Reign (Land of the Elementals Book 4), page 36
The last elf was right on top of her, his face twisted in anger and pain. His hood had been blasted away and blood matted the side of his face. One of his ears was missing, and his right arm was a mangled mess. He slammed into Karria, bearing her to the ground and driving the gleaming dagger he had clutched in his hand toward her heart.
Karria let out a yelp as she fell, throwing both arms between her and the assassin. The air left her lungs once again as she hit the ground, the elf’s weight bearing down on her. She grunted as he shoved, his snarling face inches from her own. He must have been partially caught in the blast, which was why he was now visible, but it hadn’t been direct enough to take him out of the fight completely.
Karria could feel her arms trembling as the elf continued to bear down. He weighed more than her, and exhausted as she was, she simply didn’t have the strength to throw him off. As the dagger inched closer and closer to her chest, she could feel her arms threatening to give way. The elf’s snarl changed to a look of triumph as the tip of the dagger brushed against her sodden and blood-soaked shirt.
Then, suddenly, the elf was wrenched backward. He only had time for a single, horrified scream before Prudence ripped him in half, her powerful, furred arm flexing as she separated the elf at the waist, tossing his corpse to either side. The elf still lived for a few seconds more and had the distinct pleasure of seeing his lower half over ten feet away before Hord brought his hammer down on his head, splattering it everywhere.
“Thanks for that,” Karria wheezed as Prudence rapidly shrank, holding a hand out to help her up.
“You did most of the work, my lady,” Prudence said. “We only came in for the cleanup.”
“Well, looks like you all managed fine without me.”
Everyone turned as Arbor came hobbling up to them, leaning on Kya. He looked just about as bad as Karria felt. He was covered in blood, with one of his arms hanging at his side.
“We’re not done yet,” Kya said, her face pale. “There are still more assassins about.”
Karria sighed at the same time as her brother.
Of course there were.
54
Arbor stared down at the series of shrouds covering those who had lost their lives. Twenty-one.
That was how many of their commanders, captains, and lieutenants were killed before the assassins were subdued. Among the dead were those Arbor hadn’t known all that well, as well as one whom he did.
Shukle stood over the body of his brother, the shroud for Grab being the largest of all. The gremlin had been killed on a pure fluke. As assassin’s dagger had gone straight into his arm, penetrating the area where his Origin was located and killing him instantly. There was nothing any of them could have done.
The moment the Magekiller poison had entered Grab’s Origin, he had died. At least it had been quick and painless, though that would hardly be a worthy consolation to those who would miss him most, namely Frunk and Shukle.
Grak stood next to him, her head bowed as she stared down at the covered body. Her left arm was covered in bandages. It would never be the same again after what she’d done last night, and not even Arbor could do anything about it. He had tried, of course, but there was no restoring the arm, even with his Origin magic.
The nerves were dead, the bones turned to ice, and the muscles blackened and shriveled. Everything from two inches above the wrist would need to be amputated, and soon. The enemy had exacted a heavy toll on them last night, and it would have been far worse if not for the Elementals in their ranks.
While they hadn’t exactly been able to see the assassins, they had been able to sense their presence and rooted them out. The assassins had been killed down to a man, but they had done what they had come to do. Arbor and his army were now down commanders. Additionally, some elven soldiers had managed to circumvent the third wall and were mere hours away, leaving them with only two choices. They would either have to skip the funerals and march on, or stay and fight, potentially weakening their forces even further.
They were demoralized and downtrodden, and of course, it was also raining.
“Well, this sucks,” Karria said, breaking the silence.
Her voice was still a bit off, her face containing hints of black and blue around the nose, where it had been set and healed. Arbor had been exhausted, rushing about to the aid of the soldiers he could save. The best he’d been able to do for some was get them out of critical condition, so everyone – himself included – was still sporting injuries.
“Well, that’s putting it mildly,” Hord said, his voice way too loud as usual.
“We need to move on,” Shukle said, straightening from the shroud covering his brother. “We will take the bodies with us and give them proper burials once we get back home.”
Arbor could see the pain in his eyes, the rage that warred against the soldier in him. Gremlins were people, just like everyone else. They loved, they lost, they hated and felt joy. And right now, they were feeling pain.
“Are you fit to command?” Arbor asked.
He hated to ask the question but knew that it needed to be asked. He was about to lead his forces into the largest and most dangerous battle yet, one that would likely decide the fate of Laedrin. Stopping Demons from entering this plane of existence was their sole purpose in being here, with freeing the elven homeland as a secondary goal.
If Shukle were unstable, he could end up making poor judgments and make a costly mistake.
“I’m a soldier,” Shukle said. “We march onward.”
His voice was hard and his resolve firm. He was inside Arbor’s Perception Field, so he couldn’t lie without Arbor being able to see it. He was as solid as an oak tree. In other words, he was thinking clearly, despite the anger.
“Very well,” Arbor said, inclining his head.
“You should probably say something,” Kya said in an undertone. “They want to hear you speak, to tell them that everything will be okay.”
