Elven Fury (Agents of the Crown Book 4) Page 23
As he was about to climb up the slope to enact his plan, a rumble came from somewhere up the valley.
“That’s magic,” Cutter said. “I may not be able to hurl power at enemies, but I can sense it.”
“What is it?” Jev asked as the rumble grew louder, turning into a roar.
“Water. The creek isn’t going to be dry much longer.”
“Take to high ground,” Jev yelled to the soldiers.
A wall of water came into sight, roaring down the valley, tearing ancient trees from their roots as it rushed toward them. Jev feared it was too late to escape.
Zenia made it through the ancient dusty dungeon to the back wall before she faltered. The vision hadn’t showed her how to open that secret door, and she eyed old shackles and torture implements uneasily, aware that Heber and more than a dozen of his men were chasing after her.
“What now?” Rhi blurted from her side.
The ground gave a final shake and grew still. Zenia wished that was a good sign, but she doubted it was. More likely, whatever had been happening under the castle had been completed. She envisioned a magical monster rising up, tearing away the earth and the castle itself as it grabbed people and ate them.
Shaking her head, Zenia reached for her dragon tear, hoping it could open the door. It glowed blue before she touched it. A groan emanated from the old stone wall, followed by a scraping sound. A door swung slowly open.
“What the—” a man asked from the stairs leading into the dungeon.
“Just get them,” Heber barked, cutting him off.
The senior Dharrow had acquired a pistol and a mace along the way, and he charged forward, looking like he meant to use both weapons on Zenia. Often.
Rhi spun toward the horde of guards racing at them and fearlessly hefted her bo.
The dragon tear pulsed, and a wall of shimmering blue energy appeared across the dungeon. Heber and the guard running at his shoulder smacked face-first into it. They stumbled back where other men caught them. Judging by the livid expression that contorted Heber’s face, Zenia had given him another reason to loathe her.
The hidden door finished opening, and she ran through it. After they’d stopped whatever trouble was coming, she could apologize to Heber and try to explain everything.
Cobwebs clung to her face as she ran into the dark, the glow of the dragon tear the only thing lighting the way. Rhi raced after her, and shouts trailed them down the ancient passage. One of Heber’s men asked if there was a way around. Someone else said he had no idea where they were going. Neither did Zenia.
She kept her arms out, batting in front of her face and trying to knock away the dusty curtains of cobwebs. They were so thick that she almost missed seeing the rockfall blocking the passage ahead. She halted abruptly, and Rhi bumped into her.
The rocks and dirt completely filled the passage from floor to ceiling. Zenia couldn’t tell how deep it went.
“How long will your stone keep that wall up back there so they can’t follow?” Rhi asked.
“I’m not sure.” Probably until Zenia needed the dragon tear to apply its magic elsewhere.
“Because those people seem really pissed. Like they think we were the ones making that earthquake.”
Zenia shook her head and silently asked the dragon tear to make a hole through the rocks.
“Are you still going to want to marry Jev if his father horribly maims you?” Rhi asked.
Zenia sensed the dragon tear shifting its focus from the barrier in the dungeon to the rock pile ahead.
“It’s down!” someone shouted back there.
She grimaced and was relieved when rocks shifted, tumbling free. But it was too slow. They needed—
Red light flashed, and heat blasted Zenia’s face. She stumbled back, bumping into Rhi, and raised her arm, as if that would block the heat. Tremendous light and energy flooded the passage, and the rocks all around them groaned.
“That doesn’t sound good.” Rhi pulled Zenia farther back from the rocks, even though the angry shouts of Heber’s men were growing closer again.
“Marriage may be the least of my problems today,” Zenia muttered, squinting against the light.
It halted as abruptly as it had started, vanishing and leaving them in near darkness. The dragon tear still glowed softly on Zenia’s chest. Its blue light revealed that the passage ahead lay clear now. Inches of a fine dust covered the floor where the rocks had been. They’d been pulverized.
“Thank you,” Zenia whispered to the gem and jogged forward.
