Reign of Ash

by Meg Anne

  Micha took a steadying breath, letting his eyes briefly rest on the others and offering a quick prayer to the Mother that they would still be standing when the day was done. He may not be able to join them on this killing field, but he could fight in his own way. Without a word, he turned and started toward the place that had once been his home.

  Ronan watched Micha’s retreating back, the calm that always preceded battle overtaking him.

  Serena stepped up to his side, “Do you think he’ll succeed?”

  “Not a chance,” Ronan said with derision.

  “What about us?” she asked softly.

  Ronan slanted a glance at her, uncertain which us she was referring to. “That’s harder to say,” he answered neutrally.

  Serena let out a deep sigh, “I was afraid you’d say that. We’ve faced battles with worse odds and made it out relatively unscathed. At least we’ve got Helena on our side. That should help even the odds a little.”

  Well that answers that question, he thought without bitterness. “Indeed it will,” he agreed.

  “Ronan – I,” she started hesitantly.

  So they were going to have this conversation after all. “Serena, how long have we known each other?” he asked, wanting to make this easier for both of them.

  Her eyes were warm as she replied, “It feels like our whole lives.”

  He nodded, returning her smile, “And in all of those years, have I ever given you any indication that I want anything other than your happiness?”

  She blinked furiously and shook her head, silky blond strands flying wildly about her head.

  Ronan gave her a sad smile, lifting his hand to gently brush a rogue tear off her cheek, “Then if we make it through this, know that you have my blessing to follow your heart, wherever it leads you. Not that you need it.”

  Serena pressed her hand over his, holding it against her cheek when he would have pulled away, “You know that I will always love you?”

  He winked, pushing down the small pang her words caused, “And you know I will kill him if he hurts you. Being Von’s brother won’t save him.”

  Serena’s laugh burst out and she threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. Ronan held her, his eyes closing as he savored the moment, knowing it was the last time she’d be in his arms.

  There was a soft cough, and the two stepped away from one another. Nial stood there looking apologetic and determined in equal measure. “They are ready,” he said, tipping his head to indicate the others.

  Ronan nodded, squeezing Serena’s shoulder a last time before walking toward Nial. He stopped when he was alongside him, the other man stiffening slightly. Ronan dipped his chin until his eyes were level with Nial’s, forcing the other man to meet his icy gaze. “Treat her well, or you will deal with me. I don’t care who you are puppy, if you hurt her, I will destroy you.”

  Nial swallowed, but did not flinch as he responded, “I am glad that she has you to look after her, but you will never need to worry about her with me.”

  Ronan narrowed his eyes, slapping his hand on Nial’s shoulder, causing his knees to buckle under the force, “I’ll be the judge of that.” Ronan walked away, sucking in a harsh breath and letting his mind empty of everything but the fight ahead as he let it out.

  Kragen studied the barren scene, not liking how little coverage there was for their approach.

  “What are you thinking?” Darrin asked.

  “No matter what we do, we’ll be completely visible against the white of the snow. If she has any guards, they’ll spot us at once,” Kragen grumbled.

  Darrin contemplated the castle, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to think of a solution. His eyes cleared and he turned to Kragen with some excitement, snapping his fingers as he did, “What if we were able to make it harder for them to see?”

  Kragen lifted a brow, unimpressed with the words, “What do you think I’m trying to figure out over here? Which gift basket to send them?”

  Darrin scowled, “No, asshole. What if we combine our powers to create a fog. One that would obscure the land between us and the castle enough to mask our approach.”

  He lifted his brows as he considered the suggestion, “It could definitely work, although it could hinder us as well.”

  The blond man shrugged, “We wouldn’t need to see until we reached the castle, would we?”

  “Not unless someone was able to sneak up on us through the same fog,” Ronan interjected, having just reached them.

  Kragen nodded, “My thoughts exactly. What say you Joquil? Is there a way to control the fog, so that we could release it once we’ve cleared the land?”

  Joquil’s amber eyes assessed the landscape, “Perhaps. It will take the combined efforts of many of us to create that kind of weather. It could weaken us.”

  “I have read about entire armies using such a strategy in the past. They had a dedicated force purely focused on controlling the weather. That amount of power definitely takes a toll,” Timmins warned, having just joined them.

  The men eyed each other carefully. They were not lacking for power, any one of them more powerful than a handful of other Chosen, but the idea of weakening themselves when they were uncertain what exactly they’d be facing was unappealing.

  “Even still. It may be our best option,” Kragen rumbled.

  Ronan nodded his agreement while Serena pointed out, “We can always rely on our physical skills. We do train without our magic for a reason.”

  Joquil scratched his chin, “To create the type of fog you’re speaking of will require the use of four of the five branches: Water to create the moisture, Fire to turn it to mist, Air to disperse it, and Earth to ground it and keep it from simply floating off.”

  Nial cleared his throat, his face reddening as he offered, “I am a master of all four branches.”

  “What are you proposing?” Timmins asked.

  “I can make the elements work in harmony, while the rest of you are on the move. I—” he let out a soft chuckle, “I am the weakest fighter by far, I don’t think any of us would deny it. I simply do not possess the same level of skill as the rest of you. But this I can do, and would do, gladly.”

