by Laura Legend
Cass and Zach, though, were still sliding toward the cliff’s edge themselves, inertia carrying them toward the same fate. Seeing the problem, Cass squeezed Zach’s hand hard and jammed her other hand into a crack in the rock face. Zach still tumbled over the edge, but both of Cass’s hands held fast, daisy-chaining Zach to her.
Zach, dangling from the edge of the cliff, called up to Cass.
“Thanks, sweetie,” he called weakly. “Can I come back up the rest of the way?”
Testing her strength, Cass pulled him back up with one arm. They lay in each other’s arms for a moment, catching their breath.
“Wow,” Zach said with genuine admiration, squeezing Cass’s bicep. Then he struggled to his feet, retrieved the axe, and rang the ancient bell. Striking once, twice, three times, until his own arms and head rang in synchrony.
The sound of the alarm filled the valley, echoing from one end to the other.
Almost immediately, other bells began to sound at the monastery itself, distant shouting filled the night, and a series of watch fires burst into flame along the ramparts of the monastery wall.
Zach stood with axe in weary hand, looking out over the valley, watching the compound come to life. Cass joined him.
Then Cass’s hand moved to cover her mouth in horror.
Somehow, the scouts’ information had been horribly, impossibly wrong. This was not a partial force meant to probe the possibility of recovering relic. This wasn’t even a group that was gathering its strength and slowly building its numbers.
In the light of the watch fires, it was clear that the vampires they had seen so far were latecomers rather than an initial rush: an enormous horde of Lost vampires was already bearing down on the gates. There was no way those gates would hold.
The monastery would be overrun.
They were too late.
14
CASS AND ZACH sprinted down the mountainside. But the battle was well underway before they arrived.
By the time they broke out of the forest and onto the valley floor, there was screaming and blood and fire everywhere. Chaos reigned. Many of the Lost were half out of their minds, swamped by fear and hunger. With some of them, you could even watch—as if in time-lapse—as ferality crept up their spines and seized full control of their heads.
They were crawling up the walls of the compounds and hammering at the gates. Too many of them to count.
“What madness is this?” Cass whispered as they stood at the edge of the fray, trying to decide where would be most helpful. Zach choked back tears and squeezed the handle of his axe, white-knuckled. This had been his home. Cass felt her weak eye burn, fueled by a fierce anger that rose from deep in the pit of her stomach. Wisps of white fire curled from her bare hands.
“No,” she said weakly, “no, no, no. Not now.”
“There,” Zach said, pointing to one of the nearest gates where Dogen was positioned. All around him, Shield soldiers were falling. Dogen, though, was trying to clear some space. He picked up a log like a baseball bat, cast a spell that had it glowing green, and began to swing it in widening arcs, clearing ground and sending vampires flying in every direction. In just a few seconds, he’d cleared twenty meters of space in front of the gate and stood, his chest heaving, in the eye of the storm, daring someone else to step within range.
At ground-level, the horde stood at bay, watching for an opening. The attack, however, came from above. The Lost had already overrun the ramparts behind him and several leapt onto him from the top of the wall, clinging to his back and going for his eyes. He dropped his log and spun in a circle, trying to pull them off his back.
“Dogen!” Cass called as she ran toward him. Dogen wheeled in her direction, his forearms covering his eyes, shielding his face from their claws. Without breaking stride, Cass vaulted onto his shoulders, grabbed one of them by the head, and twisted its neck sharply as she slid down his back, vampire in tow. Dogen, in turn, got hold of another by the head and squeezed it in his hand, crushing it to a pulp. The remaining leech took an axe full in the face, thrown by Zach from ten yards out, and fell with a thump to the ground.
“Inside!” Dogen yelled at the pair of them. “Kumiko needs you inside! I’ll hold them here.”
“Okay,” Cass agreed. “Toss me in there, then, big guy!”
