Two fingers to his lips, he whistled, summoning the rest of his circling knights.
“Send all we have to the holy mansion,” he ordered. “Every pair of wings, get it airborne. The Archon must not escape, do you hear me? The Archon must not escape!”
CHAPTER
23
The gathered ground forces of Weshern’s military marched toward the gates of the holy mansion, and Kael flew high above them as one of the six Seraphim sent as escort. Chernor Windborn was their squad leader, and he kept low and slow as they closed the final distance.
“Looks like they’ve locked the gates on our welcome party,” Chernor bellowed over the wind. “Would one of you care to knock?”
“I got it!” shouted another of the five, an older Seraph with bronze skin named Aven. The black stripes of Argus’s Wolf Squad were still painted on his silver wings. He casually aimed his gauntlet and lobbed four large stones through the air. Golden-armored soldiers fled from the gate as the stones smashed down, making a mangled mess of the iron and stone supports. The way now free, the ground troops rushed through the outer gate toward the mansion’s entrance, Varl Cutter leading the wave of spears and shields.
With the Weshern forces numbering in the hundreds, Center’s forces couldn’t hope to compete in open warfare. Instead they retreated through the thin doors. Another stone knocked those doors down, clearing a path. Spears slammed against shields as the two forces collided. Even within the cramped space there was little the vastly outnumbered soldiers of Center could do to withstand the tide.
Chernor took them through a loop above the mansion, then slowed to a hover. The rest of the Seraphs gathered around him to hear his commands.
“Reinforcements are bound to show up soon,” he said. “Kael and I will rescue the royal family. You four, set up ambush points around the premises. The moment any knights show up, hit them fast and hard before they can retreat.”
“What if they come in too great a number?” Saul asked. At first Kael thought him merely being pessimistic, but to his surprise Saul looked earnest in his question.
“Then you fight, you die, and you fall from the sky like Seraphim,” Chernor said. “Buy us the time we need. No matter what, we’re getting our Archon and his family out of there.”
“We’ve got this,” Aven said. “Get in there and give them hell, Chernor.”
The six saluted one another, and Aven took charge, directing the remaining Seraphs to hidden alcoves of the building and deep shadows beneath the carefully cut trees. Chernor watched them leave, then smacked Kael across the chest.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Chernor and Kael dove for the broken entryway doors. The sound of distant combat met their ears as they landed, soldiers stepping back to give them space.
“Remember, we find Clara first,” Chernor said as he pulled his enormous maul off his back. “Isaac and Avila should be relatively safe inside their cells during the combat.”
“Or they’ll be killed immediately,” Kael said, readying the shield Johan had given him.
A brief flash of worry crossed over the big man’s face.
“Yet another reason to ensure Clara’s safety,” he said. “With the two brothers licking Center’s boots, Clara might be the only heir worth saving. Now lead on.”
Chernor had chosen Kael to accompany him inside because of his time in the mansion. Taking point, Kael passed through the entryway, walking single file for his wings to fit, and then into the taller, wider hallways. Bodies lay about, many bearing the circle of Center on their tunics. Among them were the Willer house guards, and Kael swallowed down his unease at the sight. There’d been no way to send Clara warning prior to the attack, and Kael could only pray she’d safely endured the chaos.
The deeper into the mansion they traveled, the louder the sounds of combat grew. Kael flexed his right hand, feeling the connection to the ice element within the gauntlet, letting it calm his mind despite the many signs of violence. Paintings were ripped down, vases broken, and blood spilled across the carpet. Center’s soldiers had immediately turned on the house guards the moment the Weshern military was spotted. If Clara had been unaware and vulnerable...
They turned a corner, stumbling upon three of Center’s soldiers standing shoulder to shoulder with their shields linked. Five of Varl’s men engaged them, trading thrusts with their spears as they searched for weaknesses. Beside them was the door to Clara’s room. Fighting off panic, Kael raised his gauntlet and aimed through the chaos. The shields were thick and tall, and combined with the relative lowness of the ceilings, there was no way for Kael and Chernor to safely fly over them and engage from behind.
