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

by Megan Haskell

  If it weren’t for the sidhe-appropriate height, Rie might have thought it was a barbegazi building. The pale white face with wide blue eyes and high pointed ears that peered out of the corner window proved otherwise.

  Rie scowled. Just what she needed: innocent bystanders within reach of a wicked soul bent on her destruction.

  A wide stone avenue, slick with snow and ice, separated Rie from her quarry. That, and the pair of wolves plus a perimeter of guards. The general was well-protected. He glared at Rie through the veil of his defenses.

  Rie checked the magical plane, searching for any sign of the dual-soul nature that Judith believed he possessed. As soon as his aura came into view, the truth was obvious. The original soul was slowly being suffocated, the cool clear blue of his energy blanketed by a gray film that squeezed and twisted the life out of the body. Though she couldn’t see the souls themselves, Rie knew without a doubt that the original soul had been strong enough to withstand being ejected from its mortal trappings by the invader, but not strong enough to resist the lure of the wicked soul’s desires. The original soul was being manipulated and changed.

  Now, the body that was once Maethor, snapped its teeth and pointed its sword at Rie. A spear of ice shot toward her. Rie sent heat into the water even as she dodged out of the way. The icy projectile exploded into a heavy mist, moments before reaching the space Rie had occupied.

  Another projectile—this one aimed at Daenor’s back—followed the first. Rie’s magic wasn’t fast enough to intercept this one, but Daenor was. Almost without looking, he twisted his flaming sword in the air, cutting the icy shaft through the middle while he bowed from the waist. The two pieces split apart, sailing harmlessly overhead.

  The face in the window disappeared. At least that was one less body to worry about for the moment. They would still need to get Maethor away from the building and out into the open. Rie needed to get close enough to touch Maethor, and Judith needed space to swing her giant sword without risking collateral damage.

  “Where is Judith?” Daenor asked the question that had been poised at the tip of Rie’s tongue.

  The angel should have been here by now. Could something have gone wrong?

  A volley of arrows shot toward Rie and Daenor from the roof of a nearby building. Rie burned them to ash, shooting a fireball of her own toward their position. She didn’t have much fuel, but she had managed to gather a few small branches for ranged warfare, using them sparingly in cases when the opponents were otherwise out of reach.

  An unnatural gust of icy wind blasted Rie in the face, sending her skittering backward into Daenor, who caught her with a hand on her waist. Together, they turned to face the new threat.

  The pounding of footsteps followed the path of the wind, a squadron of at least twenty frost sidhe men and women running up the street toward them. Some wore the armor of the frozen army, others were dressed in simple leathers and furs. All wore expressions of deadly intent.

  The beating of wings in the air, followed by the scattering of snow, and Judith landed between the new force and Rie’s position.

  Rie grinned. These weren’t enemy combatants, as she’d feared, they were allies. She turned her gaze back to the general. His eyes had grown wide, and his mouth moved with words Rie’s couldn’t hear. His head twitched to the side, then back.

  A few of his guards looked over their shoulders at their leader. Their brows furrowed and frowns turned down the corners of their lips. Whatever he was saying, it didn’t seem to give them confidence.

  The leader of the eccentric mix of frost sidhe behind Judith stepped forward. The muscle in his jaw twitched, and his gaze never drifted from the possessed leader of the frost sidhe.

  “Look at him,” he murmured. “What is he doing?”

  Maethor’s head turned from side to side in a rapid twist that had grown even more pronounced in the last moments. His mouth moved and spittle flew from his lips. The guards wearing concerned expressions rose from their ready stances and stepped away.

  “What’s happening?” Rie couldn’t hear anything over the rumble from the mountain.

  Which reminded her, time was limited. The barbegazi had given them just half a bell before the wall of snow reached them. Half that time was already gone. They needed to be inside the tunnel before the city was buried.

  Rie’s hands tightened on her knives. “It’s now or never.”

  With the wolves so close and involved in the battle, she couldn’t read the future. She didn’t know the best action for the best outcome. She was running blind. But she’d had a lifetime of experience going with her gut instinct and she trusted it wouldn’t fail her now.