Dust flew up as they passed, and she sneezed repeatedly. Rhi coughed and batted at the stuff floating in the air like ash.
Zenia smelled water and mildew, the scent growing stronger as they continued on.
“I hear them!” someone blurted from behind them. “Right up there. Hurry!”
“Where could they possibly be going?” Heber snarled.
Zenia didn’t know what to think about the fact that he didn’t know about this place.
A glow came from around a bend ahead, and nerves knotted in her stomach.
An alarm rang in her mind. The dragon tear warning her of a threat. As if she didn’t know.
Rhi must have also sensed the light was more than illumination, for she raced past Zenia, leading the way around the corner with her bo raised. Zenia rushed right behind her, not wanting her friend to be crushed by some magical monster before she had time to react.
The passageway opened up into a large underground chamber with a sunken pool of water in the center, a natural reservoir. Zenia barely noticed it. She was too busy staring at the large glowing oval apparatus mounted on a walkway to one side of the pool. The shadows of humanoid figures moved about behind a shimmering opaque field framed by the oval.
People? Elves? Since Zenia had expected a golem or other monster, she was confused. Until one of the figures sprang out of the field.
A blonde female elf in green and brown warden’s clothing, a bow in one hand and a flaming sword in the other.
“Reinforcements,” Zenia blurted, realizing this wasn’t the seed of a monster germinating. It was some kind of portal. Oddly, it appeared to be a permanent structure—some old artifact?—not some fully magical creation.
Rhi rushed forward to challenge the elf. More shadowy figures moved behind the oval field. More elves preparing to come through.
“Can we destroy it?” she whispered, gripping her dragon tear and envisioning the portal exploding.
The dubious feeling that emanated from the gem was not reassuring.
“Try,” she urged it.
Before Rhi reached their new adversary, the elf flicked her sword, and some invisible force hurled Rhi backward. She landed on the edge of the walkway, almost tumbling over the side and into the pool. Her bo flew from her fingers and clattered onto the stones.
Zenia growled, willing the elf to fly backward, back into the portal. Her dragon tear attempted to obey her wishes and hurled power at the intruder. The elf staggered back a step but quickly braced herself, eyes narrowing in concentration.
Rhi scrambled to her feet, snatched up her bo, and ran forward. While the elf was distracted, she swung the long weapon. Zenia thought it would connect, but the elf whipped her sword down in a block. Not only did it halt the bo’s progress; it cleaved the weapon in half.
“Founders’ assholes,” Rhi blurted, scrambling back as the elf lunged in for a follow-up blow.
Rhi no longer had a way to block.
Zenia urged the dragon tear to send another attack, hoping their enemy was focused on Rhi now. Another wave of power struck the elf. This time, she wasn’t prepared. She was hurled into the air and splashed into the pool.
Before Zenia could feel any relief, Heber and the guards ran up behind her. She jumped to the side, putting her back to the wall and hoping they would focus on this new threat instead of her.
As the elf used some magic to levitate herself out of the water, her long blonde hair plastered to her head and a fearsome sn
arl curling her delicate lips, two more figures sprang through the portal. Two male elves. They landed in fighting crouches, magical swords in their hands, one glowing green and one blue.
Heber stopped in the mouth of the passageway, his guards crowding behind him. He swore, his gaze landing on the intruders.
“Elves!” he yelled, saying the word like a curse.
Heber and the guards rushed forward, maybe not knowing what they were getting into—had they ever fought elf wardens?
“Their swords are magic,” Zenia yelled in warning. “And so are they.”
Men fired at the elves, but invisible barriers appeared, deflecting the bullets. They ricocheted around the stone chamber, and Rhi swore as one bounced off the walkway near her. She scrambled out of the way of the men and looked at Zenia, half a bo in each hand, an uncertain expression on her face.
Zenia shook her head, not sure what encouragement she could offer.
She envisioned the barriers dropping, hoping her dragon tear had the power to force that to happen. Just as it looked like the charging humans would bounce off the elven defenses, the same way the bullets had, the shields dropped.
