by D. E. Morris
If Jessiah's goal was to anger Cavalon enough to get him back on his feet it was working. The Badarian braced himself against the wall and tried to employ the same move Jessiah had just used. The younger man had been half expecting it, however, and stepped out of the way, jerking his knee up for Cavalon to run into and be caught by, and drove his elbow into Cavalon's back, flattening the man.
“The baby was one I found in one of the ground villages of your new kingdom,” Jessiah revealed. Behind them Ashlynn's whimpers were turning into cries of sharp pain. “Can you believe how trusting these people are that they would leave a sleeping babe alone in a room with no locked window? It was practically an open invitation!”
“What did you do with it?” Cavalon grunted, struggling to his feet.
“The baby?” Jessiah shrugged. “When I saw you running my way I dropped it into the ocean.”
“You monster!” Reaching out, Cavalon grabbed one of Jessiah's feet and gave a mighty pull, knocking him on his back. Wasting no time, Cavalon threw himself on top of Jessiah and threw another punch to the other side of his face, then another. Before he could land another, Jessiah managed to grab onto a large rock and swing up to hit Cavalon in the side of the head. With the Badarian momentarily stunned, Jessiah shoved him aside and struggled to his feet.
Cries of pain turned into a wail. Ashlynn's heavy-lidded eyes were opened wide and she was focused on Cavalon. She was alive, purposefully alive, as though Jessiah wanted her to feel every bit of pain. She strained against the leather ties around her, panting, sweat pouring from her brow.
Jessiah turned and pointed his sword at her, his calm expression macabre under his mask of blood. “I gave you a choice, Ashlynn. I did. I said you could just surrender to me and I'd take it easy on you because I liked you. I really liked Lilia, too, but you had to struggle...had to fight me. It's your fault you're going to die this way.”
Cavalon found his wits enough to look around for his mace. From his peripheral he could see Rowan's head turn to the side. With Jessiah distracted, Cavalon crawled to the little girl and took her face in his hands. “Rowan! Rowan, wake up. I need your help.”
“No!” Jessiah ran for him and kicked him in the stomach. “Two against one is bad form!”
“No more games,” Cavalon grunted. He pulled himself to his feet and balled his hands into fists, fyre leaking between his fingers to crawl up his arms. “You want to fight, let's do it.” All Jessiah could do was grin before he threw himself at Cavalon.
Ashlynn's pain was reaching a breaking level and her voice cracked as she screamed and sobbed. It was raw and rough, and it was enough to pull Rowan from whatever drugged sleep she'd been put into. Her eyes opened slowly and she looked around as though trying to get her bearings. She heard Cavalon and Jessiah fighting, but when Ashlynn screamed again, her attention was captured.
“Ashlynn?”
The little girl tried to get up but fell back down, dizzy. She rolled over onto her stomach and followed the sound of the cries as she crawled forward. Neither of the men saw her as they battled back and forth. Cavalon's mace had been retrieved and was now on fyre as well. They were evenly matched for a few passes but Cavalon, finally seeing where she was going, yelled, “Rowan, down!” and shoved Jessiah back hard enough to send him skittering. Rowan curled in on herself just before Jessiah tripped over her and fell over backward. Leaping over her, Cavalon tackled Jessiah to keep him down and pummeled him with fiery fists.
“Shift, Rowan,” Cavalon commanded. “You have to shift!”
“I can't!”
“You have to do it!” He took a hit to the face from a wild swing from Jessiah but managed, “You have to save Ashlynn.”
Those were the magic words. The little girl got to her hands and knees and lowered her head, concentration on her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the ground. Seconds passed and nothing happened, but then her body began to change. Her little fingers began to turn blue, elongating and thinning out, forming webs in between each digit. Skin slowly turned into scales as clothing and hair faded away and became part of her body. Her high pitched scream came as a tail sprouted from behind her, turning into a roar as the transformation completed itself.
“Is this how we're going to do it?” Jessiah panted, still struggling to get Cavalon off of him, his skin burned and bleeding. “If you have broken the rules and added another player, I have no choice but to even the odds.”