  The Circle digested the words. “It could work,” Joquil said, echoing Kragen’s earlier words.

  “It will require more power than you alone possess,” Miranda said, placing her hand on Nial’s shoulder, “but I can assist you.”

  Timmins’ blue eyes widened in surprise as he turned to the Keeper. She felt the weight of his stare and shrugged prosaically, “What? I am hardly rushing head-first into a melee. I have my power to offer as well, and I will do so. From here,” she added with a smirk.

  Timmins shook his head, while Kragen grinned, “So we have our ranged team in place.”

  Effie stood quietly to the side, looking small surrounded by the others. Tilting her chin up, she squared her shoulders and declared, “I will go with the rest of you.”

  Darrin spun to her in surprise, opening his mouth to protest, but Effie kept talking, “I have been training with Helena when she works with Kragen and Ronan and have demonstrated some skill with the staff. I may have no power to offer, but I will fight in the way that I can. Just as the others are. I did not come with you all to sit on the sidelines and watch. I came to help.”

  Kragen placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing in approval. Darrin looked like he had swallowed a lemon, but he did not argue.

  “Alright, little warrior,” Ronan said, “I will create a shield for you, it should protect you from most blows. If they get through it though, you run. No one will think less of you for staying alive.”

  Effie frowned, “I’m not a coward.”

  Ronan and Kragen turned to her with twin scowls. Ronan snapped, “Did you hear me say that you were? If you are going to be a part of the fighting force, when your Commander gives an order you obey it, or you don’t fight. Going rogue in the midst of battle could lead to death. Yours or your cil’virga.”

&nb
sp; Effie flushed and ducked her head. “Sorry,” she squeaked.

  Ronan tilted her chin up, “No need to apologize, little warrior.”

  She grinned, posture relaxing as Ronan stepped back.

  The group quieted, their eyes looking around as they mentally readied themselves. Ronan assessed his cil’virga, the Daejaran term for an elite military team. There was much to be desired in the way of their size, none of them expecting that this is where they would end up when they set out for Bael and the Keepers. They had gone in search of information, and at the time, it had made sense to have a smaller force for ease and speed while traveling. But the things that had been assets when they started could very well be what crippled them now; they may have started off on a rescue mission, but they were now heading into battle.

  Luckily the men and women surrounding him were some of the Chosen’s strongest and they were only facing off against one red-headed girl and her mother… And a potential army of Shadows. Ronan sighed. He’d faced off against worse enemies with less.

  “Let’s go,” he said finally.

  The fog was thick and completely blocked out the sky as they crept closer to the castle. It had an eerie effect, seeming to envelope them completely in a world of white. Ronan lost sight of all but those right next to him. As always Serena was at his right side, her silvery blonde hair now twisted in tight braids. Kragen took up the spot on the left, the spot that would have been his if they’d been following Von.

  It was odd; he hadn’t lead anyone into battle in years. Not since Von had been promoted to Commander and again when he broke from the military entirely to create his mercenary band. Von had always been the one to lead; he had been born for it. Ronan had no desire to lead. He was much more familiar with following orders than taking them, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t pick up the mantle with ease. There wasn’t much Ronan wouldn’t do to save the man that was the brother of his soul.

  Seeing the black stone of the gate, he held up a fist. The others halted around him. He waited until he could hear the sound of footsteps fall silent around him before he opened his hand toward the sky, releasing the flare that would let Nial and Miranda know it was time to let go of the fog. It moved lazily, floating away from him in wisps until he could start to make out all of the others. Before long there was a cool breeze and the fog lifted completely.

  Ronan let out a whispered “Fuck” when he saw what they had walked into. Spinning in a slow circle, he lost count of the Shadows that had surrounded them. The hunched and mottled gray bodies were completely still as they stared with dead white eyes, the black lines snaking through them all that was moving.

  “To me!” he shouted. The others reacted immediately, moving in tight and turning so that their backs were toward each other as they faced their enemy.

  There was a heartbeat of silence, each army assessing the other, until Ronan let out a fierce battle cry. Then there was nothing but chaos. Fire blasted out of his hand in an arc, setting four of the Shadows in front of him on fire. The rest of the Shadows moved inhumanly fast, the first of them jumping toward Serena. She swung her sword once he was airborne, the Fire and Earth enhanced weapon aiming true. There was a garbled groan and then a thump as the ghastly head flew from the body, covering them in its thick black ichor.

  Ronan quickly lost track of the others as he began swinging his flaming axes, cutting heads from bodies with each swing. He kept moving, knowing if they caught him, they would take him down. With each turn he’d catch a glimpse of one of the others. Kragen, taking on multiple Shadows at once, ducking and spinning so fast they could not touch him. Darrin running and sliding beneath a grasping hand so that he came up behind a Shadow, slitting its throat so cleanly, the head teetered drunkenly on its neck before tumbling to the ground. Effie was expertly swinging her staff, stunning the Shadows with her blows while Serena worked to finish the kill. Even Timmins and Joquil had a swath of bodies around them. Joquil was weaving powerful Water magic, freezing the Shadows in place and allowing Timmins to swing his mace into their frozen heads making them shatter into small gray shards.