Heber swung his rifle like a club at one elf while two of his guards launched themselves at the other male. The female had found footing on the walkway again, and she waved her sword in the air. Ten men flew off the stone walkway and into the pool, leaving Heber and the two guards at the front by themselves.
Rhi ran in to help, raising the halves of her bo like clubs.
More shadows stirred in the light of the portal.
“We can’t let any more through or we’re all dead,” Zenia whispered, and once again envisioned her dragon tear somehow making the portal explode.
She sensed it trying, but the magic, similar to those bullets, simply bounced off.
Heber’s attempt to club one of the intruders didn’t work any better than Rhi’s had. Though he was fast for an older man, he wasn’t nearly fast enough to get through an elf’s defenses. A magical blade cut his rifle in half. Heber tried to skitter back, his eyes bulging as he got the gist of what he was dealing with. The elf pointed his sword at Heber’s chest. Heber dropped to his knees.
“You have great hatred in your mind for our people,” the elf said, his voice ringing out over the shouts of men and clashes of swords meeting rifles. “Yet you are the undeserving vermin infesting this continent—this world.”
Heber appeared to be held in a trance. Zenia wanted to help him, but she worried that more elves would leap through the portal any second.
What if you funneled energy continuously into it? she thought to her dragon tear, envisioning a stream of energy pouring into the thin rim of the portal. It looked so fragile. Was it possible that adding more and more magic might overload it somehow?
Her dragon tear seemed contemplative. She resisted the urge to yell at it in her mind, to urge it to hurry.
Heber made choking sounds, grasping his throat even though the elf wasn’t touching him. To the side, the other elf battled more traditionally with the two guards that had gotten through, blocking their sword attacks or knocking rifles aside before they could be fired. Farther up the walkway, the female elf lunged toward Rhi. In the water, Heber’s men swam toward the walkway, trying to find a place where they could reach the edge to pull themselves up.
A wave of weakness ran through Zenia, and she sensed her dragon tear attempting what she had requested. She also sensed that it would take time, if it worked at all, and that the gem was drawing upon her energy to help.
Heber’s face was turning red. The elf sneered, holding the old man with his gaze as the magic of his sword did all the work, silently holding Heber prisoner.
Nobody was paying attention to Zenia at the moment. She crept closer to the battle. Her dragon tear needed to focus on the portal, but maybe she could help.
A pistol lay on the ground. Loaded?
Zenia picked it up and fired at Heber’s assailant.
She expected the elf to anticipate the attack and create a magical barrier, but the bullet slammed into his shoulder. He stumbled back and fell into the portal, the rim now glowing cherry red, like an ingot dropped into a furnace. The top half of his body disappeared, but his legs and boots stuck out. Zenia hoped the artifact was scorching and burned him.
Heber pitched to his side, released from the sword’s magical grip and gasping for air. Zenia rushed over to help him or at least pull him out of the way of the skirmish raging beside him.
But the elf she’d shot lurched back out of the portal, his golden eyes burning with rage. He still had his sword, and he thrust the point toward Zenia. She dodged, but power crashed against her and hurled her into the wall. She struck hard enough to see stars, and pain axed her neck and spine.
A twinge of uncertainty came from her dragon tear, and it seemed to offer to switch focus, to help. But Zenia sensed that if it stopped pouring magical energy into the portal, all that had gone in so far would evaporate without having done any damage. If it kept going, there might eventually be enough energy in that compact frame that it had to burst out, and the portal would be destroyed in the process.
Keep going, she thought to the dragon tear.
The elf ignored Heber and stomped toward Zenia, one hand gripping his wounded shoulder, but magic crackling in the air around him as he walked. Zenia saw her death in his eyes. She tried to push away her pain and scramble to her feet, but some force was pressing down upon her. An invisible hand wrapped around her throat. The elf sneered.
Everyone else was down or busy battling the other elves. As the vise tightened, cutting off her air, she knew she couldn’t escape.
16
The massive wall of water crashed through the valley, tearing up trees and dislodging boulders that had rested on that land forever.
