Unearthed

by Cecy Robson

  “No,” Tobias replies. “They were strong enough to not arouse suspicion, but weak enough for the hounds to sense and track them.”

  Which is why the dragons never stood a chance. My spine stiffens. Everything finally makes sense. Frankie gave me one of the fallen dragon’s talismans. It’s why I can’t stay hidden and how Cathasach found me at Bill’s.

  “Do the talismans Sebastian gave the dragons interfere with magic?” I ask.

  Tobias thinks about it. “No. But the collar young Stevie wears blocks fresh magic.”

  I pace, unable to keep still. My borrowed talisman might have led the Cù-Sìth to us, but it was Stevie’s collar that brought down Jane’s wards. Her magic at Bill’s was new and fresh to the dwelling. Damn it. We were safer in Ryker’s loft.

  I push away my thick hair and swear. Sebastian made the hunt easier for Cathasach. Another thought occurs to me. Stevie’s flame . . . that’s why it took so long to manifest. The collar was suppressing the fresh magic within the young dragon.

  My boy, Stevie, must be housing an inferno.

  “Why did Sebastian want to dull Stevie’s magic?”

  “The boy has his mother’s power.” Tobias shrugs. “It’s rumored he’ll be the strongest dragon in history. Oh, and something about him harnessing the power to freeze, as well as burn.”

  Stevie is a fire and ice dragon? If Cathasach found out, he’d eat Stevie whole . . . or use him as a weapon against the Fae.

  I hurtle myself at the iron gates. I’m not strong, but neither is the compact soil the gate is fixed to. I fall to my knees, digging with my hands, grunting and cursing as I scoop dirt away.

  Enough is enough. I’m out of here.

  Something pops in the air and the gate jars. Tobias stands on the other side, holding the chain and padlock in his hands. He drops both on the ground and opens the gate, allowing me through.

  He sniffs, tears glistening his dark eyes. “I’m going to die for everything I told you,” he says as a way of an explanation. “The master will know. He always knows.”

  Something hard strikes above us. A large boulder breaks through the ceiling and falls to our far left. “The Alpha lives,” Tobias says. “Now the fight for the new Beta begins.”

  I look to the narrow passageway that leads to the arena and then back at Tobias. It’s time. I only hope I won’t stand alone.

  My throat tightens. I don’t want to cry. I want to be strong for me and the poor little gremlin who helped me. I clutch his shoulders. “Thank you, Tobias,” I say quietly. “Look, chances are I may not make it―”

  “No,” he agrees. “You’ll be ripped apart and devoured by the Alpha once he finishes filling you with his undead seed.”

  “I’m going to stop you right there, kid.” I shake my head, but not so much his shudder-inducing comments. “As I was saying, I may not make it. But if I do, I swear you and your clan will have your freedom. Just stay alive, okay?”

  Tobias isn’t what one might call a motivational speaker in the making. “But Miss, the Alpha’s testes are the size cantaloupes.”

  Two things: I’m never eating fruit again and I’m getting the hell out of here.

  I reach for the padlock and chain and wind the links around my hand.

  Tobias clasps my wrist and digs in his heels when I start forward. “Wait. What are you doing?”

  I set my jaw. “It’s my turn to challenge Cathasach.”

  Chapter Thirty

  For all that I initially hurry forward, my steps slow the closer I draw to the arena. The clamor of snapping jaws and growls reverberate around the claustrophobic space, a barefaced reminder of what lies ahead. Regardless, I gather my courage and push forward, determined to smack evil across the face.

  The path up to the arena is similar to a large hole, narrowing as I near its end. There’s no light source to guide my way and even with my heightened vision, it’s difficult to see. I trip over protruding rocks more than once, banging my already bruised legs and rattling my chain.

  The noise I make is thankfully no match for the increasing roars and whines of the battling Cù-Sìth. Those fighting want to win, and those watching are hungry for a chance to strike.

  I crouch low, falling to a crawl when the hole narrows and inclines more drastically. I poke my head out at the top. “Ryker,” I whisper. “I’m ready. I hope you are, too.”

  He doesn’t answer and I can’t be sure he heard me. Maybe it’s better. I’m truly not ready. Life is supposed to be a bitch. I’m not. I just want to live and for my kind to survive.

