The Crown of Bones (The Fae War Chronicles Book 2)

by Jocelyn Fox

  If you try, then this is what will happen, it said to me like a mother lecturing her child, and then there was a sudden gaping void in my chest where its power had nestled. I gasped and doubled over in the saddle, feeling the loss of power almost like physical pain. My own taebramh expanded, and as it flowed through my chest I was able to suck in a breath, but there was still an aching sense of wrongness, like I was missing a limb. I reached out to the Sword, but it was like hitting a marble wall, smooth and slick.

  This is what Mab would do to you, the Caedbranr told me, its words barely more than a whisper in my mind. I couldn’t breathe.

  “I’m sorry,” I choked. “I promise. I promise I won’t.” Tears of anger pricked at the corners of my eyes as I said the words. Damn it. Damn my responsibility and damn the Sword’s power and damn my inability to see through Finnead’s act, because now he was dying and the only thing I could do was throw him into a battle and offer him a rickety wooden bridge across a terrifying gorge. He was dying and I couldn’t use my power to stop it.

  You cannot use your power, the Sword agreed, letting down its walls and allowing its emerald fire to trickle slowly back into me. But that does not mean you are powerless.

  “Right,” I gritted out. “Then let’s go cross that damn bridge.”

  Chapter 15

  Kaleth thundered through the forest, shadows rippling over us as he nimbly navigated the trail. I rose up in the saddle as he leapt over a fallen log, my fingers entwined in his silky black mane. The Sword was back in its customary place along my spine, a dagger as long as my forearm adorning my belt where my plain sword usually hung. Vell had given me three throwing knives. “Try not to lose them,” she told me, golden eyes glinting, “unless you kill something first.” My bow and quiver I’d strapped to the side of the saddle, buckled so that I could release them quickly with one hand. Merrick rode ahead of me, his mount threading through the trees with fleet-footed surety. Beryk flashed through the trees to my right, and Vell on her small mount followed close behind, her slender faehal quick enough to gallop through the forest off the path.

  I’d had to fight to ride second, but my argument that I could then take advantage of what little surprise we still retained won out. Finnead rode close behind me, and Luca brought up the rear with Kavoryk. Luca rode Kavoryk’s mount and the half-giant ran instead, his huge strides keeping pace with our fleet faehal with amazing ease. Forin and Farin shot like flame-arrows from a bow through the foliage overhead, illuminating the leaves in bright bursts of emerald. Rialla had disappeared quietly sometime during our planning, but both Vell and Luca didn’t seem worried. I supposed that out of all of us, Luca and Rialla had the most to lose if our plan failed. Except for Finnead, I reminded myself, a chill slipping down my spine. I pushed the worry from my mind. I couldn’t afford the distraction, not when we were about to plunge into fire and darkness. He was the Vaelanbrigh, and he had the Brighbranr. And I had the Caedbranr. The Sword hummed along my back, its power vibrating through my bones. I couldn’t use its power to heal Finnead, but I’d damn well use it to forge a path of blood to the wooden bridge.

  Farin dove down and kept pace with Kaleth, her aura streaming fierce red and orange behind her. “Almost there!” she yelled, giving a fierce cry of anticipation. My fingertips began to tingle. I felt the Sword’s power gathering like a wolf ready to spring at an elk.

  Sometimes just the idea of the Sword is enough. Gwyneth’s words echoed through my head. The cool pendant heated suddenly against the tender skin of my throat. Gripping Kaleth’s mane with one hand, I reached up and traced its smooth curve with two fingers. The hum of the Sword and the heat of the pendant combined to create a strange sensation, chills and fire battling on my skin. I leaned forward, every sense heightened, my eyes catching every shadow in the trees, the glint of a sun-patch on Kaleth’s tack, the stream of light that was Forin and Farin overhead. Ahead of me, Merrick drew his sword in a flash of silver. I unbuckled my bow and slid an arrow out of my quiver, running my thumb over the feathers and trying to swallow against the jumping of my heart in my throat. Kaleth surged forward, bringing us to the heels of Merrick’s mount. A wolf-howl echoed through the forest and I wasn’t sure whether it was from Vell or Beryk.

  They hadn’t set sentries. They hadn’t sent any cadengriffs or garrelnosts into the forest to hunt us, because we were coming to them. I clenched my teeth and nocked my arrow to my bow, fighting the nausea bubbling up from my stomach.

