The Girl With Red Hair (The Last War Saga Book 1) (20 page)

“Come with me, Tannyl,” she whispered. “Whatever memories haunt you, we can leave them here. I know the way. I can free you.”

His mind fought for control as his body pressed into hers.
It’s some sort of spell
, he shouted to himself mentally.
She killed Fae’Na
. Conjuring the fallen Druid in his mind was all Tannyl needed. Rage jolted his body and he launched forward, driving a knee between them and shoving her to the ground. He let out a yell of fury and stomped down on her as she began to rise. Her body fell against the bottom of the wall, her head cracking loudly off the stone. Her neck twisted into an impossible angle and her body fell flaccid.

He stood panting, hovering over the body, trying to knit his senses back together. Everything seemed twisted out of proportion and it was quiet. Far too quiet. It was oppressive, no longer a comfort to the Hunter as he stood rooted in the hallway. Time slowed to a stop.

“How disappointing.”

Tannyl couldn’t move as he watched Maira’s head twist back into position. She was upon him in an instant. Tannyl hadn’t even seen her move, but she had a hand tight around his throat, forcing him into the wall just as he had done to her. Her eyes had darkened, but Tannyl found a distant part of his mind in awe of her beauty.

“Tannyl, Tannyl, Tannyl,” she said, eyes drilling into his. She could see his soul, he knew, and he was at once both horrified and intoxicated with the thrill of it. “I could show you things you could never dream of.”

He spit in her face. “Damn you,” he said, but gasped as her grip tightened.

Her free hand drew a finger through the phlegm and brought it to her mouth. She sucked off the spittle and moaned. Then she pressed her lips against his. He felt his lips part and move against hers, his tongue hungrily lashing out until it met hers. She moaned deeply, pushing into him, squeezing his throat tighter. He couldn’t breathe, but some part of him whispered that it was all right. He could just let go…

Tannyl hadn’t realized his eyes were closed. When the pressure faded and he opened them, she was gone.

He collapsed to his knees and vomited.

Chapter Twenty-Two

THE DOOR SHUDDERED against the weight of an unseen attack and Adelaide yelped. Alexander reached behind him until he found her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He hoped it calmed the girl more than it did him.

“It’s a long way down,” Sachihiro said. “But the next balcony ain’t too far. Maybe we could jump it?”

Alexander didn’t need to turn to know it was madness. Jaydan lay in the middle of the balcony floor, nearly catatonic. Whatever he had done to heal Alexander’s wounds was taking its toll. Alexander swallowed his guilt and shook his head, eyes riveted on the slowly deteriorating door.

“You and I might make it, but no way Addy or—”

“Hey, I can jump,” she said suddenly. Alexander could sense her moving to the railing. “It’s Jaydan that needs help.”

He admired her defiant confidence, but it did little to change the situation. Whatever was trying to breach the door was going to succeed in a few moments, and they were in no shape to fight. Though his wounds were knitted, pain seeped from every joint, making it hard to hold on to his glaive. And he couldn’t stop shaking. He knew what it would mean to fail.

A loud
crack
sounded from the door, followed by a clap of thunder from outside. Alexander tightened his grip and gritted through the lance of pain that shook up his spine.

“Well, Erlen, you ready to tame some beasties?” Sachihiro asked. He came and stood beside Alexander, short sword at the ready. He turned and winked at Alexander.

“If by ‘beasties’ you mean dragons, then of course I am ready to tame. I am Erlen Dragontamer after all. It wouldn’t be much of a name if it weren’t the truest of the true things one could truly tell.”

The upper corner of the door crumbled, revealing the enemy beyond. Piercing eyes like embers burned in the dark of the hallway. Alexander couldn’t begin to count them. There seemed to be hundreds.

“Well, those aren’t dragons. No, they are not. I know dragons. And as such, a Dragontamer is an unnecessary thing to have in such a situation.”

“Suit yourself,” Sachihiro said, taking a step into the room. “More for Alexander and me.”

