by Mark Albany
Norel nodded, and I wasn’t surprised to see even Braire agreed with me. It took Aliana a few seconds longer to come into agreement, but I assumed that was coming from a different place.
“Give the command to the men on the front lines,” Norel said, guiding us over to where a handful of the nobles were sitting in awkward silence with the elves who had so recently joined their ranks. “They are not to let up on the assault. Maintain pressure at all times but take no unnecessary risks. Take that hill only if convenient.”
“Ma’am,” Gahar said with a firm nod, his helmet resting at his side. “What do the four of you intend to do?”
Norel looked around at her sisters and me before replying. “We’re heading into the jaws of the enemy to end this battle, once and for all.”
Gahar nodded, pulling his helmet back on. “Best of luck, ma’am.”
Norel nodded, turning to face Aliana as she started to perform the spell to open a portal that would take us behind the lines of undead. I took her right hand, feeling that same steely resolve starting to flood my body as I felt the four of us being tugged through the portal, twisting and turning as we were dropped out behind the hill the undead were trying to hold.
Odd how Aliana’s portals were a lot more comfortable than mine, I mused, gripping my blade with both hands as I took the lead, heading up the hill. As we started to reach the crest, I saw a small tent set up with a dozen or so of the corpses standing guard. They started charging the moment they saw us.
I raised my blade, quickly powering a strike that killed two of the dozen with a single slash. A third one came forward hefting a massive, double-winged ax and swinging it for my head. I parried the strike, sidestepping as the monster charged right past me as I slashed my blade in a riposte, neatly beheading the creature.
By the time I was finished with it, the rest had been downed by the three sisters, who were looking at the entrance to the tent. I followed their gaze.
Cyron was standing there, presumably drawn out by the sound of fighting.
He looked exhausted. There wasn’t much change in his attire from when I’d last seen him, dressed as he was in long, flowing robes of black and purple. The fact that those colors were usually saved exclusively for the Emperor was not lost on me. Even so, he looked the part of a man who had put a lot of work into controlling a massive horde of the undead, as well as been forced into controlling them without any outside help over the last few hours of the battle.
I gripped my blade, standing my ground. All the old doubts about my abilities were starting to resurface as I watched Cyron and Abarat, who stepped out behind him, a little to his left. I could feel my mouth drying and a tightening in my stomach which made me wonder if I really was ready. I turned to see that Aliana, Norel, and Braire were all flanking me, positioning themselves where if there was an attack, at least I wouldn’t be the only target.
Cyron smirked, shaking his head. I could see him glancing down at the sword in my hands. Apparently, he still held a bit of a grudge over my having stolen it back in the first time we had fought. I felt a bit of pride over the fact that a simple former slave could best someone as powerful Cyron. It was a silly thing, I knew, but the twinge was still there.
“Well, I suppose I have the three of you to thank for the death of my familiars,” Cyron said, forcing a smile as he took a step forward. I was trying not to show any sign that I was feeling intimidated, so I took a step forward as well.
“Technically, you have Vis to blame,” I replied. I could see the three sisters circling around me, moving toward Abarat as I spoke to Cyron. “He was ready to fight me from the moment I entered the ruins. Once he realized he was going to lose, he took over their life forces to try and bolster his power. I killed him, they died, and that was more or less how things went.”
“Yes,” Cyron said, noting that Aliana, Norel, and Braire were circling around, preparing for a fight. I could see he was already forming a spell as the runes all the way up his arms were starting to glow a deep, blood red. “Vis always was a self-preserving idiot who put his need to survive at all costs above the greater good. Either way, you are starting to bore me.”
I raised my blade just in time to block a heavy strike flying from his fingers, glittering in bright reds and oranges as it flew into the forest behind me. I took a step forward, swinging my blade toward the man. He raised his hand to block the swing, and I felt my sword bouncing off the shield wrapped around his hand. I stumbled forward, quickly regaining my balance and sidestepping as I felt a powerful blast directed at my head. I lost my balance in the attempt and I felt the heat singeing the back of my head as I hit my shoulder, rolling and coming back up to hold my sword in front of myself like a shield as a third strike came.
I could see the three sisters charging at Abarat, their quick flurries of strikes making the weakened and still-shackled elf stumble back toward the tent as he defended himself. I tried to raise some kind of attack but Cyron, as tired and weakened as he was, still posed a challenge that I didn’t know whether I could stand against.
It was for the best, really. I had felt a hint of arrogance with how I’d managed to handle Vis. I needed a lesson that threw me back on the real strength of my style of combat.
Evasion and attrition. I sidestepped to the right, trying to find my balance and my opening as I focused on defending myself, watching and waiting for my opening as I circled around Cyron. I could see his confidence starting to rise. There had been a hint of doubt in his mind over his state of exhaustion as well as the way I’d handled his familiars, but as he put me on the defensive, he started to grow in the fight, pushing me back inch by inch as I struggled to keep up. The signs of the man who had been one of the most powerful human mages in history were there, and while he was a bit slower than he had been when it had taken the four of us and more than a little trickery and luck to beat him, he was still a formidable fighter.
“Interesting,” Cyron said, taking a moment to rest from his relentless attacks to regain his strength. “You have survived for a good while longer than I would have expected.”
I wanted to use his pause to counterattack myself, taking advantage of how the man seemed to love the sound of his own voice as an opening, or maybe get a quick verbal barb of my own in, but it was all I could do to recover, putting up wards and shields around me to try and stay alive over the next few seconds of fighting. I had nothing to say, and no means of attack. There was no escaping the fact that I was hopelessly outmatched in this fight.
For a moment, all I could see was Cyron as he stood in front of me, the runes on his arms starting to glow furiously as he prepared an attack that, for all I knew, could crush through any defenses I might be able to put up. I needed to find the energy to dodge it.
And then suddenly, I looked up. Braire, engaged as she was in keeping Abarat contained, looked away momentarily to see my situation. She could feel the fatigue filling my body, as well as the hint of desperation that was starting to show on my features. For a moment, she broke away from her fight, pulling a pebble out of her pocket and tossing it over to me.
I could see Cyron’s distraction as he turned to Braire, pointing his attack at her instead. He anticipated she’d join the fight against him, and wanted to be prepared. A hint of confusion showed when Braire ducked back around to join her sisters in their fight.
The spike in power could be felt as a portal opened and a massive snake pushed through it, coiling around in the air, looking for its target and finding Cyron.
He noticed the beast a second too late, watching as it jumped forward at an impossible speed, massive fangs digging deeply into the man’s thigh.
Cyron cried out in pain, but there was anger there too as all the power he’d gathered to attack me and then Braire was now directed at the serpent that was pinned in place due to its attack.
I didn’t need to think about it. Braire loved her beasts with a deep passion, something that had been compounded since they were her only friends and al
lies during her centuries stuck in the underworld. The fact that she was willing to put one of them in danger to save my life was touching, but at the same time, it showed a great deal of trust. She trusted me to at least respect her feelings toward the animals and try to keep them alive.
As I watched Cyron swing his attack to the serpent, I knew what I had to do, and there was no hesitation in my action. I rushed forward, forcing my burning and aching muscles to move as quickly as they could. They still felt sluggish, but the fact that I was less than two paces away from Cyron saved me.
In his current state, this was the largest opening I was going to see in Cyron’s defenses. It was interesting that I never even bothered to use it to strike a killing blow to Cyron’s neck or chest. That would be risking the snake’s life, and damned if I was going to be letting Braire down at this point. I roared, taking one last step and swinging the sword down as hard as I could on Cyron’s rune-covered arms, just as they were going through the last moves for the attack.
Cyron looked down, expecting to see a dead and charred snake that had just absorbed every last inch of his fury, but instead, watched as his own blood sprayed the creature, making it jump away, exposing its fangs as it shook itself clean.
I looked at Cyron, watching as his current position dawned on him. He was stubborn, I knew, but he had to know I had him beat in that regard if not many others. I brought my sword back up, swinging it toward his neck, but his arms came up to block it, shields appearing on them as well as wrapping around his stumps to stop the bleeding as he tried to heal and defend himself at the same time.
I could feel my muscles screaming in agony as I pushed them harder, driving all the strength I had into pushing the blade down harder and harder. It wasn’t a battle of magic this time, I knew. It was a battle of wills. If I failed, Cyron would be able to attack me again, probably kill me and then be able to pick the sisters off one by one at his leisure. Hell, he would probably be able to regrow his missing hands. If I failed now, everything might be lost. I gripped my blade tighter, screaming in pain and effort as I pushed harder, driving Cyron to his knees.
“No!” Cyron cried out as his shields suddenly disappeared. My blade sliced his throat open, digging deep—almost to his spine—before I pulled myself away, taking deep breaths as I tried to jump back to my feet, but my muscles betrayed me, sending me back to the ground again.
I finally decided to use my sword for leverage, bringing myself up while leaning on it, wondering if there was anything I could do to help in the fight against Abarat. I was surprised to see that Abarat was lying on the ground, clutching at his throat as he struggled to breathe.
“Our people,” Abarat said softly, looking up at the four of us. “They are free once more?”
Aliana nodded, dropping to her knees next to the man. I could see that the braces around his arms had disappeared, signifying that he was no longer bound to Cyron, who had already bled out, but if Cyron had been using him as a familiar and bound the elf’s life force to his own, it meant that in cutting Cyron’s throat, I had killed Abarat as well.
Abarat looked up to me, a pained smile on his face. “There’s something about you, human. With your presence along with the Elven-Trinity, I’m no match for you in my current state.” He pushed himself up, causing Aliana to stumble back in surprise. With a look of sorrow her way, he continued. “When we meet again, it won’t be so. My powers were hampered by Cyron’s, weakened… but no longer.”
I prepared to lunge, the others too.
“Enough life has been lost,” Norel said, stepping closer. “Put an end to it now. Surrender.”
His laugh echoed, a horrible scraping sound to it. “I will be ready to accept your allegiance upon my return.”
With a wave of his hand and a fierce glance my direction, light seemed to wink out around him and he was gone, taken by a portal.
19
The sisters went about burning the undead bodies, not wanting to risk leaving any of them behind. Still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Abarat was still out there, that he could strike at any moment without warning, I ambled over to where I’d left Cyron’s body.
I had nothing to say to him, nothing of any worth, anyway. I looked around, picking up his severed right hand up to see that ugly little ring that had started all this. I pulled it off roughly, tucking it into my pocket before raising my arm, casting a bolt of fire onto his corpse, not bothering to stay and watch as the flames consumed it.
“Are you all right?” Aliana asked, having pulled back from her sisters to speak with me.
I nodded. “There are a couple dozen bodies in the ruins where I left them. I didn’t think to burn them at the time.”
Aliana stepped closer to me and took my arm in hers. We started down the hill, the sun warm on our backs as we looked over the unified army below us, already taking care of the bodies that needed burning.
“Do you feel any different?” Aliana asked. “When you said you wanted revenge on Vis for the murder of your parents, I encouraged it, saying that I didn’t think there seemed to be any downsides to the pursuit, and indeed it might help. So, I ask now…did it help?”
I breathed deeply. I was tired, and at this point all I really wanted to think about was a good meal, which I hadn’t had since before the battle started. Yet, I knew my feelings about this needed to have some resolution before I could move away from everything that had happened here today.
“I’m not sure,” I said after a long pause. “I felt something when I killed Vis, but it wasn’t satisfaction over revenge well taken but something…colder. Like I was closing the door to a part of my life I’d left behind years ago. My parents died a long time ago, too long for them to be anything more than a residual memory.”
Aliana nodded, not wanting to speak or interrupt my thoughts.
“I guess all this time I was more enamored with the idea of having a family again,” I said, my voice soft as we continued down the hill. “Revenge wasn’t going to change that, so while justice has been done, nothing is going to change the fact that… Well, I have a new family now. People I care for and who care for me.” I gave her arm an appreciative squeeze.
“At the risk of changing the subject,” I continued, turning to look at her. “Why is it, do you think, that you chose to remain with me instead of celebrating this victory and mourning the dead with your sisters? With your people? You have to be glad they’ve returned, in some numbers at least. Why aren’t you with them?”
Aliana sighed softly, her head drooping. I could see the way her horns seemed to dim and her wings dropped a few inches.
“I’ve changed,” she finally said, looking up at me. “I may have been an elf once, but that was a long time ago. I’m a djinn now. I have horns and wings. Other changes were made in that spell that cannot be undone. I’m not an elf anymore.”
I tugged her arm, pulling both of us to a halt as I turned to face her, my eyes looking deeply into hers. I wasn’t great with speeches, or giving any kind of advice, but there was just something so wrong about hearing her talk like that. I leaned in to lightly kiss her lips. I could feel that there was something that she was hiding.
“You know I think you’re one of the wisest women I’ve ever met, right?” I asked, tilting my head as I watched her.
She smiled and nodded.
“So, you have to know that what you just said is complete and utter bullshit,” I stated, making sure her eyes didn’t stray from me. “Your sisters know it. The rest of the elves who were just brought back due to your actions know it. Hell, I’m just some nobody who was dragged into this nonsense with a bit of luck and crazy coincidence and I know it as well. You’re more than the sum of your appearance, Aliana.” I leaned in and pressed my forehead to hers gently, running my fingers through her hair.
I could feel the tears starting to stream from her cheeks as I pulled her closer, wrapping her up in my arms and squeezing her gently to me.
“You’re just a delightfully n
aïve idiot, you know that, Grant?” she said, pulling away and looking up into my eyes, smiling, tilting her head for a moment before standing on tiptoe and pressing her lips to mine in a long, delicious kiss.
“Yes, I’m well aware,” I replied as we resumed making our way down the hill to where the rest of the people were starting to gather.
20
I could feel my muscles burning, my body struggling to keep up with what my mind knew it could do. Everything I was doing was ingrained in my muscle memory, which helped, but there was nothing to be done for stamina, and I was starting to feel mine starting to reach depletion.
Damned if I was going to show it, though. I growled, pushing forward and feeling a surge in my muscles as I pulled Norel from her position atop me, laying her down roughly on her back. I positioned myself between her thighs, feeling a sense of determination shared between the two of us as I started to thrust myself deep inside her over and over again. My hands moved to grab her breasts which were bouncing each time I filled her. Norel grabbed one of my hands by the wrist, pulling it to her lips and sucking my fore and middle fingers into her mouth. The sensation of her warm mouth sucking them, simulating the way that she, Braire, and Aliana had taken turns treating my cock, only served to bring my mind back to the delicious image of the three of them kneeling in front of me.
As images went, I couldn’t think of a single one that was more erotic, more arousing. I continued pounding into her, filling her again and again. I looked over at Aliana and Braire, who were lying on the side of the massive bed, watching us and toying with each other’s sore pussies as they did. There was arousal in them as well, and I felt tempted to drag them into it again. But they had been roughly handled over the past couple of hours and had earned a bit of rest.
