“Best for us to hear your stories when she’s around to add her own parts,” Aaron replies, tightly gripping his son’s forearm. “Now go be a hero. Even though our reunion has been short, know that we are very proud of the man you’ve become. Your return has helped give us strength to carry on and survive the coming hardships. I love you, Delvin . . . Cunningham? You may have to explain that name to me one day.”
“It’s a simple tale, but the look on Lucy’s face tells me that she’s ready to carry me off in her beak,” Delvin replies, tears welling up in his eyes. With a shuddering breath, he gives his parents a hug and kisses his mother on the cheek. “I love you, mom and dad. I’m so happy to see that you’re still alive and don’t believe I’m a ghost. No matter where I was, I knew both of you were people that I could be proud of. After all, I had to get my brains and charm from somewhere.” The warrior bats the griffin away as it tries to nuzzle his head. “I know, Lucy. Just give me a few more seconds to say good-bye.”
The hug lasts a little longer and Delvin barely manages to let go without holding his parents tighter. Wiping tears from his face, the warrior climbs onto the griffin and waits for the children to enjoy one more touch of the beast’s warm fur. He waves to everyone as his friend carries him into the sky and makes a slow loop around the mesa. A roaring screech echoes throughout the plains as the griffin bursts into her top speed and rockets toward the north. Delvin watches his homeland blur beneath them before he holds his shield out on front of him.
“Nyx, I want to come home,” he whispers, causing the winged stag to shine. The rainbow energy coats him and the griffin, revealing the most direct path to the channeler. “Don’t hold back, Lucy. Go as fast as you can and hit that bastard hard.”
*****
Trinity and Nyx shiver as the northern winds whip at their bodies, which are covered by the remains of the once enchanted tent. They huddle for warmth and try to use what little magic they can muster to keep the elements at bay. Neither of the channelers are able to access their full aura thanks to their connection to Stephen, every attempt met with a jarring surge of agony. Nyx puts her arm around her rival, the half-elf’s natural heat making her more resistant to the cold. Her eyes never leave their captor, who is pacing along the edge of the ice, his bare skin showing no signs of frostbite. She imagines turning his puffs of breath into acid before they can leave his mouth and then knocking him into the ocean with enough force to drive him to the bottom. The smirk on Trinity’s face tells her that similar, possibly more vicious, thoughts are going through the chaos elf’s mind. Nyx is so amused by her own dreams that she never notices Stephen looking at her with a sadistic glint in his eyes.
“Did you know that I can break you at any moment?” he asks, spinning the elegant longsword in his hand. He jams the weapon into the ice and approaches his prisoners to stroke their cheeks. “Both of you continue to act like you will be saved. I expect that from the foolish champion, but you surprise me, your highness. If you were going to be saved from me then it would have happened already. You know better than your fellow channeler that the only reason she has remained untouched is because I want to kill her friends in front of her. That will make our first time much more enjoyable for me. Might even put some fight into you, champion. If not then I’ll settle for docile and whimpering. At this point, I’m not going to be picky as long as I feel your pulse race and your spirit shatter.”
“I’m getting tired of your mouth,” Nyx growls as she tries to stand. A smack across the face sends her crashing into the icy ground, the pristine surface cracking from the impact. “Are you getting weaker? That one didn’t even leave my ears ringing.”
Trinity deflects Stephen’s punch with a burst of icy wind, the exertion causing her to fight back another wave of nausea. “You keep wasting your time. We all know you won’t kill Nyx and you’re only going to heal her again. Just be patient and you’ll get your fight. Beating us won’t make the champions get here any faster.”
“It helps me pass the time,” Stephen replies, curiously eyeing the chaos elf. Wrapping the tether between them around his hand, he gets closer and gently grabs her by the chin. “There is something off about you. I can feel it in your aura, which is weaker than I expected. You’ve been ill for this entire journey, but you haven’t gotten worse or better like one would from a disease. Perhaps I took you from Yola and my father too early. It’s entirely possible that your aura wasn’t fully repaired and I’ve crippled you forever. That would make you less desirable and expendable once I have Nyx under my thumb.”
