A Crown of Ice and Fury, page 20
part #1 of A Crowns of Magic Universe Series Series
I patted Arava’s neck. “She understands that this needs to be done for our friends’ survival,” I repeated the words not only to calm my Valkyrja, but to remind Arava of our talk. She wasn’t able to speak back, but through our ever-strengthening bond, I sensed when she understood things.
Halladora respectfully came to stand at Arava’s side. The mare snorted.
I patted her ebony neck again. “She’s going to watch our backs, Arava. We want to be safe and go back to Myrr.”
The tension in the mare’s neck loosened. Like most of us, she had been enjoying the comforts of Myrr, particularly all the treats that came with being a princess’s pegasus.
“Good girl.” I twisted to wave at Halladora. “Get on.”
She joined me and made sure her arrows were ready.
“You have enough room to maneuver?” I asked.
“Just.” The Valkyrja scooted back a touch on the elongated saddle that allowed us to ride double. “If you leaned forward over her neck as you fly, it would help.”
“Got it.”
“Everyone is ready?” Thyra called out.
Forty fliers affirmed they were, and a wave of nods traveled down the line of soldiers preparing to ambush the valley.
“To the skies!” my twin shouted, and the gryphons and pegasi flew for the top of the mountains blocking our army from the giants’ sight.
I leaned over my mare’s mane as Arava surged higher, giving Halladora as much space as possible to shoot. Flanking me, Thyra had her bow tucked beneath her arm, one hand on the reins.
“There they are,” Halladora said. “Stars, they’re huge.”
The giants, most of which were gathered around massive bonfires, had to be as tall as Vale stacked six times over. The smallest among them were so large and strong looking that going up against the creature struck me as lunacy. I had to hope that the bonfires meant they’d begun settling in as night crept closer. Perhaps they would be lethargic.
“I count fifty-five,” Halladora said.
I scanned the mountainside the giants huddled closest to, searching for a crack in the rock. It took a bit of searching, but I found the opening, not large at all, but big enough for dwarves to walk through in singles or pairs. A rock I estimated to be only slightly larger than the hole in the mountain was on the ground nearby. That had likely been covering the opening, but once the dwarves moved it, they’d exposed themselves.
“Break and descend,” Lord Balik commanded.
We scattered. Luccan, Thantrel, my sister, and our Valkyrja flew with me and Dora. The other aerial company that would remain closest to us, watching our back as we watched theirs, comprised Lord Balik, Filip, Sian, Caelo, and Aleksander. Others paired off too, all of them Balik forces. With each steady beat of her wings, Arava brought us closer to the ground, confidence in her bunched-up muscles.
Knowing we’d have only seconds before we would have to focus wholly on the giants, I cast a glance behind. A long exhale gusted out of me.
Vale and Qildor had cleared the short defile and were already barreling down the valley. I spied Vidar and Sayyida close behind. Unlike in the city and surrounding flatlands, there was still snow at this elevation but nothing the horses weren’t used to.
The rest would follow. We only needed to buy them the time.
A roar cut through the quiet, and our advantage vanished as two male giants rose from where they’d been sitting around their fire and charged. Most followed, but I was relieved to see that ten hung back. Smaller giants—possibly two younglings among them.
Fates! They were fast. Much faster than their enormous size would suggest.
Arrows flew, and though I’d been warned it would happen, I could not help the disappointment that coursed through me as most of them bounced off the giants’ skin.
“Need more space!” Halladora pulled back another arrow, and I leaned flat against Arava’s neck, trying to give my Valkyrja the best shot. The archer released, but another arrow was already soaring for the same target. I gasped as it landed clean in the giant’s eye.
The giant fell, and I imagined the ground shuddered upon impact. Being so high up, I couldn’t feel the quake, but I certainly felt the spike of fear as the ten giants who had hung back roared in anger and joined the rest of their tribe.
“Dora, keep shooting!”
“On it!”
I instructed Arava to dive. To weave. To dodge. She took each command easily. Once, we came so close to a giant, within their reach before pulling back to safety. Then we did it again, and again, and again—enraging the giants yes, but also slowing them. Distracting them from the army on horseback that was filling the valley.
“Isolde!” Thyra screamed as she zipped by on Lasvin, the pegasus little more than a white blur at duskfall. “This way!”