  Merrick burst through the trees into the clearing. The change was sudden and immediate: one moment I ducked a branch and the next moment we were out in the open, naked in the daylight on the green plain before the cliff. My eyes swept over the clearing, and my breath caught in my throat.

  There were at least fifty creatures, twisted shapes and forms so ghastly they could have been pulled from the lowest circle of Dante’s Inferno, nightmares with horns and fangs. The worst were the ones that looked almost human, whose shape suggested that they had once been sentient beings, now twisted and deformed to the Shadow’s dark purpose. And in the middle of them, towering like a mountain, was a giant, skulls rattling in his beard. Shrieks and howls and roars split the air as the giant raised his spiked club. But they didn’t charge. They stood, waiting, eerily disciplined.

  We hurtled toward them at a headlong gallop. I looked to my left and saw Merrick and Vell, faces alight with fierce anticipation, swords drawn as they urged their mounts on. To my right there was Kavoryk and Luca and Finnead, the Brighbranr blazing sapphire in his hand. Gwyneth’s pendant sent a spark of heat onto my skin, and I gasped, spurred into action. Gripping Kaleth with my knees, I sat up straight in the saddle and brought up my bow. “Gwyneth, guide my aim,” I whispered, and I drew back the bowstring, the knuckles of my right fingers brushing against my cheek. A tiny flame of taebramh raced down the shaft of the arrow. I aimed, waited for that suspended moment, and released. The arrow burst into vibrant emerald flame as it sailed through the air and buried itself with a wet thump in the chest of the giant. It roared, beating at the flames with one huge hand, flailing its club and demolishing its own creatures.

  I nocked another arrow, Farin’s cry of triumph as my second arrow found its mark in the giant’s neck ringing in my ears. My hands moved of their own volition, drawing back another arrow before I’d had time to fully understand that my second shot had hit its target. I fired three more arrows with a speed I hadn’t known I possessed, the Sword vibrating so hard it rattled its sheath on my back, Gwyneth’s pendant white-hot yet not burning me.

  In the frozen moment before we hit the line of hideous creatures awaiting us, I looked over to Merrick as I strapped my bow back to my saddle. “Remember,” I shouted to him, “remember your part!”

  He grinned at me, his face alight with boyish delight and bloodlust. Then I turned back and Kaleth leapt over the first line of creatures, a true warhorse. He landed amidst twisted shapes, lashing out with his hooves with deadly intent. My long dagger dripped with black blood and green ichor as I slashed and stabbed. One of the creatures clawed at my leg and I snarled in pain as it dug its talons into my flesh, pulling itself above the fray. I stabbed my dagger into its eye as Kaleth reared, striking down a cat-like creature and crushing its skull. I gripped the creature on my leg by the scruff of the neck, its body dead weight, and threw it away from me in disgust, hissing in pain as its claws were torn from my flesh.

  “All right there?” yelled Vell, her face smeared with blood. Beryk tore out the throat of a humanoid creature, its scream fading into a gurgle.

  “Get Merrick through!” I shouted back as Kaleth wheeled to face the next onslaught. My leg throbbed, and I felt warm blood sliding down into my boot.

  “As you command, my Bearer!” Vell replied without any trace of sarcasm, her golden eyes fierce and bright. “Come on then, pup!”

  Merrick grinned at her and turned his faehal. Beryk and Vell cut a swathe through the horde of creatures, his muzzle shining wetly and her sword
flashing brightly. Kaleth turned and plunged through the maelstrom, back toward Luca and Finnead. Kavoryk held down our right flank, cutting down the Shadow’s creations with huge sweeps of his axe. Luca fought with dexterity despite his wounded hand, and Finnead thrust his sword fiercely into a horned bull with razor-sharp teeth and glaring red eyes. Luca roared a Northern battle-cry, baring his teeth—he looked like pictures I had seen in library books of Norse berserkers, or maybe even Thor, if Thor had wielded a slender sword instead of a battle-hammer.

  My arms burned and my brow stung with sweat as we fought on. I guided Kaleth with my knees—not that he needed much guidance, lashing out at any creature within reach with the ferocity of a battle-hardened warrior. I smiled, the fury of battle singing through my bones, mingling with the power of the Sword and my own taebramh and the urging of Gwyneth’s pendant; and for a moment my eyes caught Finnead’s gaze through the chaos, an answering smile spreading across his lips despite the bone-white paleness of his face.

