Torrents (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 3) (39 page)

     I had been foolish to think this was going to be the end of it. He had done exactly what I had feared. He had made me hope, made me think I was going to get away from all of this without having to control the powers I withheld.

     The sudden crashing reality hit like a blow to my gut, and when he pressed his palm to my cheek, I could feel the anger building. My blood boiled when he pulled away, his hands falling to his sides. There was still hardly any distance between us when he motioned toward the door. “Are you ready?” he asked. I didn’t answer.

     “Go.” It was only one word, but there was nothing else he had to say. In my fury, I moved to the door. Placing my hands against the worn metal, I pushed.

     The pitch of night met my eyes, the clouds seemingly closer. A short glance to my right told me we were at the top of the castle walls. The tips of the trees barely visible at the edges of the turrets. All around us was an open roof, it was flat and about the size of the Lathmorian throne room.

     Without a glance behind me, I stepped out into the sharp wind, feeling it break through the fabric and reach my skin. If my torso wasn’t already contained by the corset, I would have gasped.

     Walking directly toward the wall surrounding the otherwise open roof, the sight of what lay before me came into view slowly. It began with the Lathmorians in the water, waiting on the outskirts of the island, a line of defense to keep the Hyven from escaping. Closer to shore, in the pounding waves, were the majority of the Lathmorians. Hundreds of blades flashed, as the water smashed into the back of their waists. Together, they formed a solid and unified group, their shifting not unlike the Hyven.

     Searching frantically, I was just able to spot Patrick’s light head and strong body beside that of Tunder and Elik. Morven stepped up beside me, his arm brushing against mine. I swallowed heavily when he placed his hands on the wall, his stance one of power and delight. He had created this.

     He turned to me and when I looked at him, he smiled.

      Then the skies opened.

In torrents the rain washed over us, plastering hair to my shoulders instantly. For a second, everything seemed to grow still, as though waiting on the edge of a precipice—a hesitation before the downfall.

     We were higher than I expected. The many staircases we had climbed didn’t seem to compare with where we were. The grounds of the castle lay far below us, pathways worn from soldiers on patrol stretched around the base of the stone. The few towers erected to the side of the flat roof were only a story above us.

     Through the rain, I scanned the grounds knowing the onslaught loomed ahead. Shuddering in the torrent, the water rushed a trail down my back. Just when everything seemed unable to hold its breath any longer, Morven arched and bellowed out a war cry. It was a guttural sound—escaping his throat like the roar of a bull—piercing through the downpour.

     Shouts echoed from far beneath us and Lathmorians called back, their stances crouched. Without further warning, the stillness shattered like shards of glass as swarms of Hyven enveloped the shores, and the Lathmorians began to run toward them.

     My heart in my throat, I wanted to cry out, to warn them. I opened my mouth.

     “Be silent,” Morven hissed and my jaw snapped shut. My anger toward him, still fuming beneath the surface, gathered strength.

     Returning to the battle at hand, I watched as the two groups collided. Blades slashed, and the cries of the fallen reached our ears, long after the soldiers met the fatal blades. I couldn’t recognize any of the shapes and I searched in complete panic, as I tried to find the warrior in the midst of the chaos.

     “Now,” he said softly, and as soon as the word left his lips, a tune built within my throat.

     Clouds began to take hold of my mind, and I felt the overwhelming sense of losing myself. The siren was smiling.

     The tune gathered, curled, balled up in strength until it broke forth from my mouth. Unfurling like a ribbon, my call fell upon them. Heads whipped toward the castle, uncertain of where the sound was coming from.

    
There’s no reason to fear
,
the words wove their way into song.
Come to me.
I beckoned, and the tune did little to break the fighting down below.

     Morven grunted and turned in my direction. “You can do better than that. I want them on their knees. Do it.”

     With each word he spoke, my thoughts left me. His commands resounded in my head over and over again. I struggled to maintain my calm, but I couldn’t fight the anger and him at the same time.