  She raced forward, Daenor and Aegasson quick on her heels. Judith launched into the air. Rie pushed all possible speed into her legs, letting her subconscious mind direct her steps. Ice spear after ice spear sailed in her direction. Rie ducked and dodged, staying out of the way, not bothering to interfere or intercept.

  The first guard’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

  Rie used a pile of debris as a launching pad, springing up into the air and twisting over the guard’s head. Her khukuri sliced out, finding a seam in the plate armor. Damage, not fatal. She landed inside the circle.

  Another sword swinging toward her unprotected neck.

  Rie turned, ducked under the blade. The frost sidhe wielding the weapon bared his teeth at her in a vicious snarl, sanity having fled his gaze. Twisting her body, Rie coiled for her next strike, blades whipping out in a centrifugal motion that added speed and momentum. The soldier brought his weapon back up just in time, deflecting the weighted blow from Rie’s knives. He threw an elbow into Rie’s solar plexus, knocking the wind out of her lungs and sending her staggering backward several steps.

  The soldier lunged forward to pursue, but Daenor was there, his sword lit with blue flame. He stabbed straight through the leather and silver plate, his sword melting through the layers to reach the spine. The soldier was stopped in his tracks, head and arms falling forward with the force of the blow. Daenor twisted to the side, bringing his weapon up at an angle. Cauterized from the heat of the blade’s passing, the man’s waist gaped wide, his internal organs no longer attached to the rest of his body.

  “Buka will prevail,” the man gasped.

  Rie touched his foot where he fell. A flash of fear and torment, darkness and despair. He was a wicked soul. The reapers wouldn’t be coming for this one. Concentrating on the soulstrings, Rie snapped the final lines with a thought and sent the miserable creature back to the Hollows where he belonged.

  Rie sought the magical plane, viewing the dim gray auras of the formerly damned. Every single one of the remaining soldiers on Maethor’s side of the field had been possessed at the Battle of the Arches. The rest had either fled the battle at the first shaking of the earth, chosen to leave their warped and twisted commander to his fate, or lay dead or dying in the snow.

  Already engaged with another of the soldiers, Daenor spun his way through the fatal steps of the battle dance. Aegasson and his mages stopped the magical attacks before they could materialize. Judith fought on the rooftop, her wings giving her the ability to move from building to building without losing her ground.

  Rie allowed herself one single heartbeat to regret the innocent lives lost, then set all emotion aside. To save the rest of this realm, she had a job to do.

  Rie found her feet and began moving toward Maethor. Another frost sidhe lunged from the left. Rie lit the fur he wore around his collar on fire with a thought. The man screamed, his hands coming up to slap at the blaze around his throat. With a quick step into his range, Rie sent his twisted soul back to the Daemon Realm where it belonged. The empty shell of a body dropped to the ground, unmoving.

  Rie surrendered herself to the battle, letting her subconscious mind direct her movements. Duck, spin, slice. Another wicked returned to the Hollows. Roll, stay low, block a strike, kick the knee, man down.

  She lost her cloak somew
here in the mess, the buckle releasing its hold. No matter, the heat of battle was on her, the cloak unnecessary. Her black amlug leather armor steamed in the cold, khukuri knives glowed with the imbued magic of their enchantments. Few warriors still stood with Maethor, and those that did were grinning with their own bloodlust.

  Step, twist, dodge. Reverse grip downward slice through flesh to bone. A touch to the arm and the soul was gone.

  Aegasson stepped up to Rie’s left shoulder, his aura frigid with the crystalline reflection of the ice in his magic. Daenor stood to her right, his heat penetrating the cold even from a distance. Only the wolves stood between them and Maethor, whose gaze seemed poised to send more icy daggers in Rie’s direction.

  “Kill them,” Maethor commanded the wolves, pointing at Rie with a bony finger. “Take their magic and rend them limb from limb.”

  The wolves stepped forward, their snarls audible even over the clash of weapons, and the gale and blaze of elemental magics.