Dogen picked her up, holding her in the palm of his hand like a shotput, spun once, and launched her over the wall. Cass flew through the air, trailing white smoke, then tucked and rolled into her landing in the courtyard. Zach, took a less acrobatic route, scaling Dogen’s log up the side of the wall. Once he was on the ramparts, he quickly twisted his hand as he muttered under his breath, casting a spell that caused his rusty axe to glow green with a supernaturally sharp edge. He cleared a half-dozen vampires from the ramparts. But the more he cleared, the more poured in.
In the courtyard, Cass found herself surrounded by bloody chaos. She could physically smell the wild desperation radiated by the Lost. The stink came off of them in waves. To her left, a Shield guard was torn in half by two vampires fighting over his body. To her right, another had his head bitten clean off. Blood jetted everywhere.
The horde, though, quickly turned their attention to Cass.
She was, after all, glowing like a beacon at the center of this horror.
One by one they turned toward her, encircling her, licking blood from their lips as the corners of their mouths curled cruelly upward.
Cass turned in a slow circle, taking in the full scope of her trouble. Then she pounded her glowing fists together, occasioning a shower of sparks.
“Fine. Who’s first?” she asked, hiding her fear behind her anger.
A tall, thin, and ghostly pale lady decided that she’d try taking the first bite and charged. Cass spun into a roundhouse kick. The kick connected and sent the woman, all skin and bones, skidding back across the cobblestones in the direction she’d come.
The women, though, stood up and dusted herself off. The remainder of the circle cheered and took courage.
They were all coming for her now.
Shit.
“Cass!” Grey called from a balcony in the main building. Everyone turned to look, Cass included, just in time to see Grey toss something through the air toward her.
A thin shaft of ancient steel—folded and hammered, folded and hammered, folded and hammered and honed—glinted in the fire light. It was her mother’s sword.
Cass snatched the sword out of the air by the handle, holding the blade with a reverse grip. Once the blade was in her hand, the shaft burned like white hot magnesium. The crowd around her shielded their eyes, blinded by the light.
“I’ll ask again,” Cass screamed, venting fear and frustration, “who’s first?”
This time, no one answered the call. In fact, the whole circle took a collective step backward.
Cass answered for them, whirling toward the woman who’d already attacked.
“You’re still first,” she said and, with single stroke, sent her head rolling. The woman combusted in a cloud of ash.
Cass went to work beheading Lost. Her movements were a blur. Vampires, feral and otherwise, ran. Confusion reigned. The courtyard filled with a growing cloud of ash. The cloud grew thick enough that Cass doubted she would ever get the smell out of her hair. She’d almost cleared the courtyard when she heard Zach calling out to her.
He joined her and took up a position at her side, his axe still glowing green as the cloud of ash slowly settled toward the ground.
Then he pointed at the far end of the courtyard, toward the gate closest to the main building.
“Here comes the main event,” he said warily.
Just as Cass zeroed in on what Zach was pointing at, the gate exploded inward, scattering debris, and an actual, disciplined squad of Lost rushed into the courtyard, straight for the main building. Clearly this group had more control over themselves than the typical Lost vampire.
This group wasn’t cannon fodder. They were armed w
ith blades of various kinds, dressed in black combat gear, moving in tight formation, and obviously knowing exactly where they were going.
At the front, leading them all with unchecked confidence and ferocity, was Miranda Byrne.
15
JUST FROM MIRANDA’S bearing, Cass could tell where she was headed. Straight for the assembly hall in the main building. Miranda was looking for the Holy Coat—the relic that the Shield had only pretended to have and that Miranda, as a result, wouldn’t be able to find.
Cass knew, though, that this was also personal. Miranda wasn’t just looking for the coat. She was looking for Kumiko.
Cass and Zach locked eyes and shouted, simultaneously: “Kumiko!” They ran for the door Miranda had just stormed through.
The length of the main hallway just inside the door was a mess. Ash and blood stained the floor and walls. Various skirmishes were still in progress. Miranda’s group had already cut through the crowd like a knife, but she’d left a little present behind for Cass and Zach. Three-quarters of the way down the hall, a feral Goliath, dressed in a leather apron, was swinging an enormous club, bashing anything he connected with into the wall.
