by Meg Anne
“Have you heard?”
“I have, My Queen.” There was a bland sense of disinterest in his voice that confused her, but she was too elated to care.
“Ready the men. We leave for Endoshan before nightfall. It is time to go meet my finest creation.”
His dark slash of a brow lifted. “Your creation, My Queen?”
Rowena’s smile hung frozen on her lips. “You doubt me?”
“Never, My Queen. I simply do not understand.”
That Rowena easily believed. Her smile grew, although now it was tinged with a familiar icy cruelty. “It would seem my pet has discovered my gift. Her acceptance is a most welcome sign.”
Kai-Soren shook his head. “I do not follow.”
Rowena sighed. He was really taking the fun out of this for her. “You don’t need to. All that should matter to you is the Vessel has been shattered. She is ours to use as we please. Don’t you know what this means? Elysia and the Chosen are mine.”
Her husband looked like he wished to say something more, but apparently he had finally learned his lesson because he simply gave her an empty smile and bowed. “Very good, My Queen. I will make sure the men are ready for our departure.”
His lack of excitement didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be around much longer anyway. Not now that she had what she needed. Once she claimed what was rightfully hers, Kai-Soren would be nothing more than an unpleasant afterthought.
Rowena had to admit she was impressed. She knew that the Vessel would be helpless to resist the pull of her little present, but she hadn’t quite expected this. There was no denying that her newest ally was a powerful one, and much more valuable than a full team of Generals. With the kind of power the Vessel was putting off, the need for Generals was obsolete.
Rowena felt a flicker of relief. Considering she had never gotten around to replacing the last two, that was welcome news.
The mounds of corpses made it hard to traverse easily across the land, and the sky continued to rain down blood and ash. The slaughter was absolute. Rowena had thought the messenger said that the Chosen were being turned before they died, but it would appear the Vessel had gotten tired of building her own army. No matter, between the two of them, there were more than enough Shadows already.
She smiled in delight. “If it wasn’t already obvious, let us reinforce our victory with a bit more destruction, shall we?” Rowena whistled, calling for the two Talyrians she had managed to turn the last time she had faced off with the Chosen.
Mother of Shadows indeed. Not only did she have the two beasts, she now owned the Vessel as well. The Mother may have spat upon her when she withheld her greatest gift, but it didn’t matter anymore because Rowena had fought for, and taken, all that should have belonged to her by right. This victory proved that none were her equal. The Chosen would be obliterated, the entire race replaced by a people of her creation. She would be revered and worshiped for the rest of time.
Rowena could feel the air shift behind her as the wings of the beasts pushed through the blood and ash. Even with the limited light, their bodies cast shadows on the ground below. A figure standing in the middle of the carnage twisted, finally taking notice of Rowena and the army at her back.
Her smile grew as recognition dawned. It was the Mate, or what had once been the Mate. Rowena laughed, it would appear the Vessel had finished what she had started. She still had not seen any sign of her once opponent, but any vestige of doubt that might have remained about the truth of the messenger’s words fled at the sight of the twisted figure before her.
She did not require any further proof that Helena’s corruption was absolute. That didn’t mean she didn’t want to drive the point home to completely shatter what was left of the broken army that still hoped to oppose her.
“Destroy him,” Rowena commanded, her voice a gleeful purr. Rowena pointed toward Von, and the Shadow Talyrians wasted no time hesitating, purple jets of Shadow Fire spouting from their mouths as they careened toward their target.
Surely no other victory had ever tasted so sweet.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Helena’s hands were braced on the stone blocks that made up the watchtower. She watched the figures below with no more interest than one gave to an ant. The sense that she was forgetting something important continued to gnaw at her. It had started when the red-headed one grappled with her new pet, but she’d grown tired of watching and had called on her power to encase him in stone.
Her pet had been furious that she’d denied him the kill, but the act had released some of the pressure that had been building in her chest as the fight between them had carried on.
Shortly after, dozens of others had peeled away from the massive crowd gathered at the furthest edge of the field. Her pet had snarled and made like he was going to attack, and soon that nagging feeling rose again until Helena froze those men as well. And then the next. And the next, until finally everyone that remained had been encased in stone. It had taken no more than a thought and each body was a statue, frozen in a moment of time. As coated in blood and ash as they were, it was impossible to tell that they were no longer animated with life.
It didn’t matter. Nothing did. All she cared about was that the pressure in her chest eased once they were unable to act further.
Helena had no memory of how she got here or how long she’d been standing as still as one of her statues. She knew not what she waited for, only that she was, in fact, waiting. Time held no meaning. The sky remained a roiling mass of black clouds and lightning as blood fell from the sky. Day or night, it made no difference. The sky cast no true light, only an endless darkness.
She tipped her face back, opening her mouth to gulp the warm liquid, tasting the power and fury that drove the storm, and wanting to claim a part of it for herself. She could feel the magic roll through her, her body warming in response to its call.
