Magic Rises kd-6

by Ilona Andrews

  Go, I willed, go.

  A lean, darker bouda stopped and turned around. Raphael. Andrea skidded to a stop, a smaller slender creature.

  The first Iron Dog fell on them, a tall lean man, swinging an axe. Magic sparked and bit Andrea in the chest. She snarled and clawed the Iron Dog’s side. Raphael tore his stomach. The man swung, oblivious to his guts hanging out. The axe grazed Raphael. He batted it aside and sliced the man’s throat.

  Raphael and Andrea backed away, toward the gates.

  A huge woman, six and a half feet tall and wearing armor, ran at them. Eduardo wheeled about and charged, back toward the fight. Andrea and Raphael stepped to the side and he rammed into the woman. They struggled, locked in a deadly grappling match. Eduardo clamped her, and Raphael and Andrea ripped at her from both sides. She shuddered.

  At the gates, Aunt B handed George to Keira, spun around, and headed back.

  The three shapeshifters dragged the Iron Dog down, ripping her apart. An arm flew, tossed aside.

  The rest of the Iron Dogs were almost on them. I squeezed my fists. What are you doing? Go! Run.

  Aunt B grabbed Raphael and Andrea by their shoulders and hurled them back. Eduardo reared. She screamed at him. He hesitated a moment and ran toward the gates. Aunt B followed.

  The Iron Dogs were closing in, Hibla in the lead.

  Raphael and Andrea cleared the gates. The werebuffalo charged through with Aunt B at his heels.

  It wouldn’t help. The Dogs would chase them all the way to the ship. That ship couldn’t pull out fast enough.

  Aunt B stopped before the gates.

  No. No!

  She hit the winch on the side of the gate. The metal portcullis crashed down, cutting her off from the rest of the shapeshifters.

  Andrea screamed. I heard her even through the roar of the fire. Raphael grabbed the steel grate.

  Aunt B planted herself in front of the winch. She could scale the wall, but she stayed where she was. She was buying her son and Andrea time.

  Someone pulled Raphael away from the portcullis from the other side.

  The Iron Dogs were almost there.

  I had one more power word left in me. One more. I wasn’t getting off this tower anyway. I pulled together what weak magic I had left and spat it out. “Osanda.” Kneel, you bastards.

  The world turned red. The pain bent me in half. I slumped over the parapet. Magic burned my lips—blood streamed from my nose over my face.

  Three Iron Dogs directly by the keep plunged down. The rest closed on Aunt B. My magic didn’t reach far enough. It didn’t reach all of them.

  The first Iron Dog leaped, unnaturally high. He sailed over the flames, his human face turning into something monstrous, inhuman, and covered in needles. Aunt B jerked him out of the air, tore open his stomach, and threw him into the fire. He flailed, burning.

  Run! Go, climb the wall, get out of here. Go!

  A towering man charged at her from the left, swinging a huge blade, while another, smaller and faster one, lunged at her from the right. Aunt B grabbed the giant’s sword and tore it out of his hands. The smaller man sliced her side, and she backhanded him into the fire.

  The giant grabbed at her. The bouda thrust her claws into his gut and wrenched his intestines out. He howled, his mouth gaping open, and she pushed him aside.

  The Iron Dogs circled her, wary. Maybe she would get out of this. She had to get out of it.

  Hibla raised her hand. A man behind her bowed his head and began to chant. A mage.

  Aunt B shifted from foot to foot, watching them with red eyes.

  Get out of there, I willed. Go!

  The mage jerked his arms up and out. Three silver blades shot out of him, dragging silver chains behind them. Aunt B shied to the side, but the blades turned and pierced her chest and stomach, biting into the ground, their ends fusing at the last moment into a silver knot. For a second she stood frozen, the silver chains stretching behind her, wet with her blood.

  Oh God.

  The mage brought his arms together. The chains snapped taut, anchoring Aunt B in place. She strained, roaring—the silver was burning her. But the chains held. She could barely take a step.

  Hibla waved her arm. Two Iron Dogs stepped forward with crossbows.

  No, damn it, at least fight her. Fight her, you bastards.