  We gradually drew into a circle, a wheel of destruction against which the ranks of Dark creatures broke like waves upon a great rock. Finnead fought on my left, Luca on my right, and I knew Kavoryk was behind me.

  “There are more than when we first started,” Luca panted from atop Kavoryk’s huge mount, his face glistening with a sheen of sweat. He bared his teeth and gave a growl as he beheaded a skin-wraith. “And skin-wraiths!”

  “Skin-wraiths mean a sorcerer,” I shouted above the din of battle, breathing as hard as though I’d just run a seven-minute mile. My leg ached where the creature had clawed it; my entire sock in my boot felt soaked with blood and my head throbbed with a fierce headache. “So we find the puppet-master and cut the strings!”

  “Killing the sorcerer is not our goal,” Finnead yelled, cool and composed as he dissected a fanged toad and skewered a vicious weasel-like thing with the blazing blue Brighbranr. The creatures shrieked and gibbered as the sapphire fire roared. In the back of my mind I knew it wasn’t wise for Finnead to use his power, not when his skin was the color of bone and his eyes stood out like dark glittering holes in his face.

  “Chael and Kianryk,” I agreed, more to myself than anyone else; and I hoped fervently that Vell and Merrick succeeded in their mission before too much longer. Black spots danced at the corners of my vision. I pushed away the dizziness, focusing on the next lumbering troll to shamble at me. Its claws were no match for my long dagger and it howled as one of my throwing-knives found its mark in its eye.

  “Very impressive throw!” yelled Forin as he swept down to hover just above my head.

  “Vell and Merrick…?” I panted, tossing my dagger to my left hand to deal with a bearish animal. It splattered poison-green ichor when I cut its throat. I hissed as its blood burned like acid on my skin, scrubbing at my hands with my sleeves.

  “They have the Northman and the wolf!” Farin joined in, zooming down to join her twin.

  “Go, then! Get them across!” I gritted my teeth and twisted in the saddle as a skin-wraith stretched its skeletal fingers toward me. Its mouth opened in a howl as I beheaded it in a spray of gore. “We’re right behind!”

  Farin left a trail of neon as she headed for the bridge, but Forin stayed, wielding his small bow with precision and bringing down one of the smaller monstrosities with a barrage of well-aimed arrows as long as my pinky finger.

  “To the bridge!” I yelled to the rest of my little band of fighters. I wheeled Kaleth, and Luca and Finnead fell in on either side of me. Kavoryk, though—I twisted in the saddle again, grimacing at the pull on my fiercely aching leg.

  The giant Northman stood alone, legs braced against the furious onslaught of the Shadow-creatures. He cut into the horde with vicious strokes of his huge axe, holding a knife that was as long as my forearm in the other hand to skewer any that escaped his steel-wife. His eyes gleamed with battle-fury and he bared his teeth in a wild grin, braying a wordless challenge to the creatures. Blood streaked one of his forearms—whether it was his, or from the creatures, I couldn’t tell.

  “Kavoryk!” I shouted, my voice breaking hoarsely. Kaleth tossed his head and started forward. I grabbed the reins with my left hand and hauled back on them. The faehal let out a piercing whistle of indignation and anger but stood his ground, prancing in place, leaping aside to avoid the attack of a small garrelnost.

  “Tess!” Luca shouted as he cut down the garrelnost. “We must move, now!”

  “No!” I said desperately, understanding Kavoryk’s intentions with a flash of terrible clarity. “No, we won’t leave him! We won’t!”

  Finnead turned to me in that brief moment of suspended silence, the rare lull in chaos when everything slowed. Nothing seemed real. I stared at him, seeing the glisten of sweat on his forehead, the spotted blood on his sleeve, the lines of pain around his mouth and eyes. “There’s too many,” he said in a voice so quiet I should not have heard him, but I did.

  “No,” I repeated desperately, catching at Kaleth’s reins again.

