judith lifted into the air.

  Finally free, Rie and Daenor raced to the hart who sidestepped and stomped under the gentle hands of the woman. Daenor jumped, clearing the great white deer’s back in a single leap. Rie needed an extra hand up. Daenor leaned down, right hand gripping the girth strap while his left hand pulled her up behind him.

  The hart snorted and stamped its huge cloven hoof, but otherwise didn’t protest their weight. To be fair, hewas big enough he probably could have carried Judith and two of the barbegazi as well. The chains still hanging from Rie and Daenor’s necks likely bothered it more than anything else. Rie grabbed up the links, at least keeping them from slapping the creature’s hide.

  As soon as they were seated, the young woman shoved the reins into Daenor’s hand and skated after Vegard as he raced for the mountain.

  A wall of ice and heavy snow rose up out of the landscape to block their passage.

  “Turn! Turn!” Daenor shouted, leaning his body uphill.

  Keeping her arms tight around his waist and the chains pressed between her stomach and his back, Rie lent her weight to the effort. The hart beneath them cut to the right, the movement so sharp Rie felt air beneath her seat. Squeezing her arms and legs tighter, she held on with sheer will.

  They raced along the edge, uphill and away from the general and his soldiers, but the wall was growing faster, curving back on them and herding them away from their destination.

  “This isn’t working!” Rie shouted over the freezing wind of their passing.

  “I know!” Daenor replied.

  Placing both hands on the grips of her khukuri blades, Rie willed the enchanted metal to bolster the reawakening magic trickling through her veins. Fire. Heat. Flame. She called the element to her, channeled it through her, and launched it forward with a thrust of her hand.

  It wasn’t enough. The heat would never melt the ice fast enough to break a tunnel through the wall. Her strength was returning, but slowly. Soon they would be fully encircled, unable to go anywhere.

  “Keep going!” Vegard shouted over his shoulder.

  Rie’s eyes widened. The ground began to shift, creating a rough stone ramp up to the ice wall. The frost sidhe had grown the structure long and wide, just tall enough to prevent the harts from jumping. It didn’t take much to give them the height they needed to make it over.

  Vegard ran up the small incline, jumped to the top of the wall, and over. The female was next. The hart followed without missing a step, springing over the wall with ease.

  “Keep moving,” Vegard urged, skating across the snow faster than should be possible. The urgency in his voice pushed them all to greater speed, the cliffs rising black and tall before them. Vegard guided them into the caves without hesitation. Judith dove in after them, landing with a slide of gravel.

  They came to a halt inside a cavern with a small trickle of water and smooth walls.

  “Brace yourselves,” the barbegazi leader warned.

  A crack of thunder, followed by a rumble that shook the entire mountain.

  Rie’s eyes widened. “What is that?”

  Vegard grinned. “Avalanche.”

  A heartbeat later and white snow poured past the entrance to the cave, sealing the party inside.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  RIE HUDDLED ON the floor, her head on her arms, her arms on her knees. A few of the barbegazi had taken up a guard position near the cave entrance, e
ven though the exit was blocked with a solid wall of snow. Everyone else was scattered around the space, asleep or lost in their own thoughts, including Daenor, who snored on the ground next to her.

  How had they gotten to this point? How had everything gone so wrong?

  The barbegazi had risked their lives to save Rie and Daenor when she was supposed to be helping them. They must have known something had gone wrong for Garamaen—that Fenrir had trapped them all. Despite their reluctance to fight, they were a brave people. Rie would be forever grateful. But had her failure doomed them all? So many lives had been lost already, and Fenrir was still free.

  Footsteps drew Rie’s gaze up from her melancholy. Judith sat next to her, wings tucked and crossed behind her to allow her to sit on the floor. For a brief moment, Rie was glad she didn’t have to deal with the awkward appendages.

  “We need to talk,” Judith began.

  Well, no kidding.

  “Why are you here?” Rie asked.

  Judith’s lips pursed and turned down in a frown. “It’s not my choice, but you’re lucky I was.”

  Rie’s breath blew out in a sigh. “You’re right. Thank you for coming to our rescue. And for bringing back my knives.”

  She patted the hilt of the khukuris safely ensconced in their thigh sheaths. They’d been working their magic on her for the last two bells, leaching the poison from her blood and healing her body.

  “I’m not sure how we would have gotten out of there,” Rie added.

  “With the state you are in, I don’t think you would have,” Judith replied. “Speaking of which, how are your tiny friends?”

  Rie had tucked Gikl and Hiinto—the pixies Daenor had saved—into the warmth of her body heat, wrapping them against her skin with her cloak. She’d done her best to boost their healing, but she wasn’t trained in the art. The best she could do was help speed their bodies’ natural process. But they breathed and clung to life, so that was something.