  The first two bolts tore into Aunt B, the impact shaking her. She snarled, straining.

  Hibla nodded. I would find that bitch if I had to turn the entire fucking planet upside down. I would find her and I would kill her slowly.

  The crossbowmen reloaded. Two more bolts tore through her. I jerked as if I’d been shot.

  Another two.

  There would be no more sundresses.

  Two more bolts.

  She would never see her grandchildren. I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry so badly, but my face was dry.

  Two more bolts.

  She screamed and screamed and they shot her. And I was stuck here on top of the tower. I couldn’t even help her.

  Aunt B sagged. Her knees trembled. She lunged forward, her body bristling with arrows. She howled to the sky. The silver knot ripped through her stomach. Hibla shot forward, swinging a wide sword. The blade cut through Aunt B’s thick furry neck. Her head rolled to the ground.

  She died. She was really dead.

  They tossed her body aside like garbage and strained to raise the grate with the broken winch.

  A dark beast charged out of the fire. The massive bear scattered the remaining Iron Dogs like bowling pins. Too late, Mahon. Too late.

  I saw him rip into them, but staying upright was no longer an option. I sagged to the ground. My heartbeat was so loud in my ears. The bear would kill them all.

  I wanted to see Curran again. I wanted to close my eyes and imagine us back at the Keep in our rooms making love on top of the ridiculous bed . . .

  I had to get up. I had to get up and find him.

  I would get up. I just needed a minute. Just one minute.

  A lion’s roar rocked the night. It came from the right.

  I rolled onto my knees. My arm hurt. The gashes on my right leg were bleeding like there was no tomorrow. Something vital was cut, because the leg didn’t want to hold my weight.

  Crawling wasn’t an option. I struggled to get up. Easy does it. Come on, piece-of-shit legs. I could do this. I leaned on the wall and hauled myself upright. My right leg was going numb. If it’s not one leg, it’s the other. Just my luck.

  On the tower forty feet below me, Hugh and Curran fought, silhouetted among the flames. Three Iron Dogs stalked across the roof, keeping their distance from Curran, trying to flank him. Five bodies of Iron Dogs and two vampires sprawled, motionless. Curran had killed them. He’d fought his way out of that room, and he’d killed them all, because whatever Hugh had left would be right there with him on this roof. Hugh never played fair.

  Only Curran could’ve done this and survived.

  Hugh limped, favoring his left side. Curran watched him. Hugh was a big man, but Curran in a warrior form towered over Hugh. His blood-soaked hide, usually gray, now was black and red against the flames.

  Curran stayed still. My throat constricted. Usually Curran moved through the fight, unstoppable, using all of his momentum and speed. He wasn’t moving now, which meant he was near his limit. He had to fight all of them, while Hugh only had to fight him, and now Hugh had more stamina left. He was slowly cutting Curran down, piece by piece. It was what I would’ve done.

  Hugh struck, his sword shining with reflected flames. He moved forward with innate grace, fast and sure. Curran batted aside one strike. The second cut across his chest but fell too short. Curran lunged forward, but Hugh danced back.

  When I fought him, he’d muscled me, because it was his best chance. This was pure skill.

  Curran’s legs jerked. He snarled, shaking.

  Hugh charged him, bringing the sword up, and moved on his toes, looking for an opening. Crusader’s
strike. He would reverse the blade at the end. Dodge left, honey. Left.

  Oh God.

  The blade sliced through Curran’s side and Hugh withdrew in the same flawless move, but not before Curran’s claws scoured his arm. The Iron Dog behind Curran, a short woman, lunged at Curran, trying to slice across his back. The Beast Lord spun and smashed his fist into her. She flew across the tower, rolled, and clumsily rose to her feet.

  “It’s over, Lennart,” Hugh called.

  Curran didn’t answer.

  The Iron Dogs resumed their circling, trying to get behind Curran.

  Hugh raised his sword.

  Not again. I’d just watched Aunt B die. I wouldn’t sit here and watch him die, too.

  I limped back, turned, gritted my teeth, and ran. The edge of the roof rushed at me. I jumped.

  The air whistled past me. I saw the roof below and both Hugh and Curran staring up, their faces shocked.