Alexander wanted to reach out and pull Sachihiro back onto the balcony, farther away from the door. He wanted to slap the man and get him to see the stark reality of their situation. They were going to die.

“Are you going to die?” Adelaide asked, coming to lean against his side.

“No, honey, we’re going to be just fine,” he said, and then immediately realized that she hadn’t asked if they were going to die, but if
he
was going to.

The door burst inward, spraying the room with bits of rotted wood and splinters of rusted iron. It was hard to see the creatures in the dim candlelight, but Alexander knew there were more than he could account for. They poured into the room like a black wave carrying glowing sparks of fire. Snarls and loud hisses came in with the creatures. Death itself most certainly followed.

Alexander pushed Adelaide behind him and felt her squeeze his waist tightly. Sachihiro let out a booming laugh and twirled his short sword. He winked at Alexander again and motioned the enemy to advance with a wave of his hand.

But they didn’t.

Dozens of the shadowy things filled the room, covering every surface. Some clung to the walls, and Alexander was certain some hung from the ceiling. They stared at their prey, gasping in ragged breaths, claws scratching at the stone.

Sachihiro looked over his shoulder, suddenly looking as confused as Alexander felt. “Uh, what do you think they’re doing?”

Alexander shook his head, eyes fixed on the new creature that had entered the room. It too was shrouded in misty shadows, but the sheer size of the thing made it stand out among its lesser brethren. Even as hunched over as it was, it towered over Alexander by a foot or more. Long claws dragged along the ground, and it let loose a bone-chilling shriek. Jagged teeth shone in the gloom, and Alexander realized that the twisted head of skintight gray flesh and pools of darkness was upside down, the burning eyes below the gaping maw. It disoriented Alexander and he felt his grip on the shaft of his glaive weaken.

“Time to forge our legend,” Sachihiro said as he launched himself at the creature.

He didn’t even cover the gap between them before it lashed out with a clawed foot at the middle of his chest and sent him back into Alexander. They went down in a heap. Alexander heard Adelaide shriek, but it was only polished stone beneath his back—she must have gotten out of the way in time. It was a small victory.

Alexander rolled Sachihiro off of him and rose into a crouch, pointing his blade at the creature. Sachihiro let out a laugh that turned into a moan, but he rejoined Alexander, blade still in hand.

“Well, it sure was nice to have met ya, Alexander. Erlen, be a friend, and take care of Squirrel for me.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Alexander said, though he heard the quake in his voice. “We need to protect Addy. Think we could toss her to the next balcony?”

“A little late for that, I think.”

Alexander looked at the mass of writhing black shapes just in time to see them move as one. They flowed like a singular inky mass of gray flesh, shadows, and sharp claws. The giant was at their center, pointing at the balcony with a twisted finger.

Something pushed at Alexander’s back and slid past him into the room. The chaos was almost too much for him to notice the swatch of red hair in the flash of lightning. His heart lodged in his throat and he clumsily reached for her, but grabbed only air.

The small girl strode to the threshold between balcony and death and stopped. Her arms hung casually at her sides, her head tilted up just slightly. The creatures were upon her in an instant. Alexander dropped his glaive and stumbled forward. He had to get her back. He had to save her.

A bright flash of light lit up the room, and the collective mass of creatures shrieked in unison. In the momentary light, Alexander could see them fall back, like a wave being repelled by a rocky cliff. Adelaide remained in place, still as could be. A shimmering wall of translucent gold stretched across the threshold and reached to the ceiling, separating the two spaces.

Alexander knelt at her side and put a hand to her, but she didn’t react. He leaned forward enough to catch her eyes, but they were unseeing. Golden light pulsed from both sockets, the stormy gray of the one replaced, and the natural color of the other intensified. It was like staring into a pair of suns.

From the opposite side of her, Sachihiro whistled. “Addy’s got magic. Who knew?”

