Authors: Richelle Mead
Almost opposite us, on the other side of the forest, Shaya should have been preparing to summon her tree warriors. She and Dorian swore it would be a noisy affair, so there’d been no need for a secret countdown or anything like that. The castle was too far away for me to make out any identifiable features, but the spirits indicated the spot containing the side door.
Minutes dragged by, and I imagined all sorts of horrible fates for Shaya. Oh, God. What if they caught and killed her? She’d come here out of loyalty to Dorian, and no matter what else had happened, I’d come to respect her immensely. I didn’t want her to die because of this.
Dorian approached my right side and put an arm around me. “Don’t worry. This will be finished before you know it. Ah—there we are.”
In the distance, we heard it. Wood crackling and splitting. A low roar. Faint shouts of alarm carried over the air, and the guards in our view took off running toward the noise. We waited until they’d cleared the area.
“Now is our time,” murmured Volusian. “Go.”
We streaked across the open area, toward the doorway. I could hear the noise on the other side. The sound of something breaking. More shouts. Shaya’s plan had been to send about a dozen massive trees to beat on the walls over there. What a wake-up call that had to have been.
“W-wait! Hold it!” I suddenly cried.
The spirits stopped instantly. Dorian took a moment longer to slow down and gave me an odd glance. “What’s wrong?”
I peered around. My senses tingled. I could feel water, lots of it. The way I felt in crowds or at Dorian’s. Water in numerous condensed clusters. The water sources were people. Lots of them.
We’d been set up. Again.
“Fuck!”
They seemed to come out from everywhere, though I knew they all had to have been hiding in the castle’s vicinity or else I would have felt them sooner. They came down from the roofs, out the door we’d been staking out, from around the corner. And somehow I knew the ones who ostensibly had run off would return.
I heard Dorian yell, “They won’t kill you—not if they don’t have to!” Then, the side of the castle exploded in a downpour of huge black rocks, causing those above and still scaling to fall down to death or at least serious injury. Others standing nearby were buried by the fallout.
My spirits had standing orders to attack anyone attacking us, and I saw them flare up for battle. As for me, I’d come packing two guns tonight, again courtesy of Lara. Both had steel cartridges, and my pockets held more clips still, plus a few silver ones. I kept what distance I could from the thick of the fray and fired, aiming for heads and faces if I could, but mostly happy if I could bring anyone down at all.
Regular range practice paid off, and I hit almost everyone I fixed on. No one ever managed to get too close to me. The spirits I ignored. They couldn’t die, and only another shaman or Dorian-caliber magic user could banish them.
After his spectacular wall demolition, Dorian had resorted to a more conventional method: a copper sword he’d worn sheathed under his cloak. It glowed red in the darkness, and I realized he could enhance its power since copper came from inside the earth. He didn’t fight with brute force, but he moved with speed and skill, surprising me as much as the horse-riding had. I wouldn’t have minded another show of that earth power, but all magic took its toll. It would do no good for him to burn himself out yet.
Suddenly, I saw one of the guards moving up on him, just out of Dorian’s line of sight. I started to cry out a warning, and then a large, four-legged form ran forward, snarling as he threw his weight into the guard. Dorian gave a quick glance of surprise but quickly returned to fighting. I couldn’t recover so quickly and could only stare as Kiyo, in what I had jokingly dubbed the “superfox” form, clawed and ripped at his victim. The man did manage to slice Kiyo’s side, making me wince, but the fox seemed unaffected. Shaking my head, knowing I could neither wonder how he’d shown up nor worry about his safety, I returned to my own battles.
A few victims later, I had my aim on someone when I sensed another form sneaking up behind me. I turned but wasn’t quite fast enough. He grabbed my arm and bent the gun away from him, forcing me to the ground. With my left hand, I managed to drag out the other gun. It was more or less smothered as his body tried to pin mine down, and I had no real target. It didn’t matter. I just sort of aimed in an upward direction and fired. He screamed and recoiled enough for me to push off and fire again with more precision.
Someone else took advantage of my distraction and grabbed me from behind. I’d stuffed the extra gun back in my pants and now struggled against him with the first gun when suddenly it grew hot in my hands. Burning hot. I yelped and dropped it, staring as it lay sizzling on the ground, glowing faintly orange.
I didn’t have to hear his voice in my ear to know who held me.
“Eugenie Markham, lovely of you to pay me a visit.”
“I’m going to kill you,” I hissed.
“Yes, yes, you told me that before, and yet, I see it’s not really working out. You should have taken me up on my earlier offer.” He barked out a command to a nearby guard who ran up to us. “Disarm her before she kills anyone else.”
With all the confusion, none of my other allies noticed what was happening. I opened my mouth and began chanting the ritual words to bring the spirits. They were currently too far out of range to simply hear me shout. Realizing what I attempted, Aeson threw me onto the ground, using his body weight to hold me while one hand covered my mouth.
“Hurry!”
The guard removed my athames and wand. For the extra gun, he wrapped his hand in the folds of his cloak to retrieve the weapon and then hastily tossed it away.
“You’re a damned nuisance—and a deadly one,” muttered Aeson. “Keeping you alive for nine months may be more trouble than it’s—ow!”
I didn’t see what happened to him but heard a
thunk
above me.
“You used your power to toss one rock at me?” he exclaimed, an almost comic note of incredulity in his voice.
“On the contrary,” I heard Dorian say pleasantly. “I didn’t use magic for that. I just threw it.”
Aeson tossed me toward his guard, just as flames rose up from the ground. In the darkness, the bright light hurt my eyes, forcing me to glance away. Heat rolled off that scorching orange wall, instantly heating up my skin. The guard attempted to scramble back and hold me at the same time, doing a half-assed job at both, though he still managed—just barely—to keep me restrained.
My gaze stayed on the fire’s flickering colors until I suddenly felt the ground shake. Jerking my head up as much as my restraint allowed, I saw a cloud of darkness rise above the flames. It crashed down, like the palm of one’s hand, and the fire abruptly went out, extinguished as pounds of dirt slammed it to the ground.
Without missing a beat, Dorian gestured to the spot Aeson stood on. I felt shaking again and saw the earth ripple, like a wave of water moved under the surface. It knocked Aeson off-balance, and then a storm of rock shards—much as I’d seen with the nixies—swirled around, taking aim. Still on the ground, Aeson lifted his own hands. Waves of heat blasted away the rocks, scattering them in different directions. Some of them melted, dripping back to the earth in a molten shower.
Ashes filled the air, and I could hear Aeson coughing as he stumbled to his feet. The ground trembled again, pushing him back to his knees. He supported himself with one hand and gave a shaking, raspy laugh.
“It didn’t have to come to this,” he said. “If you would have just shared her, she might already be with child.”
A shower of rocks spattered Aeson as Dorian strode forward. They weren’t razor sharp, but they looked like they hurt. The Alder King winced and shielded his face.
“I don’t share,” Dorian said flatly. The earth near Aeson coalesced into ropes of dirt, winding their way around his limbs. Score one for bondage fetishes.
“Too bad. You might have lived had you felt differently.”
Aeson suddenly burst up, breaking through the bonds of earth. As he did, fire blasted from all around him, outlining him and then shooting forward. My scream was smothered in my captor’s hand as I saw Dorian fly backward. Aeson charged forward, his hands controlling and shaping the flames into a ring around Dorian’s crouching form. The walls flared up high and thick, so hot they gleamed blue and white. I wouldn’t have thought Dorian could survive that inferno, but Aeson kept talking to him as though he were still alive.
“Too many theatrics, Dorian, and not enough strength left now to free yourself.”
I looked around desperately. There weren’t many guards left. In the distance, I saw Kiyo nail some guy pretty handily—the man’s pain-filled scream affirmed as much—but he was too far to help, just like the spirits. I realized then my guard’s hold had slackened; he was apparently transfixed by his master’s showdown. Others, just as captivated, stopped and stared.
Taking advantage of the guard’s lack of attention, I shoved my elbow back into his stomach and attempted to spring free. I didn’t really expect to achieve that goal, but it did uncover my mouth. I spoke the summoning words, and Nandi and Volusian appeared.
“Get Aes—” I began, just before the hand slammed on my mouth again. Another guard joined mine to help with the confinement.
The spirits shifted from humanoid form to something else, still vaguely anthropomorphic but more like a cloud of energy. They swooped toward Aeson, one shining and blue, the other black and silver.
He deflected them with flames while still holding the walls on Dorian. An instant later, I saw a wand in one of his hands. No. He couldn’t—
He spoke banishing words, and I felt the surge of power in the air as he tore open a hole to the Underworld. The form that was Nandi trembled and then exploded, disappearing in sparkles. She’d found her peace at last—and without another two years of service to me.
“Call the other one off,” snapped Aeson, “unless you want to lose him too.”
The hand on my mouth lifted. I hesitated. I had nothing to lose if Volusian won or lost. In fact, Aeson’s request likely indicated he couldn’t banish the spirit to the land of death. Gentry rarely had that kind of power anyway, so Aeson probably couldn’t do what I had been unable to do. But if he fought Volusian, it was possible he could have enough strength to break my control and enslave him as a minion. That was not an option. Better for the spirit to be destroyed than turned against me.
“Hold, Volusian.”
He retreated immediately, coalescing back into his normal shape.
Aeson returned to Dorian. The Alder King held up his hand and brought his fingers together in a fist. The burning walls contracted, resembling more of a cocoon than a cylinder now. Through the crackling of flames, I heard Dorian scream.
Helplessness choked my heart. Just like with the mud elemental. Just like with the nixies. I had no weapons and no freedom. This was exactly the kind of situation Dorian kept speaking of. The time magic would be handy. I couldn’t use it, however. My abilities included only miniscule water manipulation and out-of-control storms and their consequences.
Yet, suddenly, I didn’t care about the consequences. I wanted to summon a major storm, a storm to devastate this whole area. Maybe it’d kill my friends and me, but things didn’t really look good for us anyway. Focusing my mind on that, I tried to recall the angry tempests I’d created before.
Only…it didn’t work. Maybe it was because I’d never consciously done such a thing before. Or maybe it was because I could no longer see storms as a whole. They were pressure and charged particles and—most importantly—water. Dorian had taught me to compartmentalize the elements, and that’s all I could do now. I thought about storms, but all my mind did was reach out and touch all the water sources nearby. Damn it. Finding water did no good, not unless I could move a whole lake and douse the fire. I doubted I could command that much water, even if I had a source like that nearby.
But I didn’t need one that big.
I only needed to summon a smaller water source, one my powers could manage. I refocused. My magic reached out, grasping and connecting with the water molecules I wanted. They recognized me, and I called them forward. They resisted a little. There were more of them here than had been in the pitcher.
Obey me!
I shouted to them.
Come to me! I am your mistress.
Only a few seconds passed while I struggled for control of the water. Meanwhile, Aeson was still holding his arms up, collapsing the walls slowly in what was probably a sadistic effort to prolong Dorian’s pain. Still, I needed the delay as I pushed and pulled the water more fiercely.
A funny look crossed Aeson’s face just then, and he glanced around, as though trying to find something. Yet, he didn’t know what that was.
Come to me!
I could feel the water breaking free, unable to resist my command. A look of horror twisted Aeson’s face. His hands dropped and clutched his head, almost as if he would claw it off. Behind him the flames around Dorian abruptly faded and disappeared, almost as if a lake had dropped onto them after all.
But as I’d noted, I hadn’t needed a lake. I’d only needed a smaller source. I’d needed Aeson. The water in him was a size I could manage, the source I’d called out to and commanded. After all, the human—or gentry—body is 65 percent water.