When he turned away from them to backhand a Shield guard ten feet through the air, Cass saw clearly that he was only wearing the leather apron.
Cass’s eye burned white with rage and she raised her sword. She needed to get to the assembly hall and if she had to go through this monster, then that’s what she would do.
Zach, though, grabbed her arm.
“No, Cass. It’s what Miranda wants. You can take this giant down but Miranda doesn’t care. She just wants to buy herself some time.”
Zach pulled Cass toward a flight of stairs, and Cass understood what he intended. Her anger had gotten the better of her. If they took the stairs, they could skip the boss fight altogether and enter the assembly hall from the second floor balcony.
Zach led the way, clearing a path up the stairs with his axe. Cass took the steps two or three at time, hurtling bodies as she went. At the top of the stairs, Zach crouched and ducked a blow. Cass, though, kept coming, leapt over his back, and sank her katana straight into the heart of the vampire who’d swung at him.
The second story hallway was comparatively quiet. A handful of vampires were frantically searching every room for the relic, leaving a trail of broken doors, busted furniture, and debris in their wake.
Cass ignored them and burst through the assembly hall’s balcony doors and into the hall.
Again, though, she was too late.
Poised on the balcony, frozen by the calamity she saw unfolding below, she was overwhelmed by a sense of déjà vu.
The moment that defined her first trip to this assembly hall was repeating itself—except this time, all the roles were reversed. This time, instead of trying to stop Kumiko from executing judgment on Miranda in front of the assembled Shield, Cass found herself trying to stop Miranda from executing judgment on Kumiko in front of a gathered horde. The irony bit bone-deep.
Miranda had already seized control of the room and captured both Kumiko and Grey. She stood on the dais, sword in hand, with Kumiko and Grey on their knees, hands bounds behind their backs.
Even from across the room, Cass could see that Miranda was buckling under the progressive weight of ferality. The sharp ridge at the base of her neck was clearly visible, her eyes dark and sunken.
“Where is it?” Miranda hissed at Kumiko. “We must have it. You condemn us all without it.”
Kumiko remained silent, her head bowed.
“There’s too much at stake now, you stupid witch,” Miranda spat, her voice cracking and rising. “You never understood. The fate of the whole world hangs in the balance and in the face of this horror you’re going to stick with some shadow of nobility and tradition?”
Miranda circled behind both Kumiko and Grey, sword raised.
“There is literally no time for this,” Miranda continued. “If you don’t tell me right now where the Holy Coat is hidden, Grey will lose head.”
Tears streamed down Kumiko’s face, but she remained silent.
“WHERE?” Miranda shrieked.
“We never had it,” Kumiko whispered. “It was a lie, a ruse, to throw you off the scent. The coat is not here.”
“You’re lying,” Miranda said.
And then, with a flick of her wrist, she sent Grey’s head rolling. His body slumped to the floor. The crowd of vampires parted to make room for the head as it rolled. Finally it came to a stop, pink eyepatch up, in the center of the room.
“No—” Cass mouthed, swallowing back the bile rising in her throat.
She leapt from the balcony again, streaming light and smoke as she had before, and, as she landed, took out two of Miranda’s entourage in a single stroke.
“Not now, Cassandra,” Miranda said turning to face her. “This is not about you.”
Cass looked at Grey’s body and then back at Miranda.
“I think you just made it about me,” she countered, flaming sword raised.
Kumiko took advantage of Miranda’s diverted attention and quickly worked a small spell, twisting her wrists as if opening a stuck bottle. A sharp spark flared against both palms, and the ropes that held her bound fell away, severed.
Miranda, though, was ready for it. As Kumiko tried to stand, Miranda swept her leg and clocked her in the side of the head with a vicious elbow that knocked her out and unspooled the bun of gray hair that sat on top of her head. With her tiny body sprawled on the floor and her face covered in a tangle of hair, Cass couldn’t even tell for sure whether Kumiko was dead or alive.