  I finish scurrying out of the stupid hole and army crawl along the ground. The entire Cù-Sìth pack is assembled, circling the fighting hounds restlessly just a few yards away. They’re anxious for their brethren to die and claim their souls. The larger hounds push the smaller pups aside, eager to fill their bellies.

  My fingers pass along the chain as I try to gauge the number of Cù-Sìth present. Although they’re moving fast and it makes it hard to count, I guestimate there are at least a hundred, not the seventy or so Ryker believed. Stars above, they multiplied quickly. The smaller, younger hounds make up at least a third of the pack.

  They all need to go. It’s only a matter of time before they wipe out the Fae.

  I tighten my grip around the chain, wrestling with how best to strike as I scan the environment. What I originally interpreted as an arena is more like two acres of elevated space. The floor is mostly soil mixed with clay and the walls are stone and etched with markings. I look closer, realizing I’m in a large burial chamber, possibly occult based on the symbols engraved in the walls.

  Wonderful. So much for hallow grounds.

  Near the far corner where the exit lies, Cathasach feasts in his beast form. His mutilated body is regenerating slowly following his showdown. He isn’t whole yet, and, Alpha or not, he’s seriously wounded. This is my chance. There won’t be another.

  I rise and march forward, ready to kick ass. “Cathasach,” I call.

  No one so much as blinks my way. The pack is so enthralled by the fighting hounds and the promise of more food they don’t notice Life coming right at them.

  “Cathasach!” I call louder.

  Again. Nada.

  Seriously?

  I pause, wondering if I can just sneak the hell out of here. I then realize, that’s part of the problem.

  Ryker told me in order to challenge Cathasach and call him to me, I have to want him here. But I don’t actually want him here. I don’t want to fight him. I don’t want to hurt or bleed. I don’t want to die. What I want is to get out of this damn crypt and lock myself in a room with access to comfort food and Netflix.

  Except food and Netflix wasn’t what I yearned for all those years I cried for my family. They weren’t what I needed when I watched my sweet Dahlia mauled. It didn’t matter that Dahlia was kind or generous, or the friend I depended on when I found myself alone. The Cù-Sìth took what they wanted from her and every Fae with a family, with friends. No, they deserve better. They deserve vengeance.

  “Then fight,” Ryker whispers tightly.

  I whip around, expecting him directly behind me. But only beetles scamper along the soil where he should stand. That doesn’t stop the smile curving my lips. I can’t see or sense, but he’s here. Ryker is here.

  Hope stirs my courage and my magic.

  “Gortaítear,” I chant. Hurt.

  “Fulaing.” Suffer.

  “Sruthán!” Burn!

  My power shoots through my arm hard enough to rattle me. I hurtle the padlock into the air in a swirl of angry pink that grows in size and intensity. It lands in the middle of a cluster of hounds with a thump.

  A hundred set of drooling fangs and snarling jowls jerk my way and . . . nothing happens. My stomach drops down to my toes. I stumble backward.

  “Oh, shit. Shit. Shit!”

  The Cù-Sìth jet toward me and I turn to run.

  That’s when the padlock detonates like an atomic bomb.


  A mushroom pink cloud ripples through the air, its shear wrath propelling me back into the hole I crawled from and partially burying me. It’s the only thing that saves me. Cathasach’s lair doesn’t burn, it nuclearizes.

  Raucous shrieks and tormented howls clamor along the perimeter. The walls split and the ceiling collapses at multiple points. The earth quakes, showering me with chunks of dirt. I snake through the hole, digging my hands into the soil to pull myself forward and hanging tight to my chain.

  I poke my head out, choking on the dirt coated air. The hounds that hadn’t busted open like flaming piñatas, yelp and dash around frantically as my magic eats through their flesh. Souls puncture their limbs through any opening in the hounds they can find, tearing open bellies and exploding through ruptured faces and skulls, rushing to flee.

  The quaking begins to subside, but not before a monumental portion of ceiling tumbles down and over an exit. Through the bedlam, clouds of dust, and the crushing noise, Cathasach appears in his human form. He kicks the wounded beasts from his path, his horrid red eyes flaring and fixed on me.