  “I swore an oath, my Bearer!” roared Kavoryk, never taking his eyes from the teeming mass of creatures. He corralled them with steel, spreading his arms wide with sword and axe in his hands. He roared again, wordlessly, as another wave broke upon him like waves crashing against a cliff. I lost sight of him for a moment and then he reappeared, surging up from beneath the creatures in a blur of silver and beard and gleaming white teeth as he laughed, the sound booming over the plain like a battle-drum. Blood laced his arms and dripped from his weapons.

  “He is not Kavoryk but Tyr, made flesh!” shouted Luca, his own eyes alight with the flame of battle. He raised his sword. “May you feast in the hall of victors with the gods, brother!”

  I watched wide-eyed as a garrelnost clamped its jaws on Kavoryk’s shoulder. A black blur raced past and Beryk barreled into the garrelnost, taking the creature down to the ground just as he had in the battle at the clearing. Kavoryk’s shoulder gleamed wetly but he swung his axe with unabated ferocity.

  Suddenly Kaleth surged forward. I grabbed for the reins, but Finnead had somehow stolen them from my grasp.

  “Go!” Kavoryk roared. A gnarled black arrow sailed through the air and slammed into him but he plucked it out as if it were a splinter.

  “No!” I screamed. I reached for the Sword’s power blindly.

  Finnead tossed Kaleth’s reins to Luca, who kicked Kavoryk’s huge mount into a canter.

  “Use the Sword’s power and I will make sure you don’t wake up until we reach Brightvale,” threatened Finnead, a ball of glowing blue light in his hand.

  “Damn you both!” I shouted at them, taking out my fury on a stray toad. I risked a glance over my shoulder and caught a last glimpse of Kavoryk, damming the tide of Dark creatures.

  Vell galloped toward us and wheeled her mount, falling in behind me. “Chael and Kianryk are across the bridge with Merrick!” she reported. She caught Luca’s eyes. “They are both alive, and safe for now.” Then she put two fingers in her mouth and whistled shrilly. Within the space of a breath Beryk shot past us like an arrow from a bow.

  The edge of the cliff loomed before us, a gaping wound in the green of the plain. We thundered past the tents and poles that Merrick had shown us with the scrying-stone. I glanced over my shoulder again and Kavoryk was moving toward the bridge as well, keeping his back to us as he continued battling the creatures. A small sudden hope bloomed in my chest, battling against the desperate sorrow that choked me. Perhaps we’d all make it. Perhaps no one would have to pay the price of springing this terrible trap, so well-baited.

  Vell and Beryk reached the bridge ahead of us, and the rickety wood-and-rope construction swayed alarmingly as they crossed. It seemed like an eternity before they reached the other side. I looked back and the tide of battle was gaining on us. Then there was a sudden horrible lurch, and Kaleth wheezed wetly and fell. I threw an arm up to shield my face from the ground rushing up to meet me, landing with a stunning impact. I couldn’t breathe,
and Kaleth shuddered, his weight crushing me. With an immense effort he stood, leaving me gasping on the ground, staring up at the arrow embedded to the feathers in his side. Blood rimmed his nostrils. He looked at me with his eerily intelligent eyes, nodded his beautiful head once, trembling all over, and then collapsed.

  I gave a strange little cry, half strangled scream and half gasp, and scrambled over to him, ignoring the blinding pain in my leg and the starbursts of blackness exploding behind my eyes. I stroked his smooth still-warm neck and then there were arms around my waist, lifting me away from him. Luca, on foot now, kept one arm firmly around my waist and moved us both toward the bridge. My leg gave out and he grunted, adjusting his grip so that he was mostly carrying me. I limped along as best I could.

  The rickety bridge across the yawning gorge seemed miles away, I noticed numbly. Then I remembered my bow and quiver, strapped to Kaleth’s saddle. I tried to turn back, mumbling, “My bow.”

  “You can’t use a bow if you’re dead,” said Luca in reply, moving relentlessly toward the bridge. Then my dragging foot hit a rock and even as I cursed my clumsiness, a wave of nausea and dizziness rushed over me. I stumbled.

  “Put one arm about my shoulders,” Luca ordered and I complied, my fingers tingling oddly. He lifted me with one arm, his forearm braced beneath my good thigh. He still held his sword in his other hand, fending off the smaller, faster creatures that had gotten around Kavoryk. Finnead, on foot now as well, ran beside us, taking the larger creatures. I wanted to weep in frustration: how were we to get to the Seelie Court without our fleet Fae mounts? I thought disjointedly.