Queen to Ashes (Black Dawn Series Book 2)

by Mallory McCartney

  The water pulled her back, the beast creating its own suction as her body lurched. Flinching, Emory couldn’t hold her breath anymore, and water rushed through her parted lips, filling her lungs. Weakly, she kicked just as the arrow punctured the water, missing her by a hairsbreadth. Up close, the feathers were tinged with the faintest green hue. The roar behind her was colossal as she dug deep, swimming past the arrow. Black dots speckled her vision, and she desperately looked around her for any sign of Brokk. Find him. Find him.

  Ten more arrows followed the first as her world was illuminated in chaos. Oranges and deep red hues danced above her, and screaming, she did a broad stroke, breaking the surface and spewing water. The waves rolled, threatening to push her under once more. Bile seared her throat as she choked, taking in the scene before her. Everything was consumed in flame. It rippled on the inky water so fast and unnatural, she barely saw the enormous ship breaking through it. Its sails were illuminating the crew against the night sky as the ship raced toward her.

  “BROKK!” Her voice broke, as she swam, screaming, “BROKK!” A thousand possibilities cut through her pain, cut through her heart as she dug deep. The water started to churn, and she screamed again, “BROKK!”

  The world disappeared as a wave pushed her under. Eyes wide, she tried to claw her way back, but the water spun and spun and spun, and slowly, she felt gravity shift. Stilling, she raked her gaze around, trying to spot the monstrous beast, but it had vanished. The water lurched up violently, still spinning around her, faster, faster, faster. Thunderous heartbeats reverberated through her as her pulse picked up, racing, her mind scrambling to find her bearings.

  Breaking through the surface, still spinning in an orb of seawater and despite all odds, Emory rose up, cutting through smoke and flame straight toward the towering ship. Trying to make out the silhouettes below, the orb of water that contained her stilled, dropping her onto the ship’s deck.

  Emory screamed as the deck rushed up to meet her but not before a gust of warm wind caught her body, drying her, and slowing her fall until gingerly her knees touched wood, and she collapsed on all fours. Emptying the contents of her stomach, she heaved, tears brimming her eyes.

  Tap. Tap. Tap. Squinting, the boot came into focus. Polished leather. Knee-high, lace-up. Recognition hit her like a wall as she took in the lush red jacket, the black leather pants, the billowing shirt. The short, emerald hair stuck up at every angle, the spatter of freckles making his emerald eyes look luminous, his pale skin bathed in firelight.

  A sly smile crept onto his lips; unsheathing his sword, he tapped it under her chin. “You do know you almost threw up on my boots.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Arching an eyebrow, he repeated, “My boots. They are new, and you almost made quite the impression on them.”

  The steel pressed harder against her throat, as Emory slowly stood. “You do know you almost drowned me?”

  He paused, tilting his head. “And how could you possibly think that?”

  She held his gaze, unflinchingly. “Where are my friends?”

  He dropped his sword to pace, his crew tightening around him with every second. Emory scowled deeper.

  “You know, when most people meet me, they are near death already or desperately hoping I’ll spare their lives.”

  The water churned around the ship, as she caught a glint of silver scales, sending shivers running down her spine.

  “I’m not here to flatter you. Now, where are my friends?”

  Another tilt of his head. “My, you are something, aren’t you?”

  “You listen and listen closely, Marquis Maher. It will not take our ship sinking, or almost dying, or being captured by you, to stop me from getting the truth. I am not going to ask you again.”

  His eyes flashed. “So, it’s true then. The rumors?” Her finger trembled against his chest as they stared face-to-face, memories flickering alive. Snapping his fingers, his crew lowered their weapons, and he exhaled. “Come with me.”

  Emory stared, not sure if she had heard him correctly. His crew jumped to action, a layer of yells and commands being thrown about. Turning, Marquis stared at the burning water, whistling sharply. Freezing, Emory saw that massive head rise, hungry eyes turning to her. He barked down at the creature, “They are mine.”

  It snarled but nothing more, and it sank back into the inky depths. Not wasting a second, she raced to him, her mind connecting the dots. “It’s no coincidence that you are here, is it?”