A jet of color in the black of the sky caught her eye, and Helena’s head twisted toward the movement. Streaks of red and orange were growing larger as they arced through the sky. There was something familiar about the shape of them and the way they moved. Her head tilted as she struggled to remember the name for the flying creatures.
That was when she noticed them swoop low, diving straight for her pet.
The pressure in her chest that had dimmed with the statues, increased until she was gasping for breath. At the same time, she watched the creatures, now shooting purple flames from their mouths, creating a ring of fire her pet could not escape. Helena’s fury rose until she could hear her blood roaring in her ears. Two things happened simultaneously, making it impossible to tell which act triggered the other.
The tensioning in her chest broke and a snarling word was torn from her mouth as her body came undone. The word boomed across the sky, wrapping her inside of it as she was remade.
“MINE!”
The figures of stone began to crack, and the black clouds peeled back from the sky, revealing a blood-red moon.
Her body was no longer her own. Helena’s back stretched and arched as her battle cry echoed on. Her limbs lengthened, growing thick and corded with muscle until it was too hard to stand on only two feet. She fell forward, noticing the glistening black claws that scratched deep divots into the gray stone, as white fur that sparkled like diamonds began to sprout from her skin.
A weight at her back caused her to shake in an attempt to dislodge it, but as she shook, she felt the weight move with her. Wanting to ease the tension, she rolled her shoulders and saw out of the corner of her eye as she did, a massive golden wing tipped with shiny black talons unfurl.
There was no conscious thought, no sense of self or understanding. Only instinct and one truth that rang louder than everything else.
Mine.
Those foul beasts wanted what was hers, and she wasn’t about to let them have it.
Helena roared, pushing herself up until all four of her feet were balanced precariously on the edge of stone. There were shouts below and t
hen the sound of roars filled the sky, filling her chest with the need to answer the call. Tipping her head back she roared, blinding white fire flowing from her mouth to light up the sky.
She was not aware of what happened beneath her, other than the statues were frozen no longer. Now freed, they joined in her cries, adding their voices to the chorus.
She jumped from the ledge, trusting her wings to catch the air. This was no graceful dive, but a mix of physics and haphazard gliding. Her body may know what it wanted to do, but it did not mean she possessed any semblance of talent in this new, powerful form.
Luckily, she did not need to worry about landing. Helena made contact with the larger of the two creatures, her claws sinking into its decaying flesh as easily as parting butter. She held tight as her mouth opened on a furious roar before sinking her teeth into its neck and ripping back. The beast’s head was torn from its body and its wings beat once, twice, before stuttering and falling limp. She released her hold on the body as it began to tumble, not ready to go down with it.
Her wings were still outstretched, and she beat them hard to try and regain some height. The other creature turned its lavender eyes toward her, the snaking lines almost hypnotic. Wrong, she thought. This beast had once been majestic, but now it was tainted.
It opened its mouth, ready to spew more of its purple fire at her, but she lashed out with a claw, raking it across its eyes. The blow was so strong, it knocked the creature from the sky. She followed it down, not wanting to give her prey a chance to escape.
It tried to correct its descent, its wings pumping furiously, but she caught the sinuous length with her claws and pulled back, hearing a snap and then a furious roar. The wing tore from its body with no more effort than plucking a feather from a bird. It sped toward the ground, tumbling as it fell through the sky.
Helena felt her body stretch as it tried to close the distance between them. There was another roar, and a spout of hot flame before another beast, a white one with black wings and bright turquoise eyes, intercepted the orange body, savagely tearing it apart, flinging the broken pieces away before covering the broken body in cleansing flame.
Helena landed as best she could, her new legs stumbling under the impact. Her fury at the kill being stolen from her was replaced with respect as the other creature calmly stalked toward her. Helena felt the need to curl her tail between her legs. She did not want this one’s anger. She feared it but did not understand why.
She held perfectly still as a turquoise eye inspected her, feeling as though she was holding her breath the entire time. The feline was much larger than she was, although Helena knew that she was more than a match for her if it came down to a fight. She could feel the power rippling through her body even in this new form.
But it was not a fight the creature was interested in. After one long sniff, the other cat nuzzled against her and began to lick at her fur, cleaning away the remnants of blood and gore. Helena felt her chest vibrate with pleasure. Where she had once felt only fury and possessive anger, now she felt a tidal wave of love.
The remaining remnants of the illusion fell away, showing the truth that had been concealed by its darkness. What was left of it exploded in a shower of light. The land was green and whole once more, and the only bodies that remained were wholly alive.
Helena blinked, memories returning to her in a rush. She staggered under the weight of what had happened, shocked that she had lost enough of herself to the illusion that she hadn’t understood what was happening.
Von, entirely unharmed, ran over to the two Talyrian females, his hands raised.
“Helena?” he asked, his voice rusty. “Are you in there?”
She padded forward, eying her tiny two-legged Mate. Before she could pounce on him and claim him as hers in front of the others, a sharp wail had her hackles rising.
“NO! You stupid bitch, I have already won! You belong to me! You all belong to me!”
Helena snarled at the woman standing on the other side of the hill. Rowena.