“You don’t want to do anything like that,” Nyx coos, taking his hand away from the other woman. She does her best to imitate Trinity’s successful attempts at diverting his attention and making him forget his sinister thoughts. “She still knows all of your habits and there’s something to be said for old . . . toys. Besides, you need all the power you can gather to face your father. The Baron still has Yola Biggs, demons, and the Weapon Dragons on his side. Killing Trinity would cause her people to side with your enemies too.”
“Are you attempting to manipulate me?” Stephen asks with a predatory growl. He licks his lips and grins, running his fingers along the half-elf’s arm. “You make a good point, but you’re terrible at acting cute. Not when your eyes tell me that you wish to rip my throat out. That’s a beautiful look that I hope you keep for our entire life together.”
Nyx arches away as his hand moves to her neck and roughly rubs her jaw. “Only an idiot would see that desire and continue pushing my buttons. You can’t keep me contained forever, especially if you’re trying to control Trinity too. I promise that this will blow up in your face and destroy you. If you kill my friends, I’ll spend the rest of my life finding a way to end you. Every time you touch me, I will draw your blood and fight you with all of my strength. Unlike Trinity, you won’t have anything to hold over my head. So I will never play nice. I will always hate you. I-”
With aura wrapped around his hand, Stephen strikes Nyx in the throat to stop her from talking. The half-elf’s neck swiftly turns black and blue while she sucks in wheezing gasps of air through her damaged wind pipe. She tries to speak, but the magic delivered by the chuckling madman coils around her vocal chords. The pain drives her to her knees and she continues making strange noises in an attempt to curse and scream. Trinity tenderly eases Nyx to the icy ground and tries to use what little magic she has to prevent the other woman from choking to death. It takes all of her concentration to create a breathing tube of force that does not make the injury worse. Neither of the channelers notice Stephen summoning his sword to his hand with the intention of loping off his prisoners’ body parts and regenerating them until he gets bored with their suffering.
The building roar of wind catches the immortal warrior’s attention since the arctic gales have abruptly stopped. A burst of sound shakes the icy coast, sending narrow cracks throughout the slick surface. With a roaring screech, the griffin rockets around a nearby ridge and passes overhead. The wind created by its hurtling speed and powerful wings is strong enough to launch Stephen off his feet. With a shocked expression, he sails over the ocean and bounces several times before slamming into a distant iceberg. The jagged formation crumbles into the water and drags the disoriented immortal into the depths where hungry beasts are drawn to his shining form. As she wheels toward the coast, the griffin already sees the ocean turning red from the blood that her enemy is spilling beneath the waves.
“Go back to the others and prepare to swoop in for a rescue,” Delvin says as he leaps off the griffin and waves to three forms on a distant ridge. He stops a few feet from Nyx and feels his blood boil when he sees her struggling to breathe. “On second thought, stay in the air and circle the area. If you see a chance to take Trinity and Nyx away then go for it. Don’t challenge Stephen unless I fall. Tell the others the same thing.”
Crysvale shakes as an explosion of red-tinted liquid and butchered sea creatures erupts off the coast. As the sticky rain falls
, Stephen calmly walks to the shore while dragging the barbed head of a massive sea serpent. He tosses the scaly trophy at the silhouettes that are waiting on the distant ridge, all of them ducking to avoid the hideous projectile. The blood and wounds disappear from the immortal’s body and he strokes his chin in thought. His dark blue eyes never stray from where the bulk of his enemies are lurking and he wonders why only Delvin and Luke are bothering to face him. A snarl of anger slips from his throat when he concludes that the champions are insulting him and do not believe he is worth their full strength.
“Even after the beating they took, your friends think I’m some simple henchman,” Stephen says, finally turning his attention to the warrior before him. A sickeningly sweet aroma hits his nose when he takes a confident step toward Delvin. “I didn’t even set a trap. This was your best chance to give me everything you had from the beginning and all I get is the mercenary. The animal won’t even come close after that first attack. What do I have to do to get a real battle out of you people?”
“You already did it,” Delvin growls.
