Kol sent back an image of the collar keeping him trapped in his human form. Apparently, Irina was worried about facing a vengeful dragon as well.
Lorelai met Gabril’s gaze and said, “He can’t shift. Irina’s collar won’t let him. And he’s more than a predator sent to hunt me down. He’s the king of Eldr, his kingdom is falling, and he’s been trapped by Irina’s treachery. I can save him, Gabril.”
“The risks are tremendous.” He sheathed his sword and stared her down, his implacable expression demanding that she back up her words with logic he could accept. “If he’s at war with himself, he’ll crumble eventually. Irina’s magic has tainted him, and in my experience, that taint only grows more poisonous over time.”
“Then I need to act quickly.”
“If you use your magic to battle Irina’s magic in the boy, you’ll have revealed your true strength to her. She’ll be more prepared, more informed, when you get to the capital. And you’ll weaken yourself if his heart doesn’t submit to yours, which will also give Irina an advantage—”
“I’m not just going to let him die! Not when I have the power to save him.” Lorelai’s words fell between them, hard as stones, and Gabril’s eyes softened.
“He isn’t Leo.”
“No, but he’s somebody’s brother. Somebody’s friend. And I made a promise to save Eldr if Irina didn’t do it. Kol is part of Eldr.” She raised her chin. “I keep my promises, Gabril.”
Gabril crossed the space between them and pulled her close. “I know you do. And I’m grateful that’s who you are. I just want you to be alive at the end of this. I can’t bear the thought of losing you too.”
She wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his chest and the familiar weight of his chin against the top of her head make her feel safe.
Not . . . safe. Kol’s thoughts were a torment of fire, blood, and death. Her death.
I know, but right now there are more important things. She knew the risks of refusing to kill Eldr’s king. Of setting her sights on Ravenspire’s false queen and waging a war that would end with one of them on the throne and one of them in the ground.
Stepping back from Gabril, she said, “It’s time to start. You remember what we discussed?”
He nodded, his stoic expression back in place. “If you get weak from the magic, I’m to get you to the next location even if I have to drag you behind me.”
“Yes.”
“A task made much harder by the presence of a dragon trapped in his human form who is dedicated to killing you.”
“Use Sasha to keep him away until I wake up if you have to. Just get me off this mountain and down to the bridge that spans the Silber River and connects the Falkrains to the rest of Ravenspire before the army gets there. Irina will start using magic to try to stop us once she figures out what I’m doing. I need to be at the bridge or beyond it before that happens.” She flashed him a little smile, though there was no mirth in it. “And pray that Ravenspire recognizes my intentions and lends me its heart without a fight so that nobody has to drag me anywhere.”
“How do you plan to put a barrier between the ogres and the Eldrians if you can’t actually touch the land in Eldr? Don’t you need to touch the heart of the land if you want it to obey you?” he asked as they both turned to look up at the command outpost.
“I’ll use the river our kingdoms share.” She studied the way the outpost, with its thick stone walls and narrow towers, was carved into the side of the mountain itself.
Where is the armory? She sent to Sasha.
Kol sent back an image of confusion.
Sasha sent back an image of a massive building housed beneath the mountain.
It was going to get complicated having both of them listening to her thoughts.
How many people are in the outpost? she asked, and ignored Kol’s fractured thoughts as Sasha sent her pictures of row upon row of soldiers standing at attention beneath the pale blue sky while a woman with multiple silver bars on the breast of her uniform yelled something to them.
Troop review. Most, if not all, of the people who lived in the bunker would be in the outer court. The army hadn’t changed their schedule much since Gabril’s days in the palace. That would make Lorelai’s job a lot easier.
The bulk of Irina’s weaponry and supplies were housed in the bunker that stretched from the outpost into the center of the mountain. The bulk of her northern army was stationed here as well—partially because Duchess Waldina owned the land and was loyal, and partially because this was close enough to the Morcant border to act as a deterrent in case King Milek decided to challenge his niece for the throne.