     Even as I was debating what to do—fighting against what he had said—the siren inside had taken over. She was controlling me, moving my limbs, opening my mouth, sucking in the air needed to voice the words spilling in a rush from my lips.

     Lank strips of hair fell into my eyes, as the cries from my mouth reached those beneath us. My hands guided me to lean forward over the wall and watch the effect of the song.

     The mermen at the front of the Lathmorian lines were the first to get hit. They froze in their tracks for merely a moment and then continued. The siren raged and reared back, calling forth with all the strength my body could muster. She cried toward them. The second line looked up, and forgetting where they were, remained still. Hyven came at them from all different directions, and I smiled. It was all too easy.

     The Hyven scattered, the Lathmorians lying upon the ground.

   
Come to me,
I shifted my head like a snake, tempting others into my trap, my eyes roving over the chaos beneath.

     I wanted them in my midst. If they were here, then they would suffer at my feet, falling to the ground in crippling fear, as I tormented their minds with their own worries.

     Singling out a group of Lathmorians near the edge of the trees, I concentrated my voice in their direction.

    
What are you afraid of?
I repeated the same phrase a few times, watching them as they moved from the offensive to the defensive. The Hyven were surging beneath my voice, attacking harder where my song was stronger.

    The Lathmorians were backing in their paces, struggling for breath in the midst of an onslaught. Through the downpour, their desperation was evident. Other Lathmorians were yelling to one another, trying to cut through the battle, to help the small band trapped by the trees, but it was all to no avail.

    
You’re alone in your fight…you’re all alone…no one will help. You’re alone.

    
The siren cried, reaching heights with my voice which I hadn’t known possible. The group of Lathmorians cringed and the blades of the Hyven cut them down.

     There was nothing left by the time more soldiers had fought their way through the battle to help. One glared up through the rain in my direction, and I debated pouring all my strength into him.

     My lips twitched, but my master wanted all of them to kneel before him. One soldier wasn’t worth my stopping. Before I turned away, the merman pointed up the hill and yelled to those behind him. I grimaced, as they gathered around him and surged upward. He cut down all who came near, and my voice was too late to stop him before he had broken through the last lines of the Hyven.

     He looked up in my direction, and I smiled to myself when our eyes met.

    
Look to me,
I called to him, holding his focus and he didn’t even flinch. Though more Hyven swept around the back to attack the Lathmorian soldiers, who had answered his cry, he never looked away.

      Bodies moved and fell near his feet. I held him, calling the same words to him, over and over again. I would revel in his death, taste it on my tongue. He had defied me and I meant for him to pay.

     The siren smiled again and continued to lure him in, holding his gaze. Near the edge of the castle wall, he reached out to place his hand on the stone as a Hyven soldier ran at him from behind. I could see her blades and the angle they would cut into the base of his neck. I waited for it, anticipating the moment of completion, when as the mermaid jumped, she was knocked aside; a dagger in her chest.

     My voice halted, but I recovered at the same moment a body smashed into the merman I had held entranced.

     The connection between us snapped like ice, shattering into a million pieces. I reeled backward, clinging onto the wall to maintain my balance when my legs crumpled beneath me. My fingers slipped against the stone, scuffing my nails, as I resumed my position.

     Heart hammering in my chest, my mind was clear, if only for an instant, to see the carnage before me. There on the ground with a knife in her chest was Ressa—her blades still out, as she lay dying. But it was the warrior’s brown gaze which captivated my attention. He had gathered himself up from the ground, after knocking Tunder aside.

     I had only moments before the fog would overtake me again.

    
Go!
I shouted, my voice screaming through the rain, reaching him—reaching all of them.

    “Silence,” Morven commanded. My mouth snapped shut.

     I looked back at Patrick, and his eyes shifted toward Tunder and back to me, before they landed on Morven.

     It was then his expression changed to one I had never seen before. His eyes bore into Morven. When I looked to my right, my master smiled, the thrill of the fight alive in his eyes.

     “Call to him,” he whispered. The cloud surged through me once more. I shook my head even as he spoke the final words I would have to obey. “Tell him to save you.”