  Shrugging, he quipped, “I could say the same to you.”

  “The dragon? Yours too?”

  Whipping around, he snarled, “You mean the cianes? Yes, we are under agreement to protect the Black Sea and the Shattered Isles. Anyone who sails this far either dies at their hand or mine.”

  Hurriedly, he went below decks, and she followed, her ability churning. The sea roared once more, the sounds of wreckage falling behind them as the sails caught the wind. Her heart pumped double-time as they rounded the corner to a dimly lit room. A light hung limply from the ceiling, swinging from side-to-side as her breath was knocked from her chest.

  Brokk’s head hung lowly. The binds around his ankles and hands were tied with silver rope, and water dripped steadily onto the floor. His chest rose and fell softly, the only signs of life. Behind him, Kiana and Riona were in the same state.

  Tensing, she was slammed back but not before she felt his palm pushing her, and she stumbled. Emory saw the sheen wall catching the light. Passing through it, the effect was immediate. Wheezing, her pulse slowed, her ability retreating into nothingness. Her necklace turned cold, the usual thrumming disintegrating like dust. She wobbled, turning to the king wordlessly.

  Marquis sketched a bow, his voice dangerous and low. “You think that I would allow you and your company to pass through my borders without taking my own precautions. Tsk, Tsk, Princess. You should learn quicker than this.”

  The room spun, and she felt her knees hit the boards. Colors blurred into a mass, as she felt binds clasping around her wrists and ankles. She hissed when they cut into her skin, her breath a whisper on her lips before her body dropped, and she entered a peaceful nothingness.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Azarius

  The whetstone sang over the blade in even strokes as Azarius pushed it harder. The small cabin was quiet, as Azarius took in the traces of early morning bleeding into the sky. Sweat dripped off his brow, and flipping sides, Azarius went through the meditative motions. He had been sitting here for hours, trying to quiet his mind and heart.

  Lana was immortal. And him? Lost in between worlds. The war in his heart raged, breaking him. The promise of forever, that’s what Lana was to him now. She had lived through a lot. What was another war to her when the price of surviving it would be their freedom? The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. Azarius finally stood, stretching, joints popping loudly.

  Lana had left a few days ago, on her way to the Ruined City where, in her words, she could, “Make Adair sweat a little bit,” while searching for the man who could turn the tables.

  There was no word from Memphis and Nyx on their travels through the Forgotten Bogs. No word from Lana. So, he was left there waiting, going crazy as he and Alby kept calm throughout Pentharrow while sending out pleas to the unseen forces that his friends would return safely to him. That Lana would.

  A cold wind stirred around him, his ability like a loose cannon under all the pressure. Running a hand through his unkempt hair, he headed for the door, buckling his blade onto his back. The morning air met him with a crisp vitality that sank into his bones. The roads were quiet as people still slept, but his gaze went to the small sentry post about a mile away, his brother’s flaming hair blazing in the new light.

  Lana had put the blanket of magic over the town again but, this time, allowing them to see the land around them instead of being sealed in the darkness. Azarius’s boots crunched as he made his way over to the post, knowing Alby could hear him
and that he wouldn’t turn around.

  So much had changed all at once for them both, yet the days went on while their friends risked their lives, and they just sat there. Day by day by day. Calming the storm brewing in him, Azarius squared his shoulders. In time, all wounds would heal, especially between him and Alby.

  He had never understood why his twin had left all those years ago, left his family, to go a place where he thought the Faes were just building an army. He had been wrong. When he had seen the bonds between them, he had realized that while the Academy had fallen with the Faes and was now burnt down to rubble, that the family of the Black Dawn Rebellion had not and would never fall. Despite the betrayal, despite the war, despite the change.

  His jealousy was a raw and encompassing thing as the ugly thought clung to his heart; why hadn’t he followed Alby? Instead, he had decided to harbor his anger and judgements that his brother had abandoned him. The question now was how to bring his brother back to him. To mend their own bonds was an entirely different problem.

  Azarius awkwardly coughed. “Any sign?”

  Alby flicked his tired eyes toward him for only a second, whispering, “Nothing. Not a stir.”