“Patience, lad,” Chernor said, lowering Kael’s gauntlet with a beefy hand. “Wait for an opening.”
The ground troops battled, the Weshern soldiers growing more aggressive with each passing moment. Time was not on their side, and every single person inside the mansion knew it. The aggression left the Weshern men vulnerable, and their greater numbers weren’t enough to overtake their highly trained foes. One soldier pulled his shield back to thrust, only to find a spear in his chest. Center’s other two soldiers jammed their spears in a coordinated assault, bypassing another shield to clip a Weshern soldier across the neck. His jugular opened, the doomed man fought weakly on before collapsing. With two down, the Weshern line broke.
“Now,” Chernor ordered, and he readied his maul. Center’s soldiers rushed forward, trying to press their newfound advantage. Kael met their advance with lances of ice aimed below their tall shields, cracking knees and breaking shins. Chernor leapt into the heart of the fight, giant maul lifted high above his head. His target raised a shield in protection, screamed as the heavy head rammed down upon it, wrenching the soldier’s arm violently and snapping bones. Another thrust for Chernor’s chest, but Varl’s men recovered and rushed back into the fray. Their shields crowded to either side of the Seraph, protecting him. Chernor shifted the maul to his left hand, extended his right, and blasted a bolt of lightning straight through the forehead of another of Center’s soldiers. The man died with his spear raised up to thrust.
Suddenly outnumbered four to one, the final soldier went fully defensive, retreating step after step with his shield before him. Kael flung a single shot of ice at the man’s feet, tripping him up. The moment he slipped, spears punctured his body, ending him.
“Link up with another squad,” Chernor told the soldiers as they regrouped. “We need numbers on our sides at all times.”
“Understood, sir,” one said, saluting before leading the rest back down the hallway. Kael paid them no attention. He tried the door to Clara’s room, found it locked. He kicked at it a few times, growing more frantic when the lock refused to give.
“Clara?” he shouted at the door. No answer.
“Did you forget who’s with you?” Chernor asked, pulling Kael aside. “If you need a door opened, all you need to do is knock.”
He swung his maul, blasting the wood open with ease. Kael rushed in, searching for Clara. Instead he found five servants huddled together on Clara’s bed.
“Where’s Clara?” he asked.
“We don’t know,” the oldest of the servants answered. “We locked ourselves in here when the soldiers started killing each other.”
Kael fought down a curse.
“The way out is safe,” Chernor told them. “Stay the night with family or friends. You don’t want to be here when the rest of Center’s army arrives.”
The servants hurried out, and Kael kicked a wall in the now-empty room.
“Stay calm,” Chernor said. “There’s a dozen other places she could be safely hiding.”
“Or she could be lying dead in a hallway somewhere,” Kael said. He felt his subdued worry breaking free in his chest, every possible nightmare scenario crawling through his mind.
Chernor put a hand on his shoulder.
“You can’t think like that,” he said. “Now come on. You said you know where
the dungeon is, right?”
Kael nodded, gaze locked on the bed, caught in flashes of memories of him and Clara together.
“Not for sure,” he said. “But I have a strong guess.”
“It’s the best we have to work with. Stay with me, Seraph. You still have responsibilities.”
Kael breathed in deep, then blew out all his weaknesses.
“I know,” he said. “Follow me.”
Kael led Chernor down the corridor, his destination the elaborate dining hall. Earlier in the day, they had hoped Clara could lead them to the dungeon entrance once they’d found her. Without her, Kael’s best guess was that the cells were located somewhere beyond the door from which Vyros had entered the grand dining hall. They passed more corpses on the way, and Kael checked every one. It was selfish, he knew, but each face that wasn’t Clara’s filled him with a sliver of relief.
The dining room door was ajar, and Chernor peered inside before backing away.
“A single knight’s in there,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I’ll rush in, and if I can’t kill him immediately, I’ll position his back to you. Once he’s distracted, take him out from the doorway with your ice.”