Arbor hated giving speeches. But, in times like these, being a leader meant having to do what he didn’t want to. Besides, encouraging those who’d followed him into the jaws of death was the least he could do, especially to honor those who had passed.
He straightened, looking out to all of the gathered faces. Most were the red of the gremlins, but there were others. White, tan, a few dark showed the presence of humans, and the small group of multicolored Elementals stood out like a beacon. No dwarves were present, as they were still making their way through the forest.
Arbor had no idea if they were still en route or if they had met with misfortune. All he could do was hope to see them when they reached Srila.
“Last night, we lost many of our comrades,” Arbor said, his voice ringing out in the silence, interrupted only by the sound of pattering rain. “They fought bravely, despite the cowardly actions of the elven assassins sent by those who consort with Demons. We march on. Not to stop some great evil or for revenge. No. We march on to honor the lost. Those who died to ensure that others may live free, just as you now do.
“We march to free those who have been oppressed. So that they might raise their children without the fear of tyrants darkening their every day. Today, we honor the lost and carry on their cause!”
Arbor raised his glaive high in the air and unleashed a blast of spiraling black and white into the sky, then slammed the glaive back into the ground. The earth cracked and split, then a tower of vines twisted up into the sky. Arbor continued pouring his magic into it, the vines condensing and widening, growing taller and taller until a towering trunk made of vines stood some thirty feet tall, towering above the Goldenleaf trees.
Arbor then stepped up to Shukle and handed him a knife. He continued speaking in a carrying voice so that everyone could hear.
“Carve the names of your lost into this tree, so that those who pass this way will see them immortalized for years to come. Know that they live on, so long as this tree remains where it is.”
Shukle looked as though he were going to cry as he slammed his fist into his chest in a salute. Then, with trembling hands, he took the dagger and walked past Arbor to carve his brother’s name into one of the vines.
Arbor stood aside, motioning to those in the crowd to come and do the same. That little bit of magic had exhausted him mentally and he was barely able to stand after that, but he used his glaive to keep himself propped up and waited for everyone to get their turn.
It was nearly an hour before the last of the gremlins had finished, and Arbor knew that before this was all over, another tree just like this one would be placed in Srila. He just hoped for all their sakes that the names gracing its vines wouldn’t number in the thousands.
“It meant a lot to them, just so you know,” Kya said as Prudence helped Arbor relax into his bed. “No matter how exhausted you are, what you just did will make a huge difference in the battle ahead.”
His butler, Karria, Kya, Grak, and Hord had all entered the coach along with him as the army had begun its final march to Srila. Ramona had opted to remain with the troops, and Shukle didn’t feel up to company right now, choosing to ride with the body of his brother. Shelderoth, likewise, had chosen to remain with the Elementals on their final approach.
“That’s good to know,” Arbor groaned.
The extent of his tiredness truly showed when he didn’t even protest as Prudence began fussing over him, toweling his hair dry and propping him up to help him out of his sodden shirt.
“You can all go now,” he said, waving them off. “I’ll be fine after I get some rest.”
“Just let me know if you need anything,” Karria said, placing a hand on his arm, then moving to follow the others out.
Arbor watched them go as the door shut, leaving him alone with Prudence.
“Today is a difficult day, my lord,” Prudence said, helping him pull the shirt over his head.
“And it’s barely even begun,” Arbor sighed.
Prudence pushed him to lean forward, then began running the dry towel over his back.
“The burden of leadership can be a difficult one at times.”
“At times?” Arbor asked with a snort.
“Yes,” Prudence said, not at all perturbed by his tone. “At times.”
Arbor blew out a long breath, then leaned back against the pillows as she continued toweling him off. The only sounds for the next few moments were those of the towel and the shifting of cloth as Prudence worked.
“Does it get any easier?” Arbor finally asked.
He sounded so tired. He felt it as well, a bone-deep weariness that he hadn’t felt before. It was as if the weight of the entire world were sitting on his shoulders and he could no longer hold it up.
“Sometimes,” Prudence replied. “There is a reason why a lot of nobles are terrible, and that is because they cannot handle the responsibility. So, instead, they pass all of that onto others and fill their days with relaxation and leisure.”
“But isn’t that what I’m doing? By passing responsibilities onto others in my employ?”
“You know it’s not the same,” Prudence admonished. “While those nobles shirk their duty, you merely pass the tasks that you are not suited for or believe can be better performed by someone else on to those more qualified. You do so to give yourself more time to rule, not less.”
Prudence stood back, folding the towel over her arm.
“You are rare among the nobility, my lord,” she said, making sure to meet his eyes. “Everyone who meets you can see it. Although you weren’t born into the position, you are the epitome of what proper nobility should aspire to be, and I am honored to serve you.”
Arbor felt an unexpected flood of warmth at that, but before he could say anything, Prudence continued.
“Now, you need some rest. Would you like me to help you out of the rest of your sodden clothes, or would you prefer to do so yourself while I change the sheets?”
“I think I can manage myself, thanks,” Arbor said, taking the towel with a half-smile. “Though I could use some help getting over to the other room.”
