Sorceress Hunting (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 3) (27 page)

Drawing his second sword from its scabbard, Gregory
sent the deadly sharp tip slicing toward Gryton’s neck.

The commander caught the sword, the force of the blow
cutting deep.

Fire and blood welled up from the cut. An intense wave
of molten heat rushed up the length of Gregory’s sword, vaporizing both blade
and hilt.

Pain lanced up his arm and shoulder, but he drove into
Gryton, grappling with him and driving him back, away from the hamadryad one
step at a time.

“Let me go and no one else need die this day,” Gryton
rasped. “I only want away from this cursed land before it brings about the
death of us all.”

Ah. Truth. Gripping his enemy by the throat, Gregory
felt something of Gryton’s thoughts, emotions, and power.

He was a fire elemental, but not a fire demon of the
ancient world. He was something else, something newer—young compared to
Gregory’s vast age.

And half-trained as he was, he was ruled by his
power—he didn’t control it.

Could he be crossing swords with the Battle Goddess’
son?

How had such a thing come about? If so, how had she
hidden him for so long?

Gryton’s power surged again, greater this time than
before. Only Gregory’s talons, where they had pierced through the commander’s armor,
held his enemy locked in place and prevented him from being tossed aside by the
blast wave.

The power raced past him, out into the glade where it
caught Lillian as she ran to his aid. The force lifted her off her feet and
tossed her back toward her tree where she hit the ground and rolled with the
limpness of death or unconsciousness.

He slammed his weight into Gryton, forcing him to his
knees.

Lillian wasn’t dead, he would have known instantly if
she was, but still he worried for her.

Without his spirit magic, he knew he couldn’t defeat
Gryton, not quickly, certainly not fast enough to prevent other friends, allies
and family from dying.

But Darkness had shown him the way.

With a last look where Lillian lay, the mother of his
yet unborn child, alive and beautiful in her gargoyle form, he closed his eyes
and called to a power greater than himself.

It answered his call with a joyful rush. His scars
flared to life and began to glow as the trapped power looked for the easiest
route of escape.

Gregory locked his jaws against the first wave of pain
as his body struggled to hold itself together even as more magic flowed into
his body from the Spirit Realm.

Lillian had ordered him to do what he had to do, and
she hadn’t realized her mistake and now she was unconscious, unable to stop him
for which he was grateful.

Gryton kicked and twisted, but he held fast as the
cold power of the Spirit Realm built within him.

He sent his mind seeking Lillian’s, to find her coming
back to consciousness. It was too late to stop him from destroying himself and
Gryton along with him, even if she issued another order.
“Beloved, I am
sorry. I saw no other way to save you and our child. I want more than anything
to be there, but I must go for a while. Know I will return to you, even though
it will be many years. Good-bye.”

Lillian jerked and rolled to her feet. “No! Gregory,
no!

Something else answered Lillian’s desperate call, and
he felt the ground shaking and rolling under him. The force of a sudden violent
surge tore his enemy from his clasp.

Gregory cursed and tried to go after him, but the
ground heaved again as hundreds of thin reddish ropes coiled around his body.
Tiny filaments sprouted from them and crawled along his skin.

Roots.

They were roots.

The hamadryad shuddered, her branches quaking as if a
hurricane was bearing down on them. The ground heaved again.

One of Lillian’s endearing but naïve questions from an
earlier conversation came back to him in a rush. She’d asked if the tree was
going to relocate and walk back to the Magic Realm or some such. He’d brushed
away her question as silly.

Now, he wasn’t so sure.

He wondered if the last thing he was going to see in
this life was the marvel of a fifty-foot tree taking her first few steps.

He’d seen many strange things.

A walking tree wasn’t one of them.

His disbelieving thoughts snapped back into sharp
focus when a thousand tiny roots prodded at his scars. Their questing tips sank
in, digging deep, past skin and into muscle and bone.

He roared in pain as the tree began to feed.

Lillian staggered to her feet and felt Gregory’s mind
merge with hers, to say goodbye. She screamed her denial and started toward
him, but her hamadryad reacted faster. She could only watch in horror as more
roots shifted below the ground.

The roots got there first. Lillian arrived at his side
just as he roared in agony.

Tiny filaments dug into his body. She felt what he
felt at that moment. Blood and power leaked out a thousand tiny punctures.

Horror and helplessness filled Lillian, and she drew
her dagger and reached for the nearest root.

No harm. Heal our beloved
, her
hamadryad whispered into her thoughts.

Lillian’s hand froze halfway to her target as she
realized what her eyes were actually seeing.

The lattice-like webbing of a shielding spell glowed
pale between the reddish roots covering him. Skin or armor, the roots didn’t
care and dug into each equally. The tree fed upon his blood, but she was also
drawing off the excess magic trying to tear itself free of Gregory’s body.

The hamadryad was preventing Gregory from being torn
apart.

Still, it had to be unbearably painful, and Lillian
paced a circle around him. At least he seemed to have passed out.

Gryton had staggered off several steps, heading in the
direction of her hamadryad. Lillian narrowed her eyes and then sought out her
mother.

She was bent over next to Darkness’ stone form, and a
new lump grew in Lillian’s throat. River rose from beside her mate, tears
leaving tracks down her face.

Her father—she’d never really known him, they’d only
had days together.

It was not fair.

It was not just.

Well, by God and the Divine Ones, she’d just make her
own damn justice.

River met Lillian’s eyes and then gave a nod in
wordless agreement. With a swirl of long skirts and the hollow ring of twin
swords being drawn, River darted after the retreating form of Gryton.

Lillian followed suit, her own swords ringing loud to
her heightened gargoyle senses.

River’s sharp steel swept out in a deadly arc toward
Gryton’s neck. He whirled and blocked, twisting his upper body enough to force
River’s swords down and away.

He kicked at her, but she danced away and then darted
back just as fast.

Swords clashed in a blur of bright silver light and
the clear high sound of honed blades. River slashed at Gryton. He snarled as
the sword’s tip cut a four-inch gash just above where the arrow had hit. In
retaliation, he gave River her own red, gaping wound on her right arm. She came
at him again, their sword hilts locking together for a moment. He took
advantage of the opening to deliver a crippling blow to her shoulder with his armored
elbow. There was a sickening crack and River lost her grip on one sword.

The injury barely slowed her, and she continued to
harry Gryton with her remaining sword.

Lillian stepped in, taking up the rhythm of the fight.
It was obvious she was outclassed, but her interference was enough to prevent
Gryton from winning the fight.

The battle continued for longer than Lillian would
have liked, somewhere behind her Gregory was still fighting for his life. At
least Gryton was weakening. Perhaps River sensed it too because her attack
turned vicious, Gryton barely managed to block in time.

“Let me go,” he said suddenly, directing his statement
at River. “You know what will happen if I lose control of my magic here.”

“Perhaps I would have cared before you killed my
mate,” River thrust her sword’s point at him, catching him in the side,
penetrating his armor. “Now I will send you back to the Battle Goddess a piece
at a time. What should I send back first? Your head?”

“If you force my hand, we’ll all die here in this
forsaken land.”

Lillian decided a change in tactic was in order and
dropped to all fours and rammed Gryton in the back, her horns ground against
his armor and found a seam, stabbing deep, up under where a rib would have been
on a human. Just as quickly, she dropped and rolled, coming up several feet
away from him.

She remembered what his blood had done to one of
Gregory’s swords.

Gryton stumbled sideways, and she thought the bastard
was finally going down for the count, and then saw it was just a maneuver to
avoid River and her lethal blade.

But Gryton was desperate now. She could smell the
stink of fear and exhaustion upon him even over the hot, dry smell of fire.

When River closed in on Gryton for the kill, he roared,
and a wave of heat blasted out from his location. River was closer, and it
rammed into her with the force of a train.

Lillian darted behind one of the small standing stones
circling her tree. The shelter was enough to save her from mortal injury, but
she could already smell the burnt flesh of her exposed wings.

They didn’t hurt, which was probably really bad.

“You should have let me go,” Gryton said as he limped
into her field of vision. “We’ll die together. I suppose there is some symmetry
in that. Mayhap the Divine Ones are laughing at us all.” He’d lost his sword
somewhere, but no longer really needed it.

A film of fire crawled across every inch of his armor
and danced in the breeze of its own making.