Kael nodded in affirmative, blue mist softly floating from his palm as he made the softest of mental connections with his prism. Chernor hefted his maul with both hands, breathed in deeply, and then charged through the doors of the dining hall. Kael counted to three, then peered around the corner to watch.
The angelic knight stood in the center of the dining hall. In his left hand he held a sword, its blade covered with the blood of three dead Weshern house guards lying at his feet. His other held a ball of flame that swirled steadily above his palm. The control was incredible, a feat Kael had never seen, never even known was possible. Chernor flew above him, darting about the high ceiling, anticipating an eventual attack. The knight tracked Chernor’s movements, waiting for the slightest mistake. His entire body looked ready to burst into motion, and Kael bit his lip as he debated attacking or waiting for a moment when the knight’s back was to him completely.
Chernor’s wings darkened, the Seraph suddenly descending for an attack, and then the ball of flame burst upward. At first it held together, but halfway to Chernor it exploded outward like blooming petals of a flower. Chernor shifted to one side, saw it wouldn’t be enough. The ball, which had started out as the size of a man’s head, looked wide enough to cover half the ceiling. Chernor tucked his arms and rolled, wings flaring to life to aid his speed as he dropped beneath the inferno. Fire charred the painted ceiling, the angelic figures now blackened splotches. The knight’s wings shimmered gold, and he crashed into Chernor before the Seraph could safely land. His sword clashed with the maul’s thick shaft. The men spun around one another, their weapons seeking flesh.
Kael watched them duel, thin wisps of blue frost gathered around the focal point of his gauntlet.
Should have taken the shot earlier, he berated himself. Now the two were incredibly close. Getting a clean shot would be difficult, if not impossible. The knight attempted a retreat, and Chernor chased, falling back only when a wide circle of flame flashed from the knight’s gauntlet. Chernor momentarily halted, ducking the fire, and the knight pounced at the opportunity, sword leading. Chernor twisted and kicked as their bodies rammed together, momentum carrying them to the floor. Together the men crashed atop the long dining table, wood shattering beneath their combined weight.
The humming of wings increased in volume as the knight leapt back into the air. Chernor shot a blast of lightning at the knight hovering above him, missed. Fire bellowed down, a tremendous blast dwarfed only by what Bree could unleash. Chernor rolled across the debris, trying to stand, but Kael knew he wouldn’t recover quickly enough.
“Get down!” Kael screamed as he stepped through the door and into the dining hall. Ice poured from his gauntlet. Chernor dove, and the stream crossed above him, forming a protective wall. The fire hit it. The ice melted, but it withstood long enough for the knight’s blast to end.
The knight glared Kael’s way. In response, Kael lifted his shield, braced his legs, and grinned.
“Am I interrupting?” he asked.
The knight lobbed a ball of flame straight for the doorway, then leapt into the air to avoid two shots of lightning from Chernor’s gauntlet. Kael ducked low and closed his eyes, establishing a mental connection, not with the ice prism in his gauntlet but instead with the light element hidden in the mechanisms of the shield. It flared brightly, and when the ball of flame struck he felt the impact but not the heat. His feet skidded a step back on the carpet, then held. When he lowered his shield, only black smoke remained of the attack.
The walls shook as the Chernor and the knight collided with one side of the dining hall, battling while Kael defended. Charging closer, Kael scanned for an opening as ice formed in the palm of his gauntlet. Chernor’s maul weaved through the air, twice missing, both times puncturing holes in the ceiling. A single hit would prove lethal, but the knight was too fast, too quick. The knight kicked off the ceiling, dipped underneath a streak of lightning, and then curled straight back up, sword lashing. Blood sprayed the air as Chernor rolled to one side, the sword slicing across his chest. He struck the wall with his shoulder, twisted, and then dropped.