  He couldn’t stop the wind that engulfed them as he said, “They will come back. You have to believe that.”

  Alby narrowed his eyes. “And while they risk their necks, I’m stuck here with you. Not out there being useful.” The words found their mark as Alby knew they would, cutting deep.

  “You’re doing your part, Alby. Now go get some rest. I will take it from here.”

  Alby’s face pinched, and he didn’t say another word as he slipped away and started walking back haughtily. Hauling himself up with easy grace, Azarius sat, his heart sinking.

  In time. They would be okay in time.

  The morning brought harsh golds and pinks swirling on the horizon as the sun rose. From Pentharrow, the plains of the land were flat, bathing their world in the brilliance of colors. It took his breath away. To the east lay Lana, and he found his stare never left that escarpment of horizon, willing her back home. Back to him.

  Rolling his shoulders, Azarius would stay for a few hours and then find another sentry. His afternoons were filled with Alby and him training the townspeople, man or woman, in the ability of combat. He loved it, seeing with each passing day what gains were made. What hope grew among them all. What hope grew in him. He breathed deeply, clinging to that scent of damp grass and deep earth as he settled in for another quiet morning.

  The hours blended, the sun now resting at its peak in the sky. Azarius had to peel off the lined jacket from earlier that morning. Blinking hard at the now constant bustle of the town behind him, the clang of swords and wafts of delicious smells drifted toward him. Azarius knew he should go and start his afternoon, but this was the hardest part of his day, peeling away and accepting that tomorrow might prove different, or that he might not be the one to spot Lana first. His stomach growled viciously, and he sighed, resigning himself.

  Standing, he gripped the wood and lowered himself to the ground and paused. On the wind, a bitter smell filled his senses, making his skin crawl.

  Azarius’s head snapped to attention, glaring out to the landscape. Nothing stirred, not yet. The hairs on his arms stood up, his ears ringing. Something was wrong. Looking behind him, seeing if he could spot Alby in the distance, his brother was nowhere to be seen. Looking again to the east, he almost fell over at the scene materializing before him. A dark speck of a figure pushed forward, soaring across the grass faster than any human could run. Behind it, fires raged, and four more figures appeared from them. He didn’t hesitate when he brought his fingers up to his lips and loosened a whistle so sharp it made his skull ache.

  “Prepare the wall!”

  The people of Pentharrow stopped and, with drawn faces, looked at him if they heard wrong. But as they took in the flames and the ash, chaos broke out. Swords unsheathed in a unison of metal singing.

  He cried out again, “Now! MOVE!”

  The citizens of Pentharrow were a blur as they ran up to him. He squinted as the smoke curled and funneled up to the sky, blocking out the sun. He was under strict orders from Lana that under no circumstance was anyone to go outside of her protective barrier; it would weaken the magic significantly and risk exposing them all.

  Alby pushed past the crowd with rudeness to slide up beside him, panting. “What is it?”

  “It’s Lana,” Azarius breathed.

  A sickening crack sounded as the earth itself seemed to buckle and cave in the field. Right where she was running. The four figures followed effortlessly, the flames spewing from them, demolishing all that was in sight, focusing on their prey in front of them. He had no idea who they were, but his resolution cracked. “With me. Now.” Azarius barked to Alby. Rage and adrenaline clouded his senses as he yelled to the citizens of Pentharrow, “Do not break your formation!”

  Grabbing Alby’s arm, the brothers ran through the magical wall, feeling as if they had been squeezed through a small tube to be met with the raging fight in front of them. Allowing himself one second to look behind him, he saw nothing. Smiling roguishly, he grabbed his sword, looking to his twin. “Ready?”

  Alby was pale but determined as he mimicked his movements, nodding. “Ready.”

  Azarius felt the familiar pull and crack of the electricity in his veins as his ability roared to life from its slumber. He didn’t hesitate as he sprinted forward, pumping his arms and racing toward his world, knowing that Alby was close on his heels, visible or not. That familiar bitter tang bit into his skin.

