Shadowborn Page 19

  Not that she had a choice. Saul gave her one last doubtful look before ending his stream of ice. The specter’s spiked stone wall shattered it to pieces with the sudden lapse in reinforcement, then continued scraping forward, carving deep grooves into the carpet and walls. Bree braced her legs, lifted her gauntlet, and closed her eyes. What approached appeared stone, but it wasn’t truly stone. In mere minutes it would begin fading into mist. It was merely a magical creation of a prism, no different from her flame, and its power would reflect its master. The specters were skilled wielders of demonic power, but Bree did not wield it as they did. She carried that power in her blood. It pulsed within her veins.

  A scream escaped her throat as she braced her arms and legs. A burning sphere swelled before her gauntlet, then erupted like a volcano. A thick beam of fire flowed into the wall, the pressure of its release jarring Bree’s shoulder back so hard she feared it broken. The roar of it deafened her ears. The heat of it warmed the metal of her gauntlet. She felt its contact burning her flesh, but flesh would heal. Her foe would not.

  The jagged stone wall lost all momentum. It hardened and cracked, its earthy brown turning black. Bree took a step forward, still screaming, her every muscle locked tight. Unconsciousness flitted at the edges of her mind. The fire pushed deeper, sinking into the wall, crumbling away its form, until it broke through with a thunderous clamor. Bree immediately clenched her fist, ceased the fire, and collapsed to her knees. She could only watch through blurred vision as Saul dove through the smoldering crack in the stone wall, his gauntlet a shimmering beacon of blue ice.

  Someone’s hand touched her arm. Not Saul’s. She tried to cry out but lacked the strength. Another hand, lifting her up by the armpit. Her view turned. Her heart warmed.

  “Hey, Kael,” she said, her words slurred as if she were intoxicated. “You missed the fun.”

  Her brother shifted her arm over his shoulder, taking on more of her weight. Clara stood next to him, concern painted across her bloody face.

  “I saw the end of it,” he said. “Goddamn, you’re terrifying.”

  Bree laughed.

  “Fear me,” she said. “The girl who can barely stand.”

  Saul stepped through the cooling opening in the wall. Blood trickled down his face from a gash above his brow, but he otherwise appeared unharmed.

  “Kael, Clara,” he said, nodding to them both. “You two look like shit.”

  “I think what you meant to say was, ‘Hey, Kael, glad you survived this awful nightmarish day,’” Kael said. “But don’t worry. Bree’s alive, so I’ll forgive you.”

  Clara knelt before Bree, her hands carefully touching Bree’s gauntlet. Both winced.

  “That’s what I thought,” Clara said. She loosened the buckles on her gauntlet one after another. Bree stifled a cry when she pulled it free, the tiny needle in her skin hurting more coming out than it had going in. She had to admit she felt immensely better with it removed. Clara set the gauntlet aside and took her hand to examine it. Deep burn marks covered her skin from her fingertips to her wrist.

  “You’re supposed to heal wounds from your own element unnaturally fast,” she said. “But even then, I think you’ll have these for a few days. You have to be careful, Bree. You wield your fire with far more power than these wings and gauntlets were originally devised to control. Give yourself a chance to rest. I think we’ve cleared out the last of the specters in this area.”

  “Make that the whole mansion,” a deep voice called from down the hall. Bree followed it to see Chernor calmly approaching, his maul slung casually over his shoulder. Blood dripped from cuts along his waist and left leg. “Nice to see you four survived. I shouldn’t be surprised by now; you’re all tougher than cockroaches.”

  “Where is Brett?” Bree asked.

  “It’s only me.” Chernor stepped to one of the windows and peered outside. “Have you checked for the patrolling knights?”

  “Still there,” Kael said. “Still watching for any escapees. They’ll suspect something’s amiss soon enough, I think.”

  “Which is why we should attack them before they realize their precious specters are dead,” Chernor said. “Five on six isn’t the best odds for us, but if we catch them with their pants down we might take out a few to make it manageable.”

  “They’ve got the high ground,” Saul said. “How could we be the ones on the surprise?”

  “We won’t with that shitty attitude,” Chernor said, waving him off. “The knights are waiting for fleeing royalty, right? I say we give them exactly that.”

  All eyes turned to Clara, who stared back with an icy glare.

  “Bait,” she said. “You want me to be bait.”

  “It’s either you or the Phoenix,” Chernor said. “And I know which one they’ll underestimate more. Plus, she looks a little on the woozy side if you ask me.”

  Kael took her hand in reassurance.

  “No one’s going to make you,” he said.

  “Like hell,” Chernor said, pulling his maul off his back. “Our whole island’s in danger, so no special treatment for Archon’s daughters. I’m still your superior, so consider this an order, Seraph. Either abandon your harness or join us in ambushing Center’s knights currently laying siege to your home.”

  Clara stood up straighter, all emotion drained from her face.

  “I will not abandon my home, my island, or my friends,” she said. “Tell me what to do.”

  CHAPTER

  15

  Kael wished he felt as calm as Clara looked. Despite Chernor’s assurances, he knew their plan was both drastic and dangerous, especially for Clara.

  “You better not let anything happen to you,” he said as they stood in the center of the garden, hidden from the knights’ view by the thick gathering of trees.

  “Or what?” she asked.

  “Or I’ll die avenging you, and then when we meet in the afterlife I’ll be really, really mad for at least a whole day.”

  Clara kissed his lips, her left hand gently settling atop his shoulder.

  “The angels spare me such a fate,” she said.

  “You two lovebirds ready to start?” Chernor asked.

  They nodded in answer.

  “What about you?” Kael asked his sister.

  Bree pulled her gauntlet over her burned hand, wincing as it clamped tight.

  “I feel much better,” she said. “I promise.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Chernor said. “Saul, ready?”

  He saluted in answer.

  “All right then.” Chernor turned back to Clara. “It’s all up to you now. Go when you’re ready, little Archoness.”

  Kael separated from her, and he prayed to every angel who might listen that it not be for the last time. Clara steeled herself, her emotions vanishing beneath a careful mask of concentration.

  “I’m ready,” she said. “Don’t let me down.”

  Clara soared skyward over the garden. Their hope was that she appeared to be fleeing from the specters inside the mansion. The garden put her in the center of all four knights, with no apparent escape. Kael readied his wings, his left thumb flicking back and forth atop the throttle. This was the most dangerous part of the entire plan for Clara. She raced eastward, drawing the knights after her. The two on either side of her steadily closed in, while the one ahead of her stayed where he was, waiting as the other two corralled her toward him. The fourth shifted so he could hover over the center of the mansion, keeping watch on all exits. The position put him directly above the garden within easy reach of ambush.

  “Turn around,” Kael whispered. “Come on, Clara, that’s far enough …”

  She was leaving the mansion behind while drawing in the other three knights with her. Little distance separated them from Clara, yet still they kept their elements in check. Kael chewed on his tongue, horror clawing at his heart. He repeated the same thought over and over in his mind as if he could deny it from becoming reality.

  You are no
t about to watch her die. You are not about to watch her die. You are not about to watch her die.

  Clara finally completed the plan. With a knight ahead of her there was no way she could outrace the other two. Instead she dove sharply, spinning into the dive so when she pulled back up she faced back toward the mansion. The two chasing knights veered outward, mimicking her maneuver. Now they unleashed their elements, ice and lightning tearing through the air. Every blast was a needle to Kael’s heart. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. She weaved and shifted, every bit of speed pouring into her wings as she returned to the holy mansion.

  “Trust your girl,” Chernor said, settling a hand atop Kael’s shoulder. “She’s got a bit of fire in her as well.”

  The knights would catch up to her in time, of that Kael had no doubt. But she only needed to survive for a few seconds more. Back and forth, constant dips and turns. Lightning flashed so close to her he nearly cried out. Her path lowered, drawing them into the ambush. The knight above them was completely distracted by Clara’s approach, no doubt readying for an intercept path.