  Around them, bodies continued to fall, but there was no end to the waves of mindless, soulless creatures. Ronan’s hands were growing slick with the black blood, his grasp on his ax slipping. It was a minute movement, but it changed the angle just enough that his blow did not land at the neck but instead bit into the shoulder. The Shadow grinned at him as it launched itself at him. Ronan swung again, but the missed blow allowed another Shadow to reach him. He felt the nails and teeth scrape against him, piercing his shield.

  Ronan grunted, pain flaring hot in his side as the poisonous blood made contact with his skin.

  Then Serena was there, making quick work of the Shadow at his side so that he could dispatch the one before him. There was barely enough time for a hurried “Thanks” before more filled in the empty space.

  Ronan couldn’t miss the look in Serena’s eyes as she braced for the next attack. It was impossible to say whether they had been fighting for hours or minutes, but the Shadows were relentless, and she wasn’t sure how much longer they’d be able to hold them off.

  There was a whimpered cry, and Ronan spun, seeing Effie go down under two of the brutes. Before he could move to assist her, Darrin was there, tackling them and knocking them to the ground. They were stunned just long enough for him to finish the kills. Effie blinked up at him with wide-eyed amazement. Darrin offered her a smug grin, before helping her stand and quickly dispatching three more.

  Ronan lifted his eyes, seeing Nial and Miranda in the distance, using blasts of power to distract some of the Shadows. They were so focused on the ones in front of them, they did not notice the handful that had crept up behind them.

  “Nial!” he shouted, using Air to reinforce the word so he would be able to hear it. Nial spun but went down under the combined attack. Serena had also spun at the word, and was already flying back across the field to his aid. Trying to buy her time, Ronan let out another blast of Fire, in an attempt to clear a path for her. It worked, at least long enough for her to get past them and start to make her way up the hill.

  Unfortunately, the Shadows closest to him, now on fire, were still coming at him, trying to grasp him with their smoldering hands. Ronan continued his deadly dance, but there were too many, and his cil’virga was spread too thin. Kragen was trying to work his way back to him, but couldn’t cover the distance in time. He knew he was in trouble when the searing heat of fire crept up his back.

  The pain was fierce and immediate, but Ronan only shouted, “It will take more than that to stop me!” and spun around, axes slashing into the ring of bodies around him, severing limbs and knocking them down as he did. But the damage was done. The remaining Shadows smelt his blood and began flocking toward him, grasping and pulling at him until he stumbled, falling beneath the writhing mass of bodies.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Micha let himself into the castle, making his way down the familiar halls unimpeded. Despite spending most of his formative years here, the place felt foreign. If not in appearance, certainly in tone. What had once been a warm, welcoming home, richly decorated in vibrant fabrics and colors, was now dark and distinctly oppressive. Not a single fire burned in any of the large hearths, and Micha shivered at the chill that permeated through the thick stone walls.

  His senses were screaming at him to get out, that this was not a safe place, but he forced himself to continue on. He was slowly working his way toward the back of the castle, toward the room his mother had often referred to as its center of power. Micha remembered loving the sound of that when he was young, as if the castle was alive and powerful, just like him. When he’d asked how she knew which room held the power, his mother had simply responded that there were certain places where the Great Mother was more present and if you were lucky you might find one. She told him it meant that they were very blessed indeed to have such a place in their own home. Given the recent turn of events, it seemed like
ly he would find her there.

  Micha continued to wander, ghosts of childhood memories haunting him with each step. He rounded a corner and stopped dead. “Gillian?” he whispered, staring in horror at the bloodied face of his twin.

  Gillian had been taking stumbling steps toward him, using the wall to keep herself upright. Deep purple bruises anchored bloodshot eyes that were all but swollen closed. At the sound of her name, her eyes shot up wild with panic as she shrieked, “What are you still doing here? Changed your mind and come back to finish the job?” Her voice was completely distorted due to her injuries.

  He frowned at her words and took a few steps toward her, holding up his hands in a placating way when she flinched. “Illy, it’s me.”

  Tears filled her eyes at the nickname and she collapsed to the floor, “I-ika,” she stammered.

  Micha moved forward, going to his knees before her. “It’s okay, I’m here now,” he murmured soothingly, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her gently into his chest. He couldn’t bear to see her suffering this way. Even though he’d been disappointed when he’d heard what she had been up to these past months, he couldn’t bring himself to stay mad at her. This was his twin and he would love her regardless.

  Gillian sobbed as he held her, whimpering over and over, “What have I done?”

  “Shhh, Illy. It’s alright. Everything will be alright,” he promised.

  “How can you say that?” she hiccupped, “The world is quite literally going to shit.”

  Micha chuckled at her words, “It just looks bad at the moment. You’ll see, we will get through this together.”

  “How touching,” an icy voice sneered from behind him.

  The twins froze, moving away from each other and looking up at their mother. She stood just behind them, arms crossed with lips set in a severe frown. She looked impossibly young, as if the years had been going in reverse, erasing all of the smile lines that were once etched into her beautiful face.