The warrior charges with his bastard sword out to his side, the keen edge glinting in the sunlight. Stephen raises his blade to meet the attack, but leaps to the side when he notices that something is strange about the gleam of his enemy’s weapon. Curiosity and caution taking hold, the bare-chested immortal continues to dodge while faint pulses of magic graze him every time Delvin swings. When he is sure there is no threat, Stephen leaps forward to deliver a crushing blow that slams into the champion’s shield. A blast of white aura bursts from the disc, sending the black-haired man skidding back a few feet. Steam wafts off both warriors while Delvin’s bastard sword flickers with his released power.
Grinning at the unexpected challenge, Stephen sprints forward only to teleport to his enemy’s left. His blade is deflected and he feels a tremor of pain run through his arm. At the same time, he senses a surge run along the tethers and sees the channelers shudder. Leaning away from a slash to his face, he grabs Delvin by the throat and hurls him at the ocean. Stephen enjoys the time to gather his thoughts, but curses when the griffin swoops in to catch the champion and deliver him back to the shore.
“That damn forest tracker is annoying me,” Stephen whispers before standing straight. He breaks out in laughter and holds out his palm to create a fireball. “I don’t know what tricks you learned while away, but your power is nothing more than an irritant. You barely have control of it while I have the magic of two channelers at my fingertips. I’m sure you already knew that thanks to your friend.”
“Cowardly bastards like you always talk to hide your fear,” Delvin replies as he circles his enemy. With a grin, he points his sword at Stephen and makes lazy circles with the blade, leaving a trail of magic in its wake. “You’re sweating, little warlord. Even though you want to put on a show, you’re not sure you can beat me. That confidence is nothing more than a fragile mask, which is hiding a pathetic worm who is still pouting after a superior creature put him in his place. How many centuries have you been trying to prove you’re a force to be feared instead of pitied?”
Unleashing a rage-filled roar that echoes throughout the tundra, Stephen releases a plume of fire that transforms into a long-fanged serpent. Instead of leaping away, Delvin stabs forward to cleanse the dark energy from the magical construct. With the spell composed only of Nyx’s aura, the serpent harmlessly coils around the warrior and stretches to bite at its creator. Stephen blasts it with a spray of ice, forcing Delvin to dive through the flames that harden into stone behind him. The champion rolls to his feet in time to block a strike that numbs his shield arm. Slashing with his aura-laced blade, he manages to graze his enemy’s stomach. The burning cut bubbles and hisses as Stephen attempts to heal the wound, his power unable to remove the hideous scar from his flesh. Eye twitching and drool falling from his mouth, the immortal teleports behind his enemy and savagely kicks him into an icy hill. The structure collapses around Delvin as Stephen hurls a barrage of sizzling arrows into the wreckage.
Only the sound of crumbling ice can be heard and there is no sign of the champion. Stephen walks toward the pile of rubble while tossing his sword from one hand to the other. When he gets within a few steps of the decimated hill, Delvin bursts from the ice and attacks with several precise swings. White aura coats the warrior’s body and several of the heat arrows stick out of his skin. The projectiles are rejected from his flesh to reveal shallow puncture wounds that are plugged with magic. Stephen is forced to run backwards, his blade expertly deflecting the dancing bastard sword. Every attempt at a counterattack is met by Delvin’s shield, which creates an opening for a dangerous slash. The growling immortal breaks his own bones and dislocates joints to avoid the attacks, but he still earns a few gashes across his arms and sides. As before, Stephen is only able to heal the damage he inflicts on himself while the cuts from the champion turn into burning scars.
An icy gale strikes Delvin in the face and blinds him long enough for his opponent to grab him by the arm. Stephen slams the other warrior in the face with his own shield and hurls him against an icy wall. He charges at the stunned champion and grins when he is met by an expected flurry of strikes. The immortal deflects two of the attacks and vanishes, reappearing above Delvin to launch a blast of lightning. The spell changes into a geyser of emerald acid that the warrior is barely able to avoid, the ground where he once stood being eaten down to the ocean below. Before the champion can stand, Stephen is on his right and madly swinging his longsword. Several of the blows hit and leave deep slices before the blade is shoved away by Delvin’s aura. The immortal delivers a devastating chop that rings against his enemy’s shield and knocks the other man to the ground.