Destroying the outpost and the bunker would leave the northern army without the resources to fight Irina’s battles from afar. Destroying the bridge that connected the Falkrain Mountains to the rest of Ravenspire would make it impossible for Irina to recall her soldiers to the capital for help once Lorelai arrived.
It made strategic sense.
It was also the biggest spell Lorelai had ever attempted, and she figured she had one chance to get it right before the threads of Irina’s magic that ran through the ground reported her actions to the queen and provoked Irina to launch a spell that would save the outpost.
“Ready?” Gabril asked, the tension in his shoulders belying the composure in his voice.
“Ready.”
She knelt in the dirt and thought of the woman who’d killed her children to spare them a slow, terrible death. The villagers who’d mobbed the Eldrians because they were desperate to avoid a choice like hers.
She thought of Leo, telling her to run while Irina’s spell turned his veins black and stopped his heart.
Power flooded her body, streaking through her blood to fill her palms with the sting of magic. She raised her hands, wreathed in white light, and looked at the group of buildings jutting out from the middle of the mountain.
“Nakh`rashk.” She slammed her palms against the dirt and sent her power deep underground. The heart of the mountain felt stubborn, slow, and unyielding, its power steadily syphoned off by Irina’s magic. The second Lorelai encountered resistance, she stopped pushing and whispered, “I ask for the use of your heart, not for my own gain but to stop the one who is causing our land to die.”
She let her magic rest within the land and willed her kingdom to respond to her. To help her. To see that she meant to heal Ravenspire instead of ruin it.
Nothing happened. The mountain refused to yield. Lorelai closed her eyes and whispered a plea. If she had to force the mountain’s heart to obey hers, she’d be weak and exhausted for days, just as she was after healing Gabril. She didn’t have time for weakness. Destroying the outpost was the first move in a carefully planned attack, and every piece of Lorelai’s battle plan needed to happen quickly. She had to keep the queen on the defensive—scrambling to keep up by sending out spells of her own that would weaken her heart—and she had to strip all Irina’s extra defenses away, or she risked engaging in a battle she might not be able to win.
“Please. Help me,” she whispered. Her magic tingled and sparked, and then slowly, slowly the heart of the mountain moved toward the tendrils of her power that lay beneath its skin.
“Thank you,” she breathed as the vast, stubborn strength of the mountain merged with her magic and became a tool she could shape to her will. “Nakh`rashk. Find the foundation of the army’s outpost and shake it until every creature with a heartbeat has left its walls.”
The mountain groaned and shuddered. Trees snapped in half and tumbled down. Puffs of dust rose from the outpost’s compound, and then another shudder gripped the mountain, and the outer wall of the compound cracked in half.
Soldiers came pouring out of the compound’s gate as the mountain trembled and shook. Lorelai kept her hands pressed hard against the ground as her heart thundered in her ears.
She’d known she was capable of great magic, but until this very moment, she hadn’t truly believed she
had the power to bring a mountain to its knees. The sight filled her with awe, but a streak of fear ran beneath it.
Irina was also capable of bringing a mountain to its knees, and look what the queen had done with the vast strength of her magic.
Tell me when all the people are out of the courtyard. She sent an image of a deserted compound to Sasha.
Running. Sasha’s thoughts were full of soldiers stumbling out of the outpost as a spiderweb of cracks spread across the stone floor and raced up the walls.
Somewhere in the background of Lorelai’s thoughts, Kol sent bits of words and fragmented images. Lorelai ignored him as she fought an inner war to quiet the fear that the magic she wielded would turn her into the enemy she was determined to destroy. She focused on the images in Sasha’s mind of the soldiers scrambling for safety, and grabbed on to them like a lifeline.
Her power and Irina’s power were alike, but that didn’t mean their hearts were the same. If Irina had wanted this mountain destroyed, she’d have leveled it without once worrying about the human cost.
Clear. Sasha sent a picture of the last wide-eyed soldiers fleeing the outpost.