  The blood armor peeled off my body, expanding into a bubble in midair. I bounced against the stones. The blood bubble burst and shattered into dry dust. I hit the stone hard and stayed there. I had survived. Now I had to keep surviving. My left arm was shot. My right leg was probably shot, too. My vision blurred.

  “Hey, baby,” Hugh said. “Nice of you to drop in. Take her.”

  My right arm was under me. I let go of Slayer and pulled the throwing knife out, hiding it with my body.

  The Iron Dogs moved toward me. The shorter woman was at the front of the pack. I let her get close.

  Hugh struck at Curran, swinging the sword in a wide arc. Curran moved forward. Hugh tossed the sword to his left hand, so fast it was as if he had two swords and one had disappeared, and slashed at Curran’s side. Curran lunged forward, but Hugh danced away. Damn it.

  The short woman grabbed my hair. I stabbed her in the foot, sliced the bend of her knee, waited half a second for her to crash down, and slit her throat.

  The two remaining Iron Dogs stopped. I crouched by the body, keeping my weight on my left knee.

  “What the fuck,” Hugh snarled. “Look at her, she’s half-dead. She isn’t even on her last leg. She can’t fucking stand and she’s cutting you down like you’re children. Bring her to me alive. Now, or I’ll kill you myself.”

  The two Iron Dogs advanced: a dark-skinned man, lean and hard, and a bigger, stockier blond in his early thirties.

  Hugh struck forward, thrusting to the upper chest. Curran dodged left. Hugh flipped his sword and slashed at Curran’s neck. Curran thrust forward, fast, aiming for Hugh’s left side with his huge claws. Hugh clamped his arm and stabbed Curran in the stomach. The blade sank in almost to the hilt. Hugh let go and leaped out of range.

  The blond was close enough. I shot up from my half-crouch. I couldn’t feel my leg, but it obeyed. I slashed across the blond’s chest, knocked aside his desperate thrust, and smashed my forehead into his face. He stumbled. I elbowed the other Iron Dog in the throat, stabbed him in the neck, spun about, and made a hole in the blond’s liver.

  Curran was on his knees. His head sagged. Hugh was walking toward him.

  I ran. My leg folded under me and I crashed.

  “Wait your turn.” Hugh raised his sword.

  Curran surged from his knees and grabbed Hugh, jerking him off his feet and pinning his arms to his body. Hugh smashed his head into Curran’s muzzle. Curran snarled, flipped Hugh into the air as if he weighed nothing, and slammed him over the stone parapet, back down. Hugh’s spine popped like a firecracker. He screamed. Curran heaved him up and hurled him into the flames.

  Magic punched me, a bright blue explosion shooting into the night from the spot where Hugh plunged down. Curran looked down, rocked back on his feet, and fell.

  I dragged myself to him and cradled his head in my arms.

  The werelion shuddered and turned human. Gray eyes looked at me. “Hey there, ass kicker.”

  “Hello, Your Furriness.”

  I kissed his bloody lips. He kissed me back.

  “The bastard teleported,” Curran grimaced. “Can you believe that?”

  “Screw him. He’s weak.”

  “I broke his back.”

  “I heard.”

  “He’ll feel it in the morning.”

  I laughed. It came out a little bloody.

  “Did our people get out?” Curran asked.

  “Most of them.”

  “You have to go now,” he said.

  “No.”

  “Yes. Both of my legs are broken and you can’t carry me.”

  I brushed the soot from his face. “How the hell did you manage that?”

  “He used magic. The bones fused wrong. It hurts a bit.”

  It probably hurt like hell.

  “Kate,” he said. “You’ll burn to death. Leave me and try to make it down into the yard before this place collapses.”

  “In a minute I’m going to get up and drag you to the edge of the tower. Then we’re going to jump over the wall.”

  “It’s fifty feet down,” he said. “That’s called suicide.”

  “Or death on our terms.”

  “Leave me, God damn it.”

  “No. It’s my turn to save us. We’re going to jump.” I coughed. The smoke was eating my lungs. I was so tired. “I’m just going to rest half a minute. My arm hurts a little.”