Prudence bowed, then helped him as requested, half-carrying him into the small bathroom at the back. After helping him sit, she gently closed the door behind him, giving him the privacy to change on his own.
Arbor saw a set of pajamas sitting right next to him and felt another smile curl his lips. Prudence was really getting to know him by now.
Changing took longer than he’d have liked, but by the time he was done and pushed the door open, his bed had been remade and looked as comfortable and inviting as ever. They’d begun to move at some point, but with Prudence’s help, he was able to make it into the bed.
“Just call if you need anything, my lord,” she said as she turned down the lantern, plunging the room into darkness.
Arbor could hear the patter of rain on the roof above as he closed his eyes, and this time, he found that he really didn’t mind.
In fact, it was quite relaxing.
55
Zir stood before the massive portal, the towering monstrosity standing some thirty feet at its highest point. In essence, this thing was a giant arch, constructed with the proportions of Demons in mind. Long metallic wires stretched beneath his feet, tangled in large bunches. Someone had once tried to keep them neat and organized, but any semblance of order was long gone from this place.
Off to one side, a team of elves stood huddled around a large metal box, all fiddling with much smaller and delicate wires, trying to fine-tune this gigantic heap of metal and make it work.
He’d received the reports of his assassins’ work a couple of days back, and although it hadn’t been nearly as successful as he’d hoped, it had given him a little extra time. Now, he was scrambling to try and get this thing open before the enemy arrived.
“Have you been following my instructions?”
Zir turned to see the Infiltrator still parading around in Nina’s body swaying her way into the underground chamber.
Those working on the panel, both male and female, turned to watch her approach. The males were obviously more adoring, but the women watched with far more interest than they should, especially considering that some of them were married to men.
“Obviously,” Zir said, his cold voice breaking Nina’s spell and sending the elves scurrying back to their work.
“You’re no fun, you know that?” Nina said with a pout.
“This is war. It isn’t meant to be fun,” Zir said testily. “Tell me why this isn’t working.”
Nina, finally giving up on her seductress act, stepped up beside him and craned her neck back. There were several nodes that had been placed in intervals along the arch which had not been there before. They were constructed according to Nina’s specifications but needed a lot of delicate adjusting.
That had all been done, though, and the portal still wasn’t working.
“The nodes aren’t spaced evenly,” she finally said.
“What do you mean?” Zir asked, looking up as well. “They look fine.”
“You’re trying to punch through different dimensions,” Nina said. “Fine isn’t good enough. It needs to be perfect.”
“That’s impossible,” Zir said. “We can’t perfectly space each and every node. That would take weeks!”
There was some commotion from the entrance, and a moment later, a human soldier dressed in black armor came striding in. He had a confident sneer on his face, which told everyone nearby what he thought of them. Normally, Zir might have killed this arrogant bastard, but seeing as he was in charge of his military, he refrained. For now, anyway.
“What is it, Blackheart?” Zir asked in an annoyed voice.
The man stared at him, amusement and scorn dancing in his eyes, before going into a sweeping bow.
“The enemy has been spotted by our lookouts. Just thought I should tell you…your grace,” he said, adding it as an afterthought.
Zir felt his anger boil, but at the same time, felt his blood run cold. The enemy was here earlier than expected, and if these nodes needed to be perfectly aligned to work, his plan might be in trouble.
“Get the soldiers into formation and activate the defenses,” Zir said. “Prepare to fend off the enemy.”
“As you command, your grace,” Blackheart said, still with that mocking smile.
He turned and lazily began striding away, leaving a seething Zir to glare after him.
“You seem awfully worried about an enemy we outnumber by more than two to one, even without reinforcements,” Nina commented.
“That’s because I’ve seen what that bastard can do,” he growled. “Sure, numbers definitely factor into a battle, but tides can shift easily and alliances can change. I hate that damned human, but I’d be a fool to take him lightly.”
His eyes flicked back to the nodes, then to the elves gathered before him. They’d stopped fiddling inside the box and were all looking to him now.
“Everyone on those nodes!” he finally snapped. “I want them all aligned perfectly. Not even a fraction of an inch off! Do you understand?”
The elves jumped, then rushed to obey, dragging tall ladders and grabbing measuring implements.
“Will it work?” he asked in a lowered tone. “Once we line them all up?”
He didn’t know why he was placing so much trust in this monster – probably because there was no other option – but it made him feel uneasy.
“But of course,” Nina said, giving him a toothy smile. “I told you that it would, didn’t I?”
“We’d best hope you’re right then,” he muttered, going back to staring at the arch as elves frantically swarmed over it.
“I am,” Nina said, with the utmost confidence. “Now, if you don’t mind, Sylvester is waiting for me and you know how cranky he gets when I’m gone for too long.”
And Zir did at that. The last time she’d left Sylvester’s side for more than an hour, he’d eviscerated four elves, ripping their stomachs open and decorating the walls of the palace with their insides. Apparently, he’d heard them talking about how pretty Nina was and hadn’t liked it. Zir had a feeling she encouraged that behavior.