Anna stood shoulder to shoulder with Gran and watched
the map. She was still somewhat surprised she and Shadowlight were allowed in
the war room.

Still, she imagined Gran and her magic had a lot to do
with the whole calm atmosphere thing.

But even Gran’s magic couldn’t keep everyone calm when
all the little floating lights above the map marking the maze’s center blinked
out.

The tension increased a few more notches, and Anna
eyed the others in the room as they continued their assignments as calmly as if
it was a training exercise. Colonel Tremblay gave the order to signal all other
teams to move in and engage.

As a group, the senior officers turned their attention
from the map to the live feeds, which showed the real time view of the glade,
as seen by a number of helmet cams and an aerial drone circling the area.

Anna trailed behind Shadowlight as he came to stand
next to one of the screens. He was silent, staring at the screen with an
unhappy expression. It was worry, harder to read on a gargoyle, sure, but worry
all the same.

Having the kid watch the flickering lights on the
magic-enhanced map was one thing. Having him watch live feeds as his family
faced off against a formidable enemy, was something else.

“Shadowlight shouldn’t be watching this,” she directed
her statement at Gran because there was no way she was going to interrupt her
superiors at the moment. She was still too uneasy about the concept of her
continued freedom.

The older woman frowned. “No. Likely not.”

“I’m staying.” The note of finality in his tone shared
qualities with a concrete wall reinforced with rebar.

There was no way an eight-year-old should sound so
damn certain of himself. “I don’t think…”

“I’ve seen worse.”

“Well, you bloody well shouldn’t have,” Anna
countered.

“Fighting the Riven and Gryton has shown me true evil
doesn’t care if one is a child or an adult. We can all still die.”

Anna felt ill. “Good lord, kid. When all this is over,
we’re so going to sit and watch some Saturday morning cartoons, and you’re just
going to be a kid.”

Everyone was looking at them now.

Major Resnick was giving her his best ‘shut the fuck
up’ look while Gran just looked thoughtful. Colonel Tremblay’s intense stare
was enough to make her come to attention and seal her mouth firmly shut. His
eyes remained on her for a second more and then returned to the screens.

Well, damn it. Shadowlight was just a kid. He should
get to be one.

Then all hell broke loose on screen, and there was no
time to worry or argue.

She watched in helpless fury as Tin Man went about the
business of systematically exterminating the humans and Fae present.

It wasn’t that fast, of course, but after several
minutes of battle there wasn’t many left to face him. It came down to just the
two male gargoyles. Even they were having trouble.

“Father,” Shadowlight cried out in horror when
Darkness fell.

With the absolute certainty of hindsight, Anna knew
she should have made the kid leave, somehow.

Shadowlight darted toward the door. Gran called to him
as Colonel Tremblay issued more orders, other officers relaying them on down
the chain of command.

“Wait, kid,” Anna shouted above the noise. “I’m coming
too.”

She heard Colonel Tremblay order a strike package as
she raced toward Shadowlight. Like hell, she thought, knowing what she was
about to do next could only end in a court-martial, but the kid’s family was
there, and they might still be alive.

Shadowlight paused at the door, half in and half out,
long enough for her to reach his side. He dipped a wing in invitation, and she
realized he intended for her to ride on his back. Well, he was the size of a
large pony, so why not.

“Mackenzie, halt,” Major Resnick shouted.

“One minute,” she said to Shadowlight when she noticed
Major Resnick rushing up to her. He shoved a gun and some ammo into her hands,
and then thought better of it and stuffed a few more things into a pack and
handed it to her too.

“Go kill that bastard for me,” Major Resnick bit out.
“He’s killed way too many of my men. He doesn’t get to live.”

Anna glanced at the pack and saw the grenades and gave
Resnick a wolfish grin.

“Just hold him off until we can send reinforcements.”
Resnick patted her on the arm. “And don’t get killed. Your father will never
forgive me.”

Anna nodded and then slung a leg over an impatient
Shadowlight.

Then the gargoyle was off and running, and Anna was
holding on for dear life. Outside, she realized Shadowlight wasn’t planning on
running the whole way. He spread his wings and leaped up into the air. Her
shout of surprise was stolen by the wind, and then she was too busy not falling
off to scream in terror.