By the time Delvin scrambles back on his feet, Stephen has disappeared again and the tundra has becoming eerily silent. Hearing the incoming spell before he can see it, the champion narrowly blocks a beam that sends a faint tickle of pain through his bones. Sensing movement behind him, the swordsman stabs down to impale his enemy’s foot and delivers a shield punch to the gut. A savage strike to the back of his head sends Delvin face first into the ice and the attack repeats itself until he is struggling to remain conscious. When he attempts to rise, a pillar of wind erupts from below and launches him into the air. The champion lands with an echoing thud and skids, stopping with his head over the edge of the shore. He tries to stand and feels nothing more than agony, which runs deep into his core.
“You gave me plenty of scars, but you’re still too weak,” Stephen says as he appears over Delvin and spits in his face. He coats the warrior in ice, leaving only the man’s head and chest exposed. “I don’t know what you are and I don’t care. Too many champions can mar my perfect body. So I’m going to kill you and your winged pet. I’ll eat both of your hearts just for kicks too. You should have stayed away, Cunningham, and left your friends to their fate.”
Stephen’s sword rises into the air and is about to be drive toward its target when another surge of power rolls through the area. He cannot move his body as something tugs at his back, eventually having enough strength to yank him off Delvin. Twisting his head, he sees Nyx pulling on the tethers that connect him to the two channelers. The half-elf is dripping with magic while gasping for air, her throat still severely injured. A pulse runs along the cord between Trinity and Stephen, draining him of her power before the connection breaks. The chaos elf seems to snap out of a deep trance and holds her stomach while backing away from the other woman.
With only one connection left, Stephen focuses on Nyx and attempts to access more of her magic. The brief opening is all the channeler needs to reach out with her power and catch her tormentor’s aura. Before he realizes what is happening, a phantasmal version of Stephen is yanked from his body and slammed onto the icy ground. A grinning specter has his essence by the throat and drags it within reach of the channeler. The long-haired ghost sinks back into the half-elf’s body, giving her skin a crimson shine. Her fist covered in silv
er fire and ebony lightning, Nyx strikes Stephen’s aura with all of her rage and strength. It is a blow that shakes Crysvale and sends a pain stabbing through her enemy’s chest. Thin lines appear within the squirming energy before a scream erupts from the winds and the channeler delivers another punch. The immortal’s phantom shatters with an ear-wrenching noise and the remains are scattered across the globe, leaving him angry and shivering in the cold.
“My magic is gone,” Stephen mutters, his teeth chattering from the arctic winds. Frost is appearing on his exposed skin, but he is too crazed to notice the dangerous elements. “You violated me! Nobody violates me!”
Stephen charges at the fainting channeler and raises his blade to cleave her head in half. He is within reach when another sword slices off his hand, the body part falling to the ground with his weapon. Delvin blocks the man’s punch, which fills the air with the sound of fingers splintering against the shield. The bastard sword slices cleanly through Stephen’s neck and his eyes continue darting from side to side as his head tumbles to the ice. Everyone holds their breath as they wait for the immortal to heal from the fatal injury, but the body merely topples forward and remains motionless.
“I told you that I’d be the one to kill you, Stephen,” Delvin says as his aura flickers and his wounds begin to bleed. He falls to his knees next to Nyx and the pair lean against each other before passing out from their injuries.
19
The first thing Nyx sees is a blue ceiling that sparkles with crystals embedded in the painted stone. A gentle breeze sends the yellow curtain behind her bed into the air and fills her nose with the scent of a nearby garden. The clink of empty bottles and the shuffling of feet remind her of being in a hospital, but her lack of bandages makes her doubt that she is in need of medical attention. The channeler’s throat aches when she turns toward some familiar voices and finds her friends sitting around a table. Nyx gets scared when she realizes that Delvin is not with the others and tries to call out. A violent cough sends spots of blood out of her mouth while a hand touches her shoulder. Without looking, the half-elf gives the warrior a hug, letting go when he whimpers in pain. Again she tries to speak, but her heavily damaged throat closes and causes her to struggle for air.
The Mercenary Prince (Legends of Windemere Book 9) Page 39