The air that had been heavy with summer humidity suddenly felt very cold. Cavalon paused in his attacks and looked around, on guard. There didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary, but beneath him Jessiah was laughing. “It's all over. All of it.” The shadows that had never been menacing before were taking on shape, pinpricks of red eyes everywhere Cavalon looked. And still Jessiah laughed. “I have won just as I said I would. Once this is over I will have the blood of four Elementals.”
Cries from above made Cavalon look up. The sky was getting lighter by the minute which made it easy to pick out the familiar shapes of the black dragons that circled overhead.
“Goodbye, Cavalon,” said Jessiah with one final laugh. “Goodbye.”
Waves of beings poured from the surrounding forest, down over the stadiums seats like a black river. Dragons fell from the sky with murderous screeches. Rowan, still unsure of her new form, scurried forward toward Ashlynn's weakening sobs. She was awkward in her movements and slow in coordination which made her an easy target for the descending black dragons. They fell upon her like vultures on a rotting animal and she cried, twisting and twitching as she tried to rid herself of the vermin.
Cavalon rolled off of Jessiah and spun his mace, ready to take on the mass of enemies rushing toward him. Happy with the outcome, Jessiah got sluggishly to his feet and looked toward Ashlynn. She was leaning as far forward in her seat as the restraints would allow. Vomit was all over the front of her dirty gown and dripping from her mouth, her eyes bloodshot and open wide.
“No, no, no!” Running over, Jessiah crouched before her and checked over her torture device. “We can't do this too quickly.” He pulled a lever back and pushed another forward. A small wooden cup was dipped into the basin of boiling water and Jessiah brought it to his lips, blowing on it. “Give it a minute. It's too hot right now.” He blew the rising steam away a moment longer before tasting it himself. “There we are.” He was gentle as he took her chin in his hand and lifted the cup to her lips. Ashlynn drank greedily, unable to take her gaze from his. “All right, slow down. You're all right. I need you aware enough to be able to shift before you die.”
“Why...” she panted, “are you doing this?”
Jessiah blinked. “Don't you know? I need the blood of all six Elementals. And I need that book.”
“For what?”
A cry high above them prevented Jessiah from answering. He looked up to where the sky was brightening with the rising sun, now lit by the flames that covered the giant form of the Fire Elemental. He dove down to lead an army of Gaels into the battle. Some of them shifted before they hit the ground to fight as men while others fought as beasts. From the backs of a few jumped Jaryn, Wessely, Elas, Cailin, and Kenayde.
“No.” Jessiah was dumbfounded. “No!” He turned to Ashlynn, glaring as though it were all her fault. Then with a savage grunt he shoved forward the one lever he'd pulled back before running out into the fight.
She could feel it the moment the concoction touched her veins. It was icy and searing all at the same time, like her blood was freezing in place and burning through her insides. With the full force of the potion being forced into her it was only a matter of seconds before a scream built in her throat and she could contain herself no longer.
Jessiah was quick to have Ashlynn surrounded by his own Gaels and soldiers. He was determined not to let anyone reach her, not when he was so close to getting what he wanted. With so many bodies within a limited space he found it easy to take a few steps back and let his men do the fighting for him. This
allowed him the luxury of simply watching the destruction going on around him. Each and every time one of his own was kicked down they would simply get back up a few moments later. There was no way he could lose.
There was a guttural yell to his side and Jessiah turned in time to see Jaryn break through and come running toward him, broadsword in hand. Jessiah took a step back and spun, shoving Jaryn from behind and sending him hurtling into a group of black knights. All of them converged on him, but his own people were there to help break him free. Wessely and Elas could be seen among the chaos and managed to cut down those who had been holding Jaryn, pushing him back into the open area where Jessiah stood.
“You goatish rump-faced codpiece!” Only Jessiah stood between Jaryn and the sagging form of Ashlynn. Her screams had quieted and were replaced by helpless whimpers, which only made Jaryn more desperate to get to her. “How dare you betray the trust I put in you by letting you into my home, in the company of my wife and child!”