  “What are you, glorified attack dogs?” Rie taunted the wolves. She spun her knives in casual preparation. “Will you respond to every whim of your frost sidhe master? Play fetch and drop his slippers at his feet?”

  The growls grew louder while the ruff around their necks puffed out in an aggressive display of dominance.

  “Would you serve the frost sidhe, as the barbegazi have done? Let them rule over you?” Rie continued. She knew that wasn’t entirely fair to the barbegazi people who had only sought peace and security, but the comparison to their enemy might sway the wolves against their current course.

  Black Sock remained poised for a fight, but Lil’s head came up, her eyes narrowed. Though her lip still curled, the snarl was subdued and her ears turned in thoughtful consideration.

  Had Rie influenced the small female? Was she rethinking the wisdom of the pack?

  “I order you to kill her now!” Maethor shouted.

  While Lil hesitated, Black Sock lunged, his lips pulled back in a snarl. Rie parried with the flat of her blade, slapping his muzzle out of the way with her left hand as she sliced across his neck with her right. Fur flew, no blood.

  “For Niinka!” Gikl shouted in his bell-like voice. He launched himself from his hidden position on Daenor’s vest, arrowing directly into the wolf’s black and gray fur. Hiinto and Possn were close behind. Where Rie’s blades had missed the skin, the pixies wouldn’t be deterred. No more than three heartbeats later, blood sprayed in a wide arc from the wolf’s neck. Rie didn’t wait to see what else they would do to the creature that had killed the leader of their swarm. As much as she wanted to witness pixie justice, Rie had more pressing concerns.

  She sprinted forward, rushing toward Maethor with his blade of ice. Lil stayed out of the fight, turning for the gap in the wall and the freedom of the mountain. A small corner of Rie’s mind prayed she could outrun the avalanche coming toward them. The rest of her attention focused on the enemy before her.

  “Judith!” Rie screamed, calling in her ally. Their orders were to send this soul to the nothing, to keep him from causing further damage to the Hollows or any of the nine realms. The nine realms would be watching. She wouldn’t let him escape.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  JUDITH SPUN, KNOCKING the archer from his perch on the wall with the well-placed blade of a wing.

  “Judith!” Rie shouted from the ground below.

  The woman was sprinting toward Maethor, the way momentarily clear, Daenor and Aegasson fast on her heels. But to defeat Maethor, to complete their mission, Rie needed Judith’s sword. Steel alone would not send his soul to the nothing. Even the enchanted blades the other warriors carried wouldn’t harm the wicked creature sitting inside the frost sidhe’s body.

  With two quick steps, Judith launched herself off the building, diving down in a direct line to the general.

  Maethor’s neck twitched, bending at an odd angle. His face contorted into a visceral grimace that showed too many teeth for the humanoid form. His hands shot out, palms facing outward. A wall of ice exploded upward in front of Judith. She pulled up, but she was going too fast. She hurtled headlong into the solid construct. Her body crumpled to the ground, stunned.

  Shaking off the shock and the bruises, Judith looked up at the wall. The ice rose high into the air, gusts of wind carrying swirls of white from the surface. Judith leaped, pushing her body straight up with great downstrokes of her wings. The wall kept growing, outpacing her efforts to rise above and over the edge.

  Eventually, Maethor would run out of sky, but there had to be a better way to reach him. Judith circled around, taking the larger view. The wall rose in a semi-circle around Maethor. It separated him from the rest of the world, but he had nowhere to go. There was no retreat unless he could jump three stories in a single bound.

  Unless . . . there was a chance he could raise himself up on the same ice he used to block their view, similar to what the barbegazi had done in the mountain pass. Could the wall simply be a distraction, not a last-ditch defense?

  Judith swooped to the ground. Daenor pressed his sword to the wall, using the heat of the flaming steel to melt the ice and cut his way through. Rie glared at the wall with furious intensity, as if she were trying to melt the ice with her mind. If so, it wasn’t working.