Lorelai stopped contemplating the nature of her power and drew in a deep breath as magic burned through her veins. Time for Irina to begin reaping what she’d sown.
Far beneath the solid, sturdy presence of the mountain, beneath the layers and layers of dirt, rock, and water, she found what she was looking for. Blistering heat turned a layer of rock into molten lava that flowed slowly through the deepest core of Ravenspire.
She gathered her magic and said, “Kaz`zhech. Open a channel to the fire below and let it consume the compound.”
The mountain made a horrible grinding noise, like two enormous slabs of rock scraping against each other. A low rumbling shook the hillside, growing louder by the second. The trees trembled, branches clattering together. Leaves, pinecones, small stones, and dirt shook loose from the mountain and slid down its side.
Safe? Safe! Sasha demanded as she streaked across the sky toward Lorelai, leaving the compound behind.
I’m safe.
Kol snarled, and Lorelai whipped her head around to scan the trees, but the snarl had been in his thoughts, and she could find no trace of him.
The rumbling became a roar, and the scorching heat of the lava tangled with the threads of Lorelai’s magic as it surged upward through the mountain’s core. The compound shook violently, and large chunks of stone tumbled down the mountainside.
The ground beneath her hands heaved, and Gabril grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling as long cracks split the mountain’s skin and exposed the fiery veins of lava that flowed beneath.
“We need to get out of here,” Gabril said.
“One more minute.” Lorelai looked up at the compound and sent her will into the mountain.
The stream of molten rock that was rising within the mountain exploded into the compound and flooded the bunker. Steam hissed, stone cracked and crumbled, and the mountain trembled. And then the lava spewed out of the bunker and covered the courtyard, sending the remaining remnants of the wall sliding down the mountainside. The mountain shuddered once more, a violent ripple that tore through the land above the compound and sent it plummeting onto the courtyard below.
Lorelai whispered her thanks and lifted her hands from the ground. The roar of the lava became a distant rumble and then faded completely. She climbed to her feet and stared at the place where the outpost used to exist.
It was gone. Destroyed down to the last piece of stone. The bunker was sealed off, and every bit of weaponry had been consumed by the molten stone.
Lorelai’s legs shook, and her fingertips were icy as she struggled to pull on her gloves, but she could stand on her own. Walk on her own. She’d done the biggest spell of her life, and because the mountain had agreed to be allied with her purposes, the cost to her body was small. She hoped that also meant the cost to the mountain’s heart was small as well.
Must . . . hunt. Kol’s words seared themselves in her mind along with an image of him digging his hands into a tree trunk, trying desperately to keep himself from chasing her.
Killing her.
“Let’s go,” she said as she looked over her shoulder for the huntsman who was losing his battle to spare her life. “It will take us at least three days to walk to the Silber River, and we need to get to that bridge before the soldiers find their bearings and become a cohesive unit again.”
Gabril nodded and turned south. “And the boy?”
“He’ll be hunting me soon. Let’s put as much distance between us as we can while I come up with a plan to deal with him.”
Gabril gave her a look that promised he had a plan of his own if hers failed. They started walking south while Sasha circled above them, and somewhere behind them, Kol fought to resist Irina’s magic.
TWENTY-THREE
THE SUN TRACED the stone balcony with thin, golden fingers that did little to dispel the shadows spreading from the gathering twilight. Irina gripped the twisted metal balustrade with both hands and stared at the city—her city—spread out below her like a feast of plump cottages, pretty gabled inns, cobblestoned streets, and cathedral spires that pierced the sky like needles.
The soft glow of lanterns lit to welcome friends and family home dotted the cityscape like tiny golden stars. A gust of wind chased a thread of ice down Irina’s spine, but she refused to shiver.
The sun’s dying glow slid away from the balcony, plunging Irina into shadows. Her gaze followed the remaining light as it sank toward the ground, and her lips pressed together in a thin line when the light lingered in the castle’s garden, sparkling against the white stone monolith that rose from a cluster of crimson flowers like a sentinel standing guard.