“It's not personal,” said Jessiah, gripping his sword in preparation, “I assure you. All a means to an end.”
“Not personal?” Jaryn echoed. “Well neither is this!” He bolted forward to charge the younger man but was met with Jessiah's sword. It was only luck that had Jaryn duck so as not to be hit. He brought his own sword up to strike but was blocked and returned by Jessiah. Unlike his match with Cavalon, Jaryn and Jessiah seemed to be evenly matched. When one struck the other blocked; when one lunged the other dodged. They moved back and forth across the small open area. Jaryn tried several times to position himself between his wife and Jessiah, but the younger man was too smart for him and was quick to gain any footing he may have lost.
“Volarim!” someone shouted.
Sure enough there were more winged creatures joining the fight. Jessiah pretended to let his attention be captured by the new arrivals and when Jaryn sprang at him he leaned and swung his blade, catching Jaryn in the side under his ribs. Jaryn doubled over and cried out in pain before Jessiah mercilessly yanked his sword free and shoved Jaryn away. Deeply wounded, Jaryn faltered and staggered forward and past Jessiah.
“No!” Jessiah reached out for him but couldn't stop Jaryn from losing his footing and stumbling into the contraption Ashlynn was hooked up to. He fell onto the side of it with his full weight, not enough to break it but enough to dislodge the water basin and knock over the glass vial that was collecting Ashlynn's blood. It fell and the fragile glass broke, soaking the ground in a deep crimson.
“What have you done!”
Blood still trickled from the tube in her arm and Jessiah raced to Ashlynn, kneeling before her. He grabbed the basin and upturned it to get rid of what was left of the water. Hastily, he pulled the tube from the glass shards and let it rest in the shallow container before putting the whole thing in her lap.
On the other side of the living barricade, Cavalon could see Jaryn struggling to his feet. The wound in his side was deep and already colored his tunic. As injured as he was he'd never be able to best Jessiah. If they couldn't manage to shift the tide of this battle he would lose not only Ashlynn, but Jaryn as well.
The Badarian swung his mace in a circle above his head, clearing off those that were trying to attack him from above, before crouching and doing the same to his foes on the ground. Once he had more room to move, he ran farther away from the heart of the battle and looked around. A plan was beginning to form itself in his mind but he needed the right number of people to be involved for it to work.
“Badru!” He was fighting somewhat nearby and disentangled himself from battle so as to be free to jog over to where Cavalon stood apart. “I need you to gather as many Gaels as possible and have them ready to attack Jessiah. I know you can't shift here, but I need you to use fyre and clear the sky above him as much as possible. Then, when the coast is clear, set the Gaels on him.”
“What about Jaryn?”
“Get him out of there. I don't want to risk losing him, too.”
Trying to catch his breath and keep up with Cavalon's line of thinking, Badru asked, “And what about you?”
Cavalon was already walking away. “Just hurry.”
He didn't wait to see if Badru would follow instructions; there was no doubt in his mind that his old friend wouldn't hesitate. Still he held back, taking on the odd adversary on the outreaches of the fighting and waiting for the right moment. He watched Jaryn as he charged at Jessiah and received another slash to his body, this time his back. Ashlynn was completely motionless in the background, eyes closed. If she wasn't already gone she was close to it.
A flash of blue was a sign that Elas had broken through. Sure enough he and Wessely were fast on their feet, Wessely taking Jaryn by the arms and pulling him away from Jessiah while Elas cut through all the ties that held Ashlynn in the chair. Jessiah screamed at the water dragon and ran for him as he pulled Ashlynn toward him. Elas covered Ashlynn with his body and prepared to take the hit but was grabbed by the hair and pulled off of her, leaving her to fall to her back on the ground.