Miranda moved quickly to finish her work, aiming her blade at Kumiko’s neck, but Cass barreled into her, shoulder first, knocking Miranda from the dais and down into the crowd.
Again, the whole crowd contracted, opening a circle around Miranda.
Miranda rolled back to her feet. Cass leapt down from the dais and joined her.
With all eyes on them, Zach snuck down from the balcony, headed for Kumiko.
Cass felt her entire body fill with incandescent rage. The consuming fire of her anger frightened her. But that fear only fed her anger.
She ran at Miranda, katana held ready to attack. Swords clashed. Sparks flew. Miranda was pressed backward.
A squad of Shield soldiers burst into the room and the crowd surrounding Cass and Miranda dissolved into scattered knots of combat.
Cass pressed her advantage, forcing Miranda to give more ground as she retreated into the hallway and toward the main door.
Miranda bared her teeth at Cass, and the feral energy behind the gesture caught Cass by surprise. In the split second of that slight hesitation, Miranda clenched her left fist, grinding her thumb across the curled fingers. A deep violet light began to glow within her palm, and a choking, dusky smoke sparked out from the hand. Cass had seen enough of the human Miranda’s magic to know that she definitely did not want to face whatever this particular manifestation would turn out to be. Acting on instinct, Cass ignored the hand and dove beneath the smoke, turning mid roll and hitting the hand with a sharp upward kick that forced the fingers to splay out, extinguishing the spell’s light and clearing the sparking smoke.
Miranda grunted, pulling her hand into her body as Cass reversed her roll and sprang up, sword raised. Smoke, however, continued to fill the hall behind Miranda. Confused, Cass strained to look through the smoke and detect the truth of the spell Miranda had set in motion.
Except the truth was that there was no spell. Cass had succeeded in disrupting Miranda’s spellcast. The truth of the remaining smoke curling into the hallway lay in fire.
The building was on fire. All paper and wood, Cass knew it would go up like tinder. Her thoughts turned to Zach and Kumiko. Had they made it out of the room? But she paid for the moment of distraction when Miranda drew a bloody line across Cass’s cheek.
Cass would have to deal with Miranda first and trust that Zach could handle himself.
Wiping the blood from her cheek, Cass unleashed a barrage of blows, hammering away at Miranda’s defenses, forcing her down the stairs and out into the courtyard.
It looked as if the whole compound was on fire. Cass felt sick again.
“Please, Miranda,” Cass begged, “there must be another way.”
Miranda’s eyes flashed to the side, toward the well at the center of the courtyard. Cass saw it clearly. And, in that moment, Cass knew that Miranda had been leading their fight back into the courtyard on purpose.
Cass felt a wave of energy pulse from the ancient well, as if in anticipation. She could see that Miranda felt it too.
Miranda, though, wasn’t afraid of it. She turned, ran, and hopped over the side of the well, disappearing into its depths.
16
CASS JUMPED OVER the side after her. Her body, streaming light, illuminated the whole interior of the well. More, the light in her was pulsing in time with the dim light coming from deep inside the well, far below the waterline.
With her sword wedged into the wall, Miranda was clinging to the side of the shaft about halfway down, waiting for her. When she saw Cass enter, she left her sword in the wall and launched herself at Cass. Miranda aimed her momentum at Cass’s sword hand and crashed into her arm, crushing it against the wall, forcing her hand open. Cass dropped her sword. It pitched end over end into the water and sunk like a stone.
Miranda leapt back to her perch. Cass fell to the upper stair of the staircase, nursing her hand.
“I have to finish this, Cass,” Miranda said, “painful as it is. Kumiko has been dead wrong for decades and if we don’t sacrifice the Shield now, the whole world will go up in flames.”
Cass felt the truth—at least in part—of what Miranda was saying. But her heart also rose in fear and anger, defiant at the thought. Was she really going to believe Miranda now?