  The flames behind Lana turned a sickish green hue, and a crack echoed across space and time. Snarling figures were born from the ash and embers, glowing red eyes and hungry fangs as hundreds charged toward Lana and them.

  Smoke billowed from their muscles as their gray flesh materialized before Azarius. With pointed ears and strange elongated limbs, the monsters came into focus. Howls and cries overlapped, and he heard Alby curse behind him, faltering at the sight.

  Skidding to a stop, Azarius stabbed his sword into the dirt and grass in front of him. His muscles tensed as he exhaled, rubbing his palms together. Azarius’s world went silent except for the pounding of his blood through his veins and his ragged breath. He dipped low into that well of power, and in one exhale, it tore through him. The wind screamed around the brothers, flattening the grass flush to the earth as the force echoed out from him in catastrophic ripples. Lana had the sense to fall to the ground as the wind charged the darkness. When they collided, it was nails screeching against glass, the monsters’ screams and hissing of fire swelling into one.

  Azarius’s brows furrowed as he shouted to Alby, “Get her out of here now. I will keep them at bay.” His brother took off running, avoiding the dips and cracks in the earth. Clapping his hands together, another sonic wave boomed from his body, pushing Alby faster and the demons snarling and fighting against his winds. He was only warming up.

  The darkness grew as the four figures emerged from behind their army, rushing at Lana and him. Azarius took in their grotesque figures, their faces in grimaces as, in unison, they raised their pale hands, pointing at him. Then, all chaos broke out. His wind hardly pushed back as the creatures raced toward the two people Azarius loved most in the world. Their claws were outstretched, their snapping teeth razor sharp as they ran like wildfire. He would never reach Alby and Lana in time.

  Bellowing his pain and anger, he plummeted into a space he had rarely been. One of raw power, of not knowing where he started and the wind ended. Gritting his teeth, space and time cracked as six funnel clouds tore down from the sky, screaming as they touched down and barreled toward the demons, creating a shield for his brother. Alby reached Lana and, with an outstretched palm, grabbed the windwalker’s hand, and they both disappeared into thin air. Their disappearance was answered with roars and screeches of anger as the army of ash and smoke barreled into one mass, the creatures changing, shapeshift
ing before his eyes.

  The figures’ giggles sounded from far away as Azarius ripped his sword from the earth, screaming at Lana and Alby to run. A wall consisting of embers and pieces of the earth that reached almost to the clouds roared toward his tornadoes, surpassing them in strength and size. Azarius cringed as his storms dissolved in the crackling and hungry mass. His skull rattled with the force, and for a second, he was frozen, watching as the unnatural storm front towered over him, readily eager to swallow him whole within it.

  “Azarius!” Lana and Alby appeared in front of him with grappling hands, forcing him to run. Fear tore at his limbs as he obliged, the three of them running for the hidden barrier.

  Lana seethed. “It’s the Oilean.”

  Shit. Pushing harder, Azarius urged his legs to move faster. His military mind flickered from scenario to scenario as he asked, “Will the barrier hold them?”

  Lana nodded. “For a time.”

  They couldn’t look back, not when Azarius knew their world was being ravaged by dark forces they couldn’t even begin to understand. Or defeat.

  Sweat poured off his limbs, and pain laced through his chest. They were maybe five yards away from Pentharrow. Screams encased his mind. Four yards. Lana bellowed at him and Alby to keep going as he stumbled and fell. Three yards. Heat licked up his back, burning his clothes. Two yards. Smoke stung his eyes, making them water. One yard. Lana grabbed his hand fiercely as they avoided the spilt earth, jumping over crevices. Alby cursed fluently under his breath. The three of them pushed off, soaring through the air as he felt the compression of the barrier, and they slammed into the wall of people in Pentharrow.

  Bones cracked as he hit the ground hard, spots filling his vision. The collision of the tidal wave made the magic groan and bend as he looked up, panting, to see the destruction that had been left in their wake. The army dissipated once more, breaking into hundreds of smoking tendrils, flaring out and surrounding the dome that was under Lana’s protection. Azarius shot up and stalked toward that thin wall, gaping at the four figures that walked up to their shield, not able to see him staring back. The Oilean.