  “It’s time,” Chernor said. “Fuck ’em up.”

  The four tore into the air, a barrage of elements marking their arrival. Chernor shot for the closest knight, his bolt of lightning perfectly aimed, while Kael and Saul sent sharp lances of ice flying toward the other three. Chernor’s bolt ripped through the knight’s chest. The knight convulsed, his wings keeping him in a hovering pattern. Chernor flew closer and swung, his maul striking the killing blow.

  Clara remained perfectly still as attacks passed by on either side. Knights saw the incoming elements with barely any time to react. Two scattered while the third formed a squat wall of stone in protection. Saul’s ice connected, the spear cutting through a knight’s leg, separating it at the knee. The knight bathed the wound in flame from his gauntlet before resuming the attack, a feat of concentration Kael would have found admirable if it weren’t so frightening.

  Bree, however, cared not for distance attacks. Her wings blazed silver, twin trails of fire dripping off her flaming swords as she streaked in for close combat. Kael separated from Chernor and Saul, connecting with his light element to push his wings beyond their normal limits. His shield was ready. Their ambush may have begun, but Clara was still closer to the knights than the others, and the brunt of their retaliation would be aimed at her.

  The stone wielder raced over his protective wall while the two others curled in from either side. Shot after shot of stone lobbed through the air, arcing with perfect accuracy at Clara. She kept watch over her shoulder even as she fled, waiting for the projectiles and adjusting as best she could. Kael tracked them as well, saw they were too numerous for her to consistently predict. Wind screamed against his body. His wings thundered. Shield up, he curled slightly higher and maneuvered himself directly into a barrage of four human-size boulders.

  Kael braced his body for the worst. Charging headlong into such boulders at his speed should shatter his bones and leave his wings in tatters, but he trusted his shield.

  Fire, lightning, stone, it’s all the same, a voice spoke in Kael’s mind, one he wasn’t sure was his own. All of it will break.

  Light exploded about his shield, flaring just before the first of the stones made contact. Instead of hearing the hard clang of collision, he heard a deep hum coupled with a loud crack. The boulders broke apart in an explosion of smoke and mist. The outer halves fractured and separated, spiraling wildly with only a trace of their former speed.

  Kael never felt the slightest hit against his shield, instead feeling the strain on his mind as the light element drained.

  “More!” Kael taunted, two other boulders careening straight for him. “Give me more!”

  His mind ached, the connection growing stronger, his shield growing brighter. The stone blasted to pieces, whatever magic holding it together failing against his own. His greater speed sent him past Clara and alongside his sister. The two chased the nearest knight together, Kael keeping slightly ahead. Their foe readied to attack, realized Kael’s shield led the way, and instead drew his weapon. It was a long metallic staff wrapped in red leather. A trio of flails hung from chains on each end, spinning together as the knight twirled his staff in a flourish.

  Kael slowed his wings, giving himself space and time to fire. Four shards launched from his palm, each one slightly higher than the last. The knight’s wings momentarily flared, pulling him higher as he twisted his body to one side. The flails spun, smashing two of the shards out of the air, the other two passing harmlessly by. Kael led with his shield, hoping to ram the knight out of the sky. Again the knight dashed away, avoiding the charge while attacking with his flails. They struck his shield with a deep thud, the impact jarring his shoulder. Kael didn’t know if his mind was too exhausted to withstand the attack, or if the nonmagical nature of the flails minimized the protection of his shield. Either way, it hurt like hell.

  Bree followed after, unafraid to engage the knight in close quarters. She swung with her left hand, had it blocked by the staff. Kael whirled around, and he saw bits of stone crumble on contact. Had the knights learned some trick to protect themselves from her flame? His sister shifted her body sideways, thrusting into yet another parry. The two circled each other, a revolving dance as they alternated blows, their bodies never still, their eyes never leaving the other’s. The knight spun the staff a full circle, building power into his flails, and then swept one end toward her face. Bree killed her wings and dropped beneath the strike. The flails swooshed the air, hitting nothing. Bree’s wings immediately surged back to life, carrying her upward as she slashed with both her blades against her foe’s weapon. The staff, reinforced as it was, could not endure the sudden blaze of flame and split in the middle. The light elements that had been reducing the staff’s tremendous weight immediately ceased to function. Both halves ripped from the knight’s hands and plummeted downward.