Her heart lurched, tapping against her breastbone like an impatient fist. She pressed one pale hand against her chest in a futile effort to stop the painful pounding and tore her gaze away from the monolith.
She had nothing to grieve for. No one left to mourn. Instead, she had a kingdom at her feet and the ruthless power it took to rule it. Others might say they’d kill to be where she was, but they were liars.
Irina alone had proven capable of wresting the life she deserved from those who sought to keep it from her. She alone had taken the bitter dregs of failure and turned them into triumph. Soon Lorelai would be dead, her traitorous heart in Irina’s hands, and Irina would find a way to renew her own heart. All would be as it should. The pain she was pouring into her huntsman’s collar wouldn’t let him fail her again.
Awareness curled along the edges of her power, stinging her veins as magic surged toward her hands.
Something was wrong.
She closed her eyes and focused on the threads of magic she’d laid throughout her kingdom.
To the north. Beyond the Hinderlinde Forest. Over the Silber River and west.
Reaching out, she wrapped her bare hand around a vine of raven’s rose that crept up the side of her tower. The thick, stubby thorns pierced her skin. Ignoring her cuts, Irina said, “Prosnakh. Find what I seek.”
Her magic gathered itself and shot down the thorny plant in a stream of power that sounded like a clap of thunder when it merged with the ground. Irina closed her eyes and envisioned the mountains northwest of the Silber River. Duchess Waldina’s land with its villages, its mines, and Irina’s northern army command outpost.
The queen’s heart pounded unsteadily as her magic merged with the heart of the thorny climbing rose plant and exploded into a vine of its own, snaking beneath the capital city, crossing the Hinderlinde Forest, and burning a path straight into the western mountains, far beneath the sparse villages that clung stubbornly to the mountains’ unforgiving skin.
When the vine reached Duchess Waldina’s lands, it burst into hundreds of tendrils that crawled beneath the ground, seeking answers. In seconds, the tendrils tangled with the lingering strands of Lorelai’s magic, and the spells she’d used were revealed to
the queen.
A vise of pain wrapped around Irina’s chest and stole her breath.
Her entire command outpost was gone. Destroyed down to the last stone. Her weapons were buried beneath a lake of hardened lava, her communications towers with their signal mirrors and carrier pigeons were crushed, and her soldiers had fled to the nearest village.
But worse than all that were the threads of magic that wrapped around the heart of the mountain and repelled Irina’s touch with implacable strength.
Lorelai.
Fury tinged with the bitterness of fear swamped Irina. She hadn’t trained the princess to use magic like this—to merge with the heart of something and turn it into a weapon. It had taken Irina years to learn that skill. Either Lorelai had been practicing, training with a rogue mardushka, or the princess had more natural power than Irina had imagined.
Either way, the princess had just declared war, and Irina couldn’t allow that to go unpunished.
Tightening her grip on the rose vine, Irina whispered, “Nakhgor kaz`lit. Find the one I seek and punish her.” Irina poured her intent, every strong-willed, vicious thought she’d ever had, into the incantors. Her arm throbbed, and her heart sent spikes of pain into her jaw as her power shuddered through the vine and then burst into hundreds of smaller threads that moved throughout the capital, the Hinderlinde, and across the Silber into the Falkrains.
Irina opened her eyes and swayed on her feet as the effort it took to gather power from the increasingly reluctant Ravenspire ground took its toll. Gripping the balustrade with bloody fingers, she smiled coldly as she gazed north toward land that was now connected to her as intimately as her own heartbeat.
Her huntsman would be closing in on the princess, driven wild by his need to rip out her heart and end his torment. Any day now, he would complete his task, and Irina would sleep well at night knowing the princess had paid for her betrayal.
But if he failed, the threads of Irina’s power would not. The second Lorelai used her magic again, Irina’s spell would attack, and Lorelai’s foolish game would cost her everything.
The Shadow Queen (Ravenspire) Page 18