Kael screamed, barely aware he was doing so. He soared into the air, gauntlet up, scattered shards of ice racing toward the knight. The knight circled, wings humming, ice shattering against the ceiling all around him. One icicle he even cut with his sword, deflecting it before it could find flesh. Distance closed between them, Kael flung his feet before him, reversing the angle of his wings to retreat. Bree was the sword fighter of the two; his only hope was to catch the knight with a shard of ice before being cut down like Chernor.
Kael’s escape wouldn’t be so easy. The momentary halt to his movement made him an easy target, and a burst of flame roared toward him, hungry and bright. Kael punched the throttle to his wings, painfully jerking himself out of the way. More ice lances flew from his gauntlet, bigger, sharper. The knight weaved through them as he chased, and running out of room, Kael rolled and tried to dash away to the other side of the dining hall.
Fire exploded before him, and panicking, Kael turned, far too hard for how fast he flew in such confined surroundings. He crossed the room, and despite shutting off his wings, there was little he could do prior to striking the opposite wall other than shift his shield to take the brunt of the damage.
The impact rattled Kael’s skull, and he fought to keep control. He more glided to the ground, left wing scraping along the wall. His shield landed beneath him, trapped by his own body. Still on his stomach, he tried to rise, but then the knight slammed on top of him. One heel hit his neck, the other pinned his right gauntlet to the ground to prevent any attempt at defense. The knight said nothing, only raised his gauntlet to unleash his flame.
A single lance of ice whistled through the air, puncturing through one side of the knight’s neck and out the other. The knight stiffened, mouth open in shock, blood pouring down and staining the ice purple. He dropped dead, and Kael turned to see Clara rushing into the room. She wore a silver pair of wings, but instead of black her Seraphim jacket and pants were white and hemmed with gold. They looked ceremonial, but there was nothing ceremonial about the ice shard that had slain their foe.
“Where have you been?” Kael asked her as she helped him up.
“Fighting my way here from the armory,” she said. “And you?”
“Looking for you and your parents,” Chernor said, wincing in pain as he staggered to his feet. His left arm pressed against the deep cut in his chest. “At least, we were. I won’t be much help now.”
Kael hurried over to him only to be pushed away.
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I’ll have to fly and maneuver like a newborn child, but I’ll be fine.”
“Most of the angelic knights and soldiers were at the public execution,” Clara said as she frowned at t
he blood. “Me and Kael can handle whoever’s left to guard my parents.”
“You sure about that?” Chernor asked.
Clara glanced toward him, and Kael nodded.
“Not in the slightest,” he said, grinning at the bigger man. “But we’re going to do it anyway, because we’re the only ones left who can. Get out of here, Chernor. That’s an order.”
Chernor choked out a laugh.
“You don’t order me around, you little whelp.”
“While you’re wounded and unable to hit me with that maul of yours, I sure as hell will.”
Chernor waved his hand in surrender.
“Stay safe, both of you,” he said, taking a step toward the door. He winced, his arm clutching his chest tighter, but he held in any cry of pain. “But if outside’s calm, I’m sending more Seraphim inside to replace me.”
Kael watched him leave, praying Chernor wasn’t downplaying how badly he’d been injured.
“The entrance to the dungeon’s this way,” Clara said when he was gone, and she pointed to the opposite door, the same one Vyros and her two older brothers had come from that first time he’d visited.
“Great,” Kael said, but instead of following her, he grabbed her wrist, pulled her close, and kissed her lips. She tensed for a moment, then relaxed as his arms wrapped about her.
“I’m so glad you’re safe,” he whispered when he finally pulled back.
“Me, too,” she said. Her hand brushed his forehead, and he winced. “That bruise is going to be amazing in a few hours. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Kael nodded. “Like I said, there’s no choice in the matter. Now lead on. We’ve your parents to rescue.”
Clara hurried through the door, into a dark corridor lit by long oval windows on the ceiling. At the far end of the corridor was a heavy metal door, halfway open. Stairs led deeper underground, the oval windows now tunnels through the dirt to allow in light. The walls were stone instead of wood, and Kael was thankful they were still wide; otherwise they’d have felt terribly claustrophobic.
Fireborn Page 27