  The entire exchange lasted no longer than a few seconds, but the sheer number of attacks and parries made it feel like it had been a lifetime. An opening revealed, Bree burst forward, right arm slicing across the knight’s chest, who was then exposed and distracted by the pain. Kael buried him in ice, ending his life.

  Opponent defeated, the two turned their attention to the rest of the battle. Saul and Chernor had brought down another knight, and now with Clara at their side the three chased after the injured knight with the severed leg. He must have fled east the moment the battle started, for he had a good mile lead over the others.

  “I can’t catch up,” Bree shouted to him as she drew near. “But you can!”

  Kael tilted his body, squared his shoulders, and flooded light into his wings. His speed increased at a dramatic rate, pulling on his limbs and straining the buckles of his harness. Kael kept his eyes on the fleeing knight, hoping to intersect his path. The ground below was a blur, the protection for his face against the wind straining. A small voice in his mind dared wonder a question he partly feared to answer.

  Do I even need the throttle?

  The throttle sent power from the light element in his gauntlet to his wings through the connecting wires, but what if he ignored the throttle completely? The light element was under his control, pulsing so clearly in his mind he could see every little blemish and crack in its slowly draining prism.

  Kael envisioned himself slowing down as he curled slightly to cut the knight off. He imagined the wind reducing, the hum in his ears lessening. And it happened. His turn was perfectly smooth. Curving back around, Kael clenched his jaw tight and demanded speed. All of it. Every bit his prism could give him. The throttle was a suggestion, its maximum setting a feeble limiter. He angled his shield before him and let it part the wind while buoying him higher. Faster. Faster. Not just the ground a blur but the sky as well, his friends, all of Weshern. His eyes narrowed on his prey as the trio of Saul, Chernor, and Clara receded in a blink.

  Second by second, Kael closed the gap. Every muscle in his body
tightened, every bit of his concentration focused on keeping his body perfectly straight and still. One slip up, one twist of his shoulders, and he might spin to his death before even realizing he’d lost control. The knight looked behind him and spotted Kael’s approach. Still he tried to flee, the greater battle between Center’s forces and the outer islands just ahead. Kael doubted the knight understood how much speed Kael harnessed in his wings.

  He crept his right hand around the shield, his fingers curled into his palm while his knuckles pulled back to stretch open the focal point. Blue mist swirled about his palm, building with power. Kael shifted again, racing directly toward the knight. He kept the imagined projectile in mind, but he didn’t release. Not yet. Not until the gap was all but nothing.

  The knight saw him and panicked at his sudden proximity. A ball of flame shot from his gauntlet, badly underestimating his speed. It burned in Kael’s wake, accomplishing nothing. Kael never changed his direction and blasted straight past the knight. His arm swung back, the pent-up power releasing in the form of a giant square wall directly in the knight’s path. The knight’s body slammed into the wall with a scream of bone and metal. His body careened wildly to the ground on dying wings.

  Kael pulled himself erect and slowly eased back his speed. The pulsing of his light element grew less vibrant in his mind, more drawn out. Kael gazed upon the battle as he fought to regain his breath.

  “Impossible,” he whispered.

  Varl Cutter’s army pushed through the barren wasteland that had once been a beautiful field. Center’s soldiers formed uneven lines, a paltry defense to stop Cutter’s onslaught. Seraphim of all islands hovered over the battlefield, raining down destruction. Dozens of cannons lay broken across the battlefield, and dozens more broke as he watched. Kael couldn’t contain his excitement. The battle … they’d won it. They’d achieved aerial superiority over Center’s troops. The knights were already pulling back, keeping tightly together, making any attempt at chasing them extremely dangerous. Platforms hovered in their midst, the few soldiers and machines who’d managed to flee.