This was not the time for claiming after all. There was still work to be done. She was the Mother’s Vessel; the Mother’s vengeance; and now more than ever, the Mother’s teeth and claws. It was time to fight.
Von had no recollection of what had happened after Helena had cast the final piece of the illusion. He had felt like he was suffocating, the pain of their bond being ripped away more devastatingly painful than he’d ever anticipated. It was like he blacked out, everything about him ceasing to be until just moments ago when he rose from a crouched position on the floor. He’d been surrounded by purple flames, but there had been a gap just large enough for him to launch himself through where the flames had not yet met.
He had seen the glowing iridescent eyes of the second white Talyrian and recognized his Mate instantly. Even in this form, she called to him.
The bond had returned in full force, but the messages it was sending were a chaotic jumble. He wasn’t sure if it was Helena’s new form, or if it was simply Helena herself. Needing to see for himself that she was okay, he’d ran toward the two Talyrians, slowing down once he was close enough to catch their attention.
Helena’s Talyrian gaze zeroed in on him, and he froze in place as a flood of energy zinged through him. He didn’t know what had changed, only that she had somehow tapped into even more power than she’d ever held before. Is that what had allowed the change? Or was it merely leftover power from the Chosen’s offerings? There were too many questions and no time to get answers.
A woman’s angry cry had them looking past Helena’s shoulder to the top of a hill. Rowena’s fists were clenched in her skirt and her face was twisted in an angry mask. She was furious at their betrayal.
Von smiled, his eyes glittering with malice while his Mate snarled, her Talyrian body posed for attack.
Rowena shouted more orders, but the words were unintelligible from this distance. Three dark figures moved into view, and Von zeroed in on his target. In order to end this once and for all, those three had to go down.
He heard the sound of hundreds of footsteps and glanced over his shoulder to see a confused army come into view. Ronan was at the head, Kragen and Reyna on either side of him. Ronan’s blue eyes were troubled and cautious. The others looked equally uncertain.
Helena had warned him that the others might fall victim to the illusion, but he hadn’t actually believed her. Since he himself had no recollection of what had happened, he just hoped nothing unforgivable had transpired.
“Von?” Ronan asked.
Von looked around, making sure he was still standing alone. “Who else would I be?”
“Thank the Mother,” Ronan said, rushing forward to wrap Von in a bone-crushing hug.
Von grunted but returned the harsh back slaps with a few of his own. “I take it there was some doubt for a while?”
“Just long enough to make me shit myself,” Ronan muttered darkly.
Von wanted to laugh, but the fear was still too fresh in his friend’s eyes.
“I’m sorry that we scared you. You understand it had to happen, don’t you?”
Ronan nodded, but the shadows lingered in his eyes. “Now is not the time for apologies. I’m just glad you are okay.”
The Circle fell into place behind him, their eyes rounded as they took in the sight of their Kiri.
“Do you think it’s permanent?” Joquil asked in a hushed tone.
“Nothing like this has ever happened before,” Timmins replied. “I can only hope for all our sakes that it’s not.”
“It’s not,” Von said firmly. There was no doubt in his mind Helena would return to herself once this was over, if not before. There was no telling how long the transformation would last, but he figured it would end once the excess power ran itself out.
There was another cry, and Rowena’s Shadows began to swarm the field while her Generals wasted no time wreaking havoc.
Von’s brows lowered, and he pulled his sword from its scabbard, running a ha
nd along its length to set it on fire. “Let’s finish this,” he roared, holding up his sword and rushing head long into the frenzied mob.
The final battle was at hand.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The three Generals split up, one moving straight through the center of the crowd, while the other two moved to each side. It was an unspoken agreement that the Chosen’s leaders would divide their main forces to counter the major threats, while the bulk of the army led by Timmins and Joquil would handle the Shadows.
Ronan and Reyna’s Night Stalkers peeled toward the left, heading toward a decaying figure that had flies buzzing about him and a trail of dead grass in his wake.
Kragen and the Storm Forged went right, moving to intercept a General that had called forth the water from a nearby stream and was sending wave after wave toward the Chosen gathered nearby.
For his part, Von followed the Talyrians who were chasing down a General whose affinity appeared to be Fire. More of the purple Shadow Fire danced in his hands. The Talyrians could fly far faster than he could run, even while using his power, so Von gave up the chase when he spied Kai-Soren spinning twin daggers in his palms.
Von’s mouth stretched into a sinister smile, he would do just as nicely. “Seems you chose the wrong side, Heir.”
“I did what was best for my people, Daejaran. Something I think you’d understand.”
“Turning on your people to save your own ass? No, I don’t think we have anything in common.”
Kai-Soren’s golden eyes narrowed at the dig. “That only makes this easier.” He flung one of the daggers, the silver metal glinting as it spun through the air. Von’s blade cut out to his side, knocking the dagger uselessly to the ground. Four more daggers followed in rapid succession, and Von maneuvered his blade just as fast, none of the poisoned daggers meeting their mark.
“That all you got?” Von taunted, pleased to see Kai-Soren’s left eye begin to twitch.