As Jev clambered to the top of the slope, water splashed him in the back and doused his hair. He slowed his sprint to make sure Cutter stayed close to him. His friend had shorter legs and didn’t run as quickly.
While they raced to high ground together, Jev kept glancing back down the slope in search of Lornysh, but his friend had disappeared. The boulder he’d crouched behind was now submerged.
A soldier caught in the flow sailed downriver, yelling and flailing ineffectively. Jev cursed himself for bringing Krox’s people out here. Why had he believed that mundane soldiers would have a chance against elven mages? All he’d been thinking about was keeping his family safe.
“There’s Lornysh.” Cutter pointed.
Their friend crouched high in the branches of a tree, not on their side of the valley but on the far side.
How had he gotten over there? And why? Had he hoped to reach the elves during the distraction caused by the water? Jev didn’t think that would work since the wardens had created that water.
“That tree’s shaking and doesn’t look stable,” Cutter added.
No, it did not. It had a wide trunk, but who knew if its roots would hold under the torrential flow?
Worse, Jev spotted an elf high up on the opposite bank with his bow drawn. He only looked to have a couple of arrows left in his quiver, but he was nocking one and staring straight at Lornysh.
Cutter drew his hammer.
“That’s not going to help.” Jev yanked out his pistol and fired. No, he tried to fire. But the powder in the bullet had gotten wet.
“You sure? It’s waterproof.” Cutter pulled back his arm and hurled his hammer, the tool imbued with magic by Master Grindmor.
Jev couldn’t believe his friend would risk losing it for such a crazy throw. He looked for the nearest soldier with a rifle.
“Shoot that elf,” he barked, though he feared it was too late.
The elf loosed his arrow toward Lornysh as Cutter’s hammer spun through the air across the flooded valley.
But Lornysh had seen the shot or sensed it coming. He hung from the tree branch with one hand and whipped his sword up with the other. He swatted the arrow out of
the air with a faint clang that traveled across the roaring water.
The elf who’d loosed the arrow shouted angrily at Lornysh and waved his bow. He didn’t see the hammer coming.
It slammed into his forehead with impossible accuracy, and Jev gaped. The elf pitched backward, his bow falling from his hands. He didn’t get up again.
Cutter dusted off his hands. “That’s how you do it.”
“I wish you had more of those,” Jev said.
“I’ll have to retrieve that one. Good thing the water’s going down.”
Lornysh sprang from his perch. He didn’t quite make it to dry ground, but he swam with powerful strokes and reached the far side. Two elves appeared on the top of the valley wall and looked down at him. Vornzylar and the elf with the green-glowing sword that sprouted vines.
“They’ll kill him,” Jev breathed.
A soldier ran up to Jev. “The lieutenant is missing, sir,” he blurted. “What do we do?”
Jev snatched the rifle from the man’s hands and shot at Vornzylar.
This time, the bullets weren’t wet, and the weapon fired with a satisfying crack. His aim was as perfect as Cutter’s had been, but the bullet bounced off some magical shield before reaching the elf.
Jev groaned. The elves didn’t even glance in his direction. They strode resolutely to the spot where Lornysh was climbing out of the water, his sword in hand.
Lornysh hadn’t been able to defeat Vornzylar alone. He would be mincemeat in the face of two foes of that caliber.
“My hammer would break that barrier they’ve got up,” Cutter said. “It’s just as magical as they are.”
“Then we’re getting it.” Jev thrust the rifle back at the soldier, spotted an axe on his belt, and grabbed it. “I’ll bring this back to you later. Keep firing at any elves you see over there if you get a chance.”
“You swimming?” Cutter asked.
Jev ran down the muddy slope with the axe in hand and launched himself into the water.
As Cutter had observed, the flow had lessened, and the water would disappear altogether soon, but a strong current still threatened to carry him down the newly flooded valley and out to sea. He jammed the axe through his belt so he could use both arms, and he kicked and paddled harder than he’d ever swum in his life. Meanwhile, he prayed to the Air Dragon that none of the elves were paying attention to him. In the water, he would be an easy target.