  I lay next to him.

  “Will you marry me?” Curran asked.

  “You’re asking me now?”

  “Seems like a good time,” he said.

  He deserved an honest answer. “If I marry you, then you’ll be my husband.”

  “Yes, that’s how it works.”

  Smartass. “I would be dragging you down with me.”

  “I thought we covered that.”

  “When the time comes, I can’t say, ‘Don’t fight him. He’s just someone who doesn’t matter.’ We would be married.”

  “Do you expect that I would hide behind that?” he asked. “Is that how little you think of me?”

  “No. I know you wouldn’t. I know it doesn’t matter to you, because you love me. It’s just something I tell myself when I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t fall asleep.”

  The heat was closer. We really had to get off this tower.

  “Is the offer still open?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “It’s a yes. I would love to be your wife.”

  I reached over. He took my hand and squeezed it.

  Magic cracked. The stone floor under me dropped. A smooth stone slid open under me. We rolled down it, all the way to the road, coming to a gentle stop. I blinked and saw Astamur standing next to a cart drawn by a donkey. The donkey and the shepherd regarded us.

  “Well?” Astamur asked. “Are you two going to lie there all night?”

  It wasn’t English, but I understood him all the same. I stared at him, openmouthed.

  “I would’ve rescued you sooner, but you were having an important relationship conversation.”

  “What the hell . . . ?” Curran struggled to get up.

  Now wasn’t the time to look the gift donkey in the mouth. I propped him up and half dragged, half carried him into the cart. He fell onto the boards. I fell next to him. The donkey moved, and the cart took us away from the castle.

  Fire shot out above the stone. Slowly, as if hesitating, the castle walls came apart and crashed down off the cliff, breaking into thousands of blocks as they fell.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “I told you, I’m the shepherd. I watch over these mountains.”

  “Are you immortal?”

  “No. Nobody is truly immortal. But I was born a very long time ago, when the magic was still strong. Then the magic waned and for a while I had to sleep. Now my power is back, and I am one with the mountains again.”

  “Why did you save us?” I asked.

  “Your father is cooked,” Astamur said. “I’ve known him for a long time. We met when the sea and the mountains were younger. No matter
what time and the world do to him, he won’t change. He is what he is. You’re not so bad. You try too hard and you lust for blood, but your heart is good.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “One day you will have to decide where you stand,” he said. “I have hope for you, so I tell you the same thing I told your father. If you come to these mountains with open hands, I will welcome you, but if you come holding a sword, you will die by it.”

  “What did her father decide?” Curran asked.

  “He chose not to come at all, which is an answer in itself. There are ancients in the world, like him and me. They are waking up. Your father, he will want to use you. Soon you might have to make a stand.”

  “Do you think I can win?” I asked.

  “Against your father? No, not now.” Astamur said. “Perhaps in time. A smart warrior chooses the time of battle.”

  “I will remember that.”

  The donkey clopped, his hoofbeats really loud. Salty wind bathed my face. I realized we were on the pier.

  “The ship has pulled away but there is a boat coming back. They are planning on rescuing you from the castle,” Astamur said. “It’s nice to have friends.”

  I raised my head and saw Andrea and Raphael in the boat.

  Ten minutes later we were hauled onto the deck of the Rush. Andrea sat me down gently by the cabin. I leaned against the wall. Curran lay down next to me. His legs didn’t look right. They would have to be rebroken. My bones hurt just thinking about it.

  Derek rested on his stomach, his back covered with burns. Keira was bloody. Eduardo’s whole body was covered with soot and burns. Mahon cradled George, tears in his eyes. Her arm was missing. Shit.

  “It will be fine, Dad,” she told him.

  “What will I tell your mother . . .”

  “You will tell her that I saved a woman during childbirth.” George glanced to the length of sailing canvas where Desandra curled with two naked babies.

  Barabas asked me quietly, “What about Desandra?”

  “What about her? Unless she wants us to drop her off somewhere, we’re taking her with us. Where else is she going to go?”

  Everyone was bloody, beat up, and grieving.

  “Finally,” Saiman said. “We can be under way.”

  Christopher came to stand by me and smiled.