Not me
, Alexander thought. The creatures regrouped and flung themselves at the barrier. Magic flared and they fell back in obvious fits of pain and rage. What magic could do this? Admittedly, Alexander knew little of the craft. Seeing what Jaydan was capable of went far beyond what he even dreamed was possible, and even that had nearly killed the Healer. But this… Something about it felt far more powerful.

The barrier repelled another attack in a flash of brilliant light. Sachihiro howled with laughter and clapped his hands together. But Alexander was looking only at Adelaide. A fourth attack sent shockwaves through the room, and he thought he saw her falter for a moment. A shoulder drooped, her chin wavered.

“That’s right, creepy crawlies,” Sachihiro was yelling. “Go back to whatever hole your mama shit you out of.”

They reacted to that, throwing themselves at the barrier with reckless abandon, no longer attacking as a single unit, but as dozens of individual nightmares. Each attack brought sparks of magic and flashes of light. And each attack seemed to take something out of the child that had summoned the magic.

Her left eye flickered and faded back to its usual stormy gray. The pupil was dilated and unfocused. Her right hand began to twitch at her side, and sweat ran down her freckled forehead to drip off the end of her nose.

“Uh, Sach,” Alexander said, still unwilling to look away from her. “I don’t know what she’s doing, but she’s not going to be doing it much longer.”

Sachihiro must have turned and seen what Alexander had, for his cheery demeanor shifted and he cursed. “What do we do?”

Alexander didn’t have an answer, but a voice sounded from the balcony. “I’d stop moping about for one, and move your asses.”

Alexander shifted his gaze at that, turning to see Tannyl standing atop the stone railing, hands on his hips as if he’d been waiting there for days. A long wooden plank jutted out from beneath one of his feet and disappeared to the right. Alexander felt his heart begin to beat again as he stood and took new stock of the situation. The crafty elf had bridged the gap between their balcony and the next.

Sachihiro ran to the elf, surveyed the bridge, and slapped a hand to his forehead. “We shoulda thought of this,” he said, leaping up to stand beside Tannyl. He dashed across the plank and vanished from view. “Just like a tightrope,” he called from the other side. “Nothing to it.”

Tannyl looked at Alexander, then at Adelaide, and then back again. “She’s magic?”

Alexander shrugged. “Guess so, but she’s fading fast. And Jaydan’s already down.”

Tannyl dropped to the balcony and lifted Jaydan over a shoulder with unexpected strength. He managed to climb back atop the railing with little effort.

“Well, grab her and let’s move.” He was gone across the gap before Alexander could react.

Alexander turned back to Adelaide and saw the barrier flickering erratically. Her entire body was twitching violently and both eyes were rolled up in her head. Saliva ran from open lips and a sheet of sweat covered her entire body, sticking her ashen dress to her skinny frame.

“Hold on, Addy,” he said as he put a shoulder into her ribs, tossed her over his back, and vaulted for the balcony.

The magical light vanished as soon as he touched her, and he knew without looking that the creatures had noticed as well. Adelaide was light enough, but any weight over a single shoulder made balancing a precarious action. Pure desperation launched him atop the railing and propelled him into the middle of the narrow plank, but then it sagged under his weight and his mind faltered just as his body did. He leaned back the other way, at once knowing it was too much. Regaining his balance while still holding onto Adelaide was impossible now. In the moment between flashes of lightning, he came up with just one idea, and dove.

Headfirst, he propelled his body toward the neighboring balcony. He wasn’t certain whether he would land atop the plank or empty air, so he did the only other thing he could think of: He tossed Adelaide to safety. Which was good, he realized as only half his body struck the plank. It shifted away from him on impact and at once he was falling.

At least I saved her
, he thought.

Chapter Twenty-Three

HE HIT SOMETHING solid and felt dozens of bones break at once. The air vanished from his lungs and Alexander knew he wouldn’t be able to get it back. It hurt too much to try. It hurt too much to think. So he lay there, still as death, listening to his own heart struggle against the pain. His vision clouded, blurred, and shifted. Colors came and went. His thoughts turned to vapor. For a moment, he forgot who he was. All he knew was the pain. Everything was cold.