I tracked my sister and gasped. One giant was holding someone—a dwarf wearing the colors of Dergia who was alive and thrashing in the creature’s grip.
My stomach twisted at the implication. The bonfire. The time of day. We’d interrupted dinner.
I changed course and called my magic to unleash a hailstorm, each ball the size of my fist. The hail pummeled the giant’s face and his arm dropped. His grip too.
Lasvin swept beneath in time to catch the captured dwarf. Thyra pulled the dwarf into position, making sure he was safe. It seemed like he was, but then the giant’s fist came swinging.
Halladora sent an arrow at the creature’s face, while I directed more winter magic at his body. The giant screamed as the arrow struck along with the hail, and the overly large fae stumbled backward.
“Thanks!” Thyra yelled as she flew by, the dwarf behind her still barely hanging on.
“Get him to safety!” I replied, but my sister was already on it, her pegasus soaring towards the mountains.
“The army is through the defile,” Dora announced.
Arava pulled up, up, up, until we were out of range. I took a good long look back the way we came. Many of those on horseback were already wrapping long ropes around the giants’ legs, pulling them tight, felling one large fae after another. Even as some giants tried to dodge, they also had to keep their eyes to the skies, and they couldn’t do both at once. Most of the giants escaped one trap, only to become entangled in another.
A giant fell. Two. Three. Four. With each creature hitting the frozen ground, my heart soared. A whoop of victory that sounded like it came from Thantrel resonated from below. One by one, our small army fell upon the giants and knocked them out with swift and hard blows to the temples.
“Ten down. Three likely dead,” Halladora said. “We should go that way.”
I took in the area she pointed. Five giants had separated and ripped trees from the ground. They swept the trees in front of them, keeping away the Balik soldiers on the ground.
“Let’s go.” I steered Arava that way. In seconds, Lord Balik, Filip, and Caelo closed in right alongside me. I did a double take. Caelo was covered in blood, presumably from a giant, as I couldn’t find an injury on him.
We converged on the frost giants, and Halladora, Filip, and Caelo took their shot. Filip’s arrow struck true, hitting one’s oversized pupil. The giantess fell, her great form toppling forward, threatening to crush soldiers.
“Move!” Lord Balik bellowed, and maybe because he was so concerned for his soldiers, he didn’t see the incoming attack. No one did. Not until the tallest of the giant’s trees was in the air, smacking Filip off his gryphon.
I waited for the heir to House Balik to use his wings to right himself. To fly away and out of danger. But he only continued to fall, his trajectory straight for the ground. Too fast. And from much too high up.
Tendrils ripped out of me, startling Arava as much as myself when they shot in front of us, aiming at Filip. They caught the squire seconds before he would have hit the ground. My heart thrashed in my chest as the shadows retracted, quick as a whip, only to stop right in front of me. Condemning me.
“By the stars,” Halladora breathed. She was Valkyrja but hadn’t been with us that day in the mountain tunnels. She knew Shadow Fae existed but not my secret, and she wasn’t the only one to learn it at the most inopportune time.
Lord Balik hovered, frozen in the air, his mouth agape. Though the sun was nearly set, it was not yet dark enough to hide what I had done.
“I’ll take him,” someone closer said.
Sian had joined us, and he looked at me with such reproach that it broke my heart. Swallowing the pain, I commanded the shadows to ease Filip on to his brother’s gryphon.
“Get him to safety,” I commanded.
Sian stared at me, and a thousand questions flashed across his face before he soared off with his brother.
“It’s not over.” Dora looked at me cautiously.
I inhaled deeply to steady myself once more and rejoined the fight.
Chapter 24
VALE
High above, the shadows disappeared, but the fear that struck my heart when Isolde had unleashed them remained. She’d done so to save Filip—right in front of Lord Balik, and although I was quite far away, I could see the Warden of the South’s reaction well enough.
I wished to fly to my mate. To comfort her and then go to Lord Balik and convince him the shadows were nothing to worry about. That Isolde was learning to control them.
But the battle still raged, and fresh blood spilled across the trampled snow. I needed to focus, and focus I did, weaving my destrier between the legs of giants, slicing at their tendons. I struck true once more, and the giant fell, the ground shuddering beneath his weight.
A series of whistles pierced the air. The sound wasn’t recognizable as anything our small force had devised to signal. Nor did I believe it came from a giant. Their whistles would be far louder.
Maneuvering out of the danger, I scