Compelled (25 page)

Vasili looked to Royse and me. “You two will take high point. Find the highest place on the island and protect the others as needed. If you find the wizards, confer with them on our status.”

“Understood,” Royse said.

She took my arm and pulled me away.
 

“And cousin,” Vasili whispered.

She turned back with a sweet smile as if expecting he’d have more to say.

“Don’t kill too many people this time. Stay alive if you can.”

“I’d say the same thing about you.” She gave him a curt nod.

I chuckled. There was nothing like family love on the battlefield.

Royse led the way into the complex in the direction Gostislav went.
 

“Did you memorize the map?” I asked. She couldn’t have visited this place before. The first buildings had been built in the late 1500s.

“Of course,” she replied with a grin. “The highest point on the island is the cathedral. We’ll scale the side to the top.”

“We will?” I mumbled. “And how are we supposed to not be seen? I know monks might go to bed early and all, but there might be human pilgrims and such roaming the grounds.”

Case in point, we froze when a man in monk’s garb about fifty feet away strolled from one building into the next.

“We need to mask ourselves, then,” she said.

Now that’s a new one.
She made it seem as if I did it on a whim whenever I wanted.

“Do you know how to do it?” I asked.

“It’s all about wind mastery,” she instructed. “By bending the light, you can obscure what others see. The good spellcasters, like wizards, can do it without an afterthought. The lucky bastards. It’s far harder for us, though.”

“Manipulating light and wind…” I chewed on the idea.

Seemed damn near impossible if anyone asked me.

As we crept toward the cathedral, Royse began to chant softly. I listened in, catching a familiar phrase here and there. A cloud of ozone, bitter and hard to breathe, gathered at her feet. The light around her head grew opaque and hard to make out. The haze grew larger and larger until everything appeared the same, yet I sensed I was behind something so much more. I’d witnessed a masking spell firsthand.

Royse moved on, not noticing she’d gotten hurt. A trail of bright red blood flowed from her ear down her neck. Was this the sign of a poor exchange in flesh for magic?
 

“Royse?” I whispered. She touched her earlobe and then noticed the crimson stain on her fingertips.

“I’m getting sloppy,” she remarked. “Need to focus next time.”

She took a few breaths and the bleeding stopped. The process was that simple for us to move on. Pretty soon, we’d reach the cathedral, but I had something on my mind I needed to say.

“Why did you bleed?” I asked.

“That’s what happens when you let the exchange dictate where the power is drawn from,” she said with a sigh.

So I was right. So that was why my nose bled as I tried to set the old magic spellcasters free. I’d pulled from myself and suffered the consequences.

Scaling up the church wall wasn’t too bad. With a quick jump, we clawed past the first floor, beyond the bell towers on the second and third floors until we reached the very top. From up here, the wind beat against our faces and the night sky opened up to madness.

“No...” Royse’s voice trailed off.

To the south, from the shore where we’d landed, another sea demon had rolled onto land. The beast attacked those who had remained there to protect the rear: the acolytes and a handful of the old magic spellcasters. While on the other side of the island, a great flash of light lit up the line of trees to the north. A full mile was bathed in brilliant light.

My mouth dropped open to see the frontline. A large cluster of wizards, most likely about twenty-five of them or so, formed a single line. Shoulder to shoulder they didn’t move as unimaginable creatures slammed into a great wall of light. The red-orange beam radiated warmth that extended hundreds of feet into the night sky. None of the humans who walked along the grounds reacted to it at all. It was rather unsettling to see a grotesque monster, the size of an office building, mashing its gaping teeth-filled mouth against the wall of light, slamming into it again and again. Birds with feathers lit as if on fire, swooped in again and again into the quivering wall.

Both parties’ collective power was a sight to behold.

“Good God, what happens if that wall falls?” I whispered.

“I don’t want to find out.” She peered beyond the wall of wizards and saw what I saw, far more warlocks concentrating their power on taking out their enemies, standing in loose formations near the monastery on the bridge to the island.

“Why aren’t they using hand-to-hand combat?” I asked.

“The wizards will hold them back until that’s necessary. There’s far less bloodshed using that method.”

I nodded, unease growing inside me. “How the hell are they holding up?”

“Sheer will. But they can’t keep that up forever. Sooner or later they will run out of weapons.”

“A source to draw from.”

“Precisely. That’s why most wizards lose when in battle like this. Either they lose in face-to-face combat or groups like this one run out of power. We need to help them.”

“How do we do that?”

Royse turned and we watched the water demon go down with a final slash of Vasili’s blade of fire. Flashes of light pulsed around him as wizards materialized from the far shore. That must have been the final barrier, keeping the wizards from reaching the island via the lake.

“Our army has arrived!” She turned to the frontlines. “Are you ready to show them how fierce the ladies can fight?” She took a piece of twine from a pocket on her leather belt. She wrapped it around her left wrist and then extended her left arm. While her left hand formed a fist, she used her right hand to pull the string away from her wrist. All the while, she spoke a spell. The string began to glow a golden hue and formed a beautiful bow of light.

“Let’s see what you can do with your little twig, young wolf,” she said with a sly grin.

I glanced at the goblin blade on my hand. The weapon had stuck with me until the very end. It still had the form of a wand. I pointed it toward the frontlines.

“So what do I hit?” I felt like a damn fool for asking, but what the hell, might as well ask.

“If it’s not defending the frontline, take it out. The wizards won’t harm the warlocks unless they have to do it, but we don’t have to follow such rules.”

“What about the wall?”

“The wall is to keep
them
out. Not us.”

From the corner of my eye, I spotted Vasili, the other spellcasters, and a growing number of wizards, including Dr. Frank closing in from the rear. Like Royse advised, I tapped into what worked the best. Fire. While mumbling my spell, I prayed for success. A swirling arc of fire materialized in front of us and shot straight in the air.

“Control it, Natalya,” Royse commanded as she shot arrow after arrow in quick succession. “Fire with control.”

“I know,” I blurted. “I’m not done yet.” The fireball continued to head skyward, then shot down like a bat out of hell and rained down flames on the warlock frontline. Bursts of red-orange heat swept across the horizon, slamming into the warlocks who concentrated on breaking the wizards’ frontline. Many fell off the bridge while others deflected the blow with a sweep of their arms.

The wall of light grew brighter as more wizards joined their brothers. The light intensified until it frothed and bubbled with power. So bright even Royse and I had to shield our eyes. The wall became a tsunami, surging forward and sucking in everything in its path: the warlocks on the bridge and the monstrous demons, who began to head back.

At my side, Royse shouted, “Time to leave this post for some fun.”

She couldn’t be serious. She wanted us to go to the frontlines.

“But I was enjoying the view…”

“Do you want to live forever, Natalya?” For some reason, a particular movie came to mind with that line, but I shrugged it off. This was real life and real people died down there.

“Do I have a choice?”

With a wink, Royse said, “We always do.”

As the wave of light receded, not as many warlocks remained in the aftermath. The men left standing turned in the direction of the line of wizards and roared. As the warlocks ran for the frontline, wizards pulled out glowing white staffs and wands. The time for the final fight had come. But the warlocks didn’t come unaided. Cyclops and trolls lumbered forward with clubs and maces. Dragons carried warlocks on their backs. Even worse, a handful of darklings sought out targets. The crimson glow from their eyes was easy to make out. A shock of red next to a cluster of darklings caught my eye. Cato.

We brought up the rear behind the old magic spellcasters, the acolytes, and Dr. Frank’s wizards.

My heart pounded faster with each step. Through the monastery. Past the trees toward the bridge.

As my legs propelled me toward the fray, my fear subsided, only to be replaced with a growing craving in my stomach. A hunger to hunt. To tear apart anyone who tried to come for me. This cause was bigger than Thorn now. I was doing it for me, too.

Flashes of white and purple exploded across the bridge as combat began. It was so painfully bright. At my side, Royse fired at warlocks and ran at the same time.

Under the command of a warlock, a cyclops swung at Gostislav. The nimble werewolf leapt out of the way, then spun with blinding speed holding a serrated blade. The weapon sliced through the cyclops with ease. The creature groaned and fell hard with a thud.

Not far from us, Vasili ran into the first darkling. Royse’s cousin appeared all too eager, the hints of his wolf touched his features. His bright purple eyes gleamed and he bared his teeth before he jumped onto the darkling and plunged his flaming sword into the darkling’s tentacle covered back.

A fog of scents blanketed the land. Ozone and cinnamon, the aftermath of spellcasting, blended together with blood and sweat. The stench was so strong I tasted it on my tongue.

Light erupted to my left. I’d been distracted too long. A warlock dived off a darkling and aimed his marbled staff toward a monstrous furry creature that made me stop dead in my sprint. It was that thing from my nightmares. That towering creature with a gaping mouth filled with jagged teeth that Grandma Lasovskaya had transformed into to save my life when the Long Island Pack’s flunkies cornered us. It had to be Tamara; my grandma was back home safe. The hair was different, a dark brown compared to my grandma’s white hair.

The darkling tackled Tamara, wrapping its tentacles around her body. Her massive clawed hands snatched its snapping mouth to keep it from biting her. They wrestled across the ground, running into a tree with a shudder.
 

“Tamara…” I whispered. The wand tingled in my hand. How the hell could I help? They were too close together.

Two of the darkling’s tentacles wrapped around her right arm. Snaking faster about the limb. With a vicious yank, it ripped her arm off at the shoulder. Blood sprayed the trees above.

“No!” I screamed. I glanced about, then up at the tree next to them. The ancient words Tamara taught me came fast. The wand responded in kind, channeling my fury into action.

Burn, baby, burn.

A limb exploded and fell across the darkling’s back. The creature hissed. The distraction was just enough for Tamara to open her mouth wide and rip out the darkling’s throat.

With a roar, Tamara tossed the carcass off and stormed away from me, right toward Cato, who had just taken down a wizard.

Cato laughed when he saw her coming. “Come for me, you old bitch!” I expected fire, ice, or any other form of magic, but when he aimed to fire, a golden arrow pierced his shoulder from behind.

A hundred paces away, I caught Royse, and, in a flash, she was on the next target. With another opportunity in place, Tamara swooped in for the kill. She only had one arm, but that hand had enough strength to wrench his staff away and hold him down. The cursing warlock wasn’t totally unarmed though. A hand snaked out with a wicked blade. He stabbed it into her side again and again.

There was no way in hell I was gonna let this guy go without getting a taste of the action.

I jumped in, not caring what came at my back. His upper body was exposed, and that was just enough room for me to step in before Tamara had to let him go.

I swung my arms high with the wand pointed downward. I could have burned him. Froze the sneer on his face, but swinging the wand into his chest was all the more satisfying after he’d attacked my friends.

The wand cut into him as smooth as any blade. When he snarled, I gave the wand a hard twist to the right. “That’s for burning down a perfectly good house,” I growled.

Cato twitched and then with eyes still open he died. Tamara rolled off him. When I reached for her, her wide mouth opened, and she hissed at me.

The pain was there in her eyes, swimming through her so deep. I was better off leaving her to limp off the battlefield to a quiet corner.

When I looked up, not as much fighting was taking place. More fighters on our side stood than those on the opposing side.

Holy shit, we’d won.

Long hours in the night passed and I spent most of them walking along the bridge to Stolobny Island to check on prisoners and help the wounded wizards. Those who appeared hurt needed to be guided to one of the wizards who arrived for healing. With so many people roaming the monastery, it took a while to sort everything out.

I found Dr. Frank and told him Tamara was hurt, but we never found her. Her scent disappeared at the water’s edge. Hopefully, she made it out of here alive.
 

Elric, the man who had betrayed the trapped werewolf spellcasters, also was never found, much to Vasili’s disgust. Gostislav reported seeing him escape to the north with a few of the warlocks who went deeper into the forests. My heart hurt for the old magic spellcasters who wanted revenge.

By the time the light of day arrived, not a single supernatural creature dwelled on the island.