Her breathing was ragged and shallow and she wanted nothing more than for all the pain to leave. She didn't have to fight. Lochlainn would carry on the legacy. All she had to do was close her eyes and drift away and she might have done that were it not for the tickling sensation all over her body. It slithered up her skin like worms coming up from the ground, slow and slimy. It took every ounce of strength within her to open her eyes. The battle still raged around her; Elas and Jessiah were blurred in tough combat several feet away, but right before her was her hand, palm slightly opened to the sky. She could see the bare skin of her arm and what was causing the tickling as tiny vines sprouted forth from the ground. They crawled up her arm and turned the skin between them into a different color and texture like wood. A tiny light blinked to life in her hand hovering between her palm and her fingers. As Ashlynn watched, the light grew and unfolded, becoming a small flower to rest in her care. It was the last thing she saw before she lost consciousness.
Cavalon ran back toward the battle, golden eyes sweeping the faces as he looked for one in particular. He called for Nuala before he could find her and she soared above the chaos. Waving his hands, Cavalon drew her attention and yelled up to her. “Can you lift me?” It was the exact question he'd asked her last year when they'd been in the middle of a battle similar to this one. “I mean really lift me?”
“How high?”
“As high as you can go.”
She gave a decisive nod and flew low enough to grasp his hands in her own. Then, with a mighty beat of her fiery wings, she lifted and he yelled, “Badru, now!”
The higher they went, the better it was to see the entire arena. All of the black Gaels and knights looked like ants that were trying to set upon everyone else and destroy them. He watched Badru throw balls of fyre at the black dragons above Jessiah to clear the way. The young man was beginning to panic by the look of it, and was desperately seeking a way through the crowd for an escape.
“I cannot go any higher,” Nuala panted, the weight of Cavalon becoming hard for her to hold.
“Just a few more minutes,” he promised. As the Gaels began to swarm, he finally saw Kenayde off to the side with a human Rowan in her arms. Once the chaos set in there was no time to see where the little girl was or what was happening to her. Knowing she was safe put him a little more at ease.
“Cavalon...” Nuala groaned.
“Hang on.” A cloud of bodies formed over Jessiah, blocking him from the colorful sky of dawn overhead. “Now!”
Nuala let go and Cavalon fell to the earth like a weight, air whistling past him as he descended. Everything that had grown so small was getting bigger and bigger by the moment, the sounds of battle momentarily lost now reaching his ears. In a split second it all went black. There was no sound, no sight, nothing but the feeling of his body shifting and changing. He knew from the moment he and Jessiah found Mairead's carriage that he could shift to human with great speed, much quicker than he
knew was possible. Now it was time to test just how quickly he could turn from man to beast.
The transformation began with scales covering his skin in a racing speed, wings and tail growing at the same time. The last of it was the giant maw that formed. He gave a great bellow just meters above the ground and sent the Gaels scattering, leaving Jessiah alone without escape. Cavalon fell upon him with a great pounce, taking the screaming man in his mouth and bearing down on him with sharp teeth as he flung his wings wide and caught the updraft just in time to avoid crashing. Jessiah screamed once more as Cavalon opened his mouth and flung him up, then swallowed him down in one gulp.
All at once the black dragons and the knights with red eyes exploded into ash that blew away and faded into nothingness. The field was left with warriors falling over on one another, the weight of blows for their enemies no longer there driving them forward. There was only a fraction left unmoving on the field, and Ashlynn was one of them.
Once more the shift came quickly to Cavalon. He changed mid-air and landed heavily, breaking into a run to join the others surrounding Ashlynn. “Get back,” the Badarian ordered, trying to make some room. He found Jaryn collapsed beside her and called quickly for Nuala. “Help him if you can.”
“What about Ashlynn?” The demanding question came from Wessely, crouched on the other side of her.
“I don't know.” He'd never seen anything like the sort of cocoon the vines had wrapped her in. He looked at the basin where a small amount of her blood had collected, then at the broken shards of the vial Jessiah had been using. “He bled her out.”
“I will not let her die!” Wessely managed to slide his hands under her and pulled her to him, snapping the vines and making them shrink back into the ground. “Nuala, can you save her?”
The winged queen shook her head. Her hands pressed to the deep wound in Jaryn's side as a warm light pulsed underneath from her healing. “There is magic in her that my powers cannot fight. I am not a full blooded Phoenix. My powers are weak against magical injuries.”