  Aegasson glanced over his shoulder as Judith landed. “The coward refuses to fight. But his time will come. He can’t hold the wall forever.”

  “He doesn’t need to,” Judith replied. “He’s going to go over the city wall on the other side.”

  All three heads snapped in Judith’s direction. Her nerves jangled, but she held her ground. She was sure she was right.

  “If he can build a wall like this in an instant, he can certainly lift himself over the lower city wall on a ledge of ice and snow.”

  “Where is he getting the fuel?” Daenor asked.

  A rumble like a fast-approaching stampede of animals had them all turning toward the sink hole and the gap in the wall.

  “Our time is up,” Rie proclaimed. “Into the tunnels, now!”

  There was no chance Judith was going back underground. While Rie and the sidhe sprinted toward the sinkhole and the hidden escape route beneath the city, Judith lifted into the air. As she crested the city wall, her eyes widened. A wall of snow raced toward them, dwarfing the surrounding buildings and shattering anything and everything in its way. The barbegazi had said they would bury the city, but their explanation hadn’t been forceful enough.

  This was a killer. This was the hand of Perses, reaching down to brush the city away. It was like watching the end of the world.

  Judith prayed to all the gods, asking for speed to bring Rie and her comrades to safety, even as she pushed herself higher into the sky.

  The snow reached the sinkhole first. Amazed, Judith watched as Aegasson lifted a single hand toward the avalanche while still running, two of his warriors doing the same. The snow rose up in a dome over the hole, as if propped by a clear glass wall. It gave the team another breath to jump into the hole and escape underground.

  Relieved that the sidhe were safe—or at least safe enough for now—Judith pumped her wings. She knew exactly when the frost sidhe released their hold on the ice, for the snow suddenly poured over the hole like a wave breaking over a rocky beach.

  A cloud billowed up from the ground, clumps of snow and ice pluming into the air. The cracking of ice was deafening. Entire buildings crumbled beneath the weight of the mountain’s offering. Judith rushed to get above the destruction, angling away from the leading edge of the flow, but the taller buildings were in her way and the cloud rose hundreds of feet into the air. Soon surrounded by the airy plumes of the avalanche, she couldn’t see anything around her. All she could do was push herself ever higher, trusting the strength of her wings to carry her out of the white nightmare.

  Breath burning through her lungs, Judith threw the last of her reserves into the power of her wings. Gaining a few dozen more feet of altitude, she was finally clear
of the threat. She circled above the city, horrified. At least half of the frost sidhe buildings were knocked over or completely covered by white powder. She prayed once more, that any innocent civilians left in the city had been spared, or at least had the means to survive or escape the devastation. They were frost sidhe, after all.

  Turning with a final sad glance at the crystalline edifices now in ruins, Judith headed out over the plain to find the wayward wicked soul who thought to avoid the Moirai’s justice.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  RIE JUMPED DOWN into the sinkhole, awed by the power of Aegasson and his frost sidhe mages. Together they held back the edge of the avalanche, preventing the snow from rushing into their escape hatch before they did. She didn’t pause, taking the drop in stride and sprinting away from the opening. Their power was impressive, but the power of the avalanche was much greater. Eventually, the barricade would fall.

  Though the initial sinkhole cavern was larger than expected, the subsequent escape tunnel was not. The barbegazi hadn’t had the time—or probably the inclination—to expand the tunnel for their larger-sized guests. As the ceiling dropped and the floor rose to meet it, Rie was forced to crouch, running bent over at the waist, hands brushing against both walls for support. At least this tunnel wasn’t as small as the escape hatch they’d used out the northern gate when they first arrived.

  She hustled down the passageway, Daenor, Aegasson, and the rest of the frost sidhe close behind. As soon as the masters of the ice released their hold, the entire sinkhole filled in behind them. There was no turning back now.

  “What is this place?” One of the female frost sidhe asked.

  Rie had forgotten that the frost sidhe didn’t know of the existence of the underground tunnels. She hoped Felman and Vegard weren’t too upset that their secret was exposed. After all, Aegasson was helping them defeat Maethor and Fenrir.