  I don’t swear often. I do now. “Bloody fuck.”

  “Bring her to me,” Cathasach commands. “Bring her to me now!”

  He isn’t speaking to his hounds. A giant red scaled dragon bounds my way, scraping his long talons through the debris riddled ground and stomping over the injured. Sebastian.

  My magic won’t work against him. It doesn’t matter. My body will rot in this crypt before I let him take me. I twirl, spinning my chain and pirouetting across the ground, slowly at first, then faster. I use every bit of momentum, bringing my weapon down on Sebastian’s snout with a primal scream.

  My kick-ass and graceful attack must have looked really cool from afar. Except my war cry morphs into a whimper when the impact jolts through me and almost breaks my arms.

  Sebastian roars, his gold fire singeing the wall above my head. I prance out of the way, over the debris, around the injured hounds, and right into Cathasach’s path.

  In a crash of furious lightning, Ryker arrives, his scythe high in the air. He slices at Cathasach and severs his newly generated arm and part of his chest. Blood spills and so do souls.

  “Olivia, run!”

  Ryker’s request gives me pause. “I thought I was supposed to fight him?”

  I also thought I killed more hounds than I did. An army of Cù-Sìth barrels over the arena of broken ceiling and fragmented stone, charging us. Cathasach retreats in a funnel of green smoke, solidifying just out of reach. He smiles, and in a show of force, snatches two fleeing souls by the throat and feasts.

  “Ah, Ryker,” I begin.

  Ryker knows I’m begging him to get us out of here. “No,” he rumbles through clenched teeth. “Tonight, he dies by my hands.”

  Like a seasoned warrior, Ryker swings his scythe from side to side, majestically and precisely until his movements transform into a blur.

  Cathasach answers the challenge with a snarl, his growing number of hounds gathering around him. He’s not alone. He’s not afraid.

  And neither is Ryker.

  The bitter scent of primeval magic overwhelms what remains of the arena. Ryker races forward, every stride bulging his muscles against his flexible armor and every movement vowing to mutilate. He’s keen on murder. This is the moment he trained for. He’ll kill anything in his path.

  So will the Ancients who materialize.

  Fionn mac Cumhaill, the giant, busts his way in, turning the large chunk of ceiling blocking the exit to rubble with his meaty fists. He’s followed by Gwragedd Annwn, the water fairy, Redcap, the goblin, Oberon, the high king, and one very pissed-off Hydra swooping through the air on the back of a gargoyle.

  Ryker attacks, cleaving through hounds like a butcher. Jane’s venomous serpents spit their poison in a deadly staccato akin to gunfire. The Ancients are all magic. They release the gamut of their power onto the Cù-Sìth, wielding the punishment owed to our people. The power of good meets evil head on in, releasing in a kaleidoscope of sparks.

  Command and might overwhelm me and magic slaps at my skin. The air heats, and souls spout like a fountain as hounds mourn their loss and grieve in pain.

  Meanwhile I’m standing with my mouth open, holding a rusty old chain and covered in dirt.

  Screw this.

  My weapon lacks the flare and exactitude of my whip. That doesn’t stop me from slamming it onto the ruins at my feet. “Dhíoghail!” Avenge.

  Glowing rays of fuchsia light zigzag across the earth, singeing the advancing hounds and burning their paws. I swing my chain, bright with light, and strike those who break though to attack.

  My blows are hard. I feel each one down to my bones and it hurts, really hurts. Yet I keep going. It’s not until I bring my chain down and through a death hound’s spine that pain explodes into my shoulders and I drop my only weapon.

  My hands throb and openly bleed. I can barely bend my swelling fingers. I bend to retrieve my chain. It slips from my grasp. I grunt, frustrated, and try again. Once more, I can’t secure my grip. I watch it fall onto the dirt. I stagger, unsure how I’ll continue and on the verge of collapsing.

  Wretched screaming has me reeling. A horrid gash has cracked open Gwragedd Annwn’s skull. Blood pours down her face, plastering her long silver hair against her skin and partially blinding her. She presses her palms against the large open wound across her stomach. The first Ancient is down. I can see part of her bowel bulging through her fingers.

  I run to where a pack of hounds have her cornered. Redcap, the goblin, barrels toward her from the opposite direction only to be stormed by a separate pack.