     My mind screamed against it, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. There was no doubt in my mind Patrick would do whatever needed to be done to save me, but he, alone, was no match for my voice and Morven’s blades.

    
Save me, please.
The tune floated across my lips and the desperation of distinct fear, fear for him, was laced inside it.
Patrick, save me
.

     He nodded and my heart shattered. There was no turning back.

     He continued to storm against the Hyven around him, fighting his way nearer to the castle. They never came close enough to touch him, and as he stood back to back with Tunder, the Lathmorians rallied around them. Together they joined ranks, fighting off their attackers. No one broke the curved line of Lathmorians, and as more and more soldiers joined them, I realized they were holding the higher ground. The Hyven were having to slip through the mud as they attempted to take on the group of Lathmorians.

     The siren waged war within me, and I couldn’t help but be proud as I scanned over their faces and backs. These were the merfolk who had trained me, fought with me, and helped me to stay safe. Even now, they glanced in my direction and I tried to see if they were wounded, as their circle grew wider and wider by the moment. If the Hyven didn’t act soon, the battle would be lost.

     “Again,” Morven murmured beside me, and I called out to them.

     This time I beckoned for them to back off, some did, as the Hyven ran up the hill, but others were fighting my voice. I was struggling beneath the strength of the soldiers, they had gathered together in unity, their combined strength too difficult.

     “I want them finished.” My master spit in irritation.

     I strained under the weight of his command. I felt as though my skin was steaming in the rain. If it wasn’t for the water covering my body and soaking the dress until it stuck to my skin, I was certain sweat would have done the same.

     All my concentration was forced on the soldiers below me. Desperation had turned the tune shrill, and I cried out with an unmitigated desire to control them. Some fell beneath my trance, only to be cut down, but others took their place, and the strength of their resound resistance rattled me. I was losing ground, as much as the Hyven.

     Pulling back, I continued to cry out, tiring as I did. When I glanced toward Morven, I expected to see the same fear in his eyes, but he seemed unconcerned.

     He held up his hand in my direction and my voice ended. The fog cleared and I watched him lean over the edge of the castle, looking down on the complete mayhem before us.

     The Hyven were still attacking, they no longer had the upper hand, but that didn’t mean it was over. I rejoiced for the Lathmorians, too afraid to say anything.

     Gasping for air, I continued to watch Morven. He gave no more commands and only seemed to enjoy the rain as it poured off his forehead, rushing before his eyes. He was unruffled by what lay before us.

     “It’s over,” I gasped, finally catching my breath. The strains of my voice had tired me more than I realized. I leaned against the stones for support, my head hanging slightly forward. “You lost.”

     “No,” he shook his head, the water spraying in different directions.

     I would have laughed, if it wasn’t for the way he said the word. I had expected fear, desperation, something that told me he knew it was over, but he sounded as confident as ever.

     “Look again,” he pointed toward the front of the circle.

     My eyes trained over the familiar shapes. I knew them, Tunder and Elik, beside Voon and Kryssa, and so on, when it suddenly dawned on me. Over and over again, I scanned the curvature of soldiers as they fought together, and knew it was true.

     “No,” I breathed. He was gone.

     “He’s coming.” Morven whispered in my ear.

     No sooner had he spoken the words, then a shattering clang resounded behind us.

     Spinning around, my water soaked hair slapped against my neck—cold, unrelenting terror swept through me.

     Patrick stood before us, his blades at the ready, his belt of daggers empty. His eyes met mine and then shifted to Morven, filled with a hatred I could feel. It radiated off him in waves and for the first time in months, I was terrified of him.

     “Just in time,” Morven chuckled as he stepped back, leaving an open space between us.

     Heart racing, I focused on Patrick, waiting for the command that was going to rip apart everything I held dear. I would fight the fog, I had to, but there was no chance of rebelling the voice. Even now, the siren gathered in my throat, and I waited for the command to come. Instinct was taking over.

     Placing the memory of him in the forefront of my mind, I had to keep the anger from taking control. The siren could not win.

     I was no longer fighting for my life.

     I was fighting for his.