  Gwragedd Annwn wails as the pack pounces like wolves on a lamb. She wails, her magic firing. She fights until her last breath, crushing the head of a hound with her bare hands before her soul is hacked from her body.

  “No!”

  I bound through the wreckage and leap onto of the hound digging his fangs into her spirit. Bill and Jane sweep in, forcing the others back. Jane’s serpents elongate, wrapping around the hounds and tossing them away. Bill tackles a large male attempting to steal Gwragedd Annwn’s soul from the hound I’m fighting.

  My bloody hands grip the hound’s jowls when he tries to bite me. His snout enkindles and his crumbling jaw snaps beneath my power. I manage to free Gwragedd Annwn’s spirit. She falls away. Without thinking I dive on top of her, gripping her waist and dragging her back to what remains of her body. She’s light. I feel her like a warm breeze that passes through just enough to tell the birds it’s spring and lulls the rabbits awake.

  Live, I plead. Please don’t die, too.

  I swallow the sour taste in my mouth as I stare at the pieces of Gwragedd Annwn that lie before me. It’s too late. I’m too late.

  Gwragedd Annwn slips from my hold, gaping from me to the body she once so regally held. Her expression splinters and she lifts her hands, so translucent her sad eyes see through them and to what remains of her corpse.

  Around me, souls propel from the dying hounds. I stagger away, knowing who’ll come. “Gwragedd Annwn, you have to go,” I stammer. “You have to go now!”

  Her heartbroken expression meets mine briefly before she takes to the air. Shafts of green, white, and black smoke surround me, Jane, and Bill, snagging our attention as several hounds stream after Gwragedd Annwn.

  My stomach clenches into knots. If another hound consumes her soul, he will raid and steal Gwragedd Annwn’s power. I know as much, and so does Cathasach.

  He abandons his fight with Ryker, shooting after the water fairy’s spirit. Ryker raises his scythe over his head, and with another snap of azure light, he vanishes. Tears sting my eyes. He’s going after Gwragedd Annwn to carry her into the Afterlife before the Cù-Sìth can claim her. Except he’s only one being, and no one else can help him.

  I stumble forward, seeking something I can use as a weapon when a giant wing slams into my side. I fly into the crumbling wall, bouncing off my
back and crashing onto the wreckage below. Someone screams my name. Oberon hollers. Bill and Fionn roar. Everything hurts and nothing makes sense. All that remains is my will and that will wants to survive.

  I force myself onto my knees. I barely lift my hands when something cuffs me in the head. I fall back with my leg partially bent and twist my ankle. A reptilian foot covered in red scales comes down on my chest, robbing me of my breath and pinning me down.

  My body writhes in misery and from lack of breath. It does it independently, trying to keep me going when my mind simply can’t anymore. Sebastian has me and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

  Torment consumes every inch of me, yet it doesn’t compare to the agony I feel when talons puncture my throat. My ribs crack and my sternum begins to split apart. I’m certain death will claim me until the weight abruptly lifts in a flash of blue fire.

  Sebastian roars, suffering. I cough out blood with my first breath and the next few that follow, unable to draw sufficient oxygen. The pain raking through me leaves me motionless and barely conscious. At first, I don’t notice a severed dragon’s foot lying beside me. It’s only when my head lolls to the side and I blink away the fog claiming my vision that I catch sight of the silver scaled dragon who saved me.

  The silver dragon lifts Sebastian by the throat with his fangs and hurtles Sebastian to the ground, using his talons to pierce through Sebastian’s scales. Frankie has arrived. He knows what Sebastian did and now he’ll make Sebastian pay.

  My body struggles to heal me. It’s just not fast enough. I roll to my side, trying to clear my throat of the thick pooling blood. I cough and sputter and attempt to edge away from the dragons. The stabbing ache tightening my chest and throat make it hard to focus. I’m disoriented and unsure where I’m headed. The only thing I know is that I can’t lie here.

  I inch away, unable to move fast. Chaos swells, everyone fighting is vicious and angry, their fury pelting me as hard as the pieces of ceiling that continue to fall. I barely notice the Cù-Sìth who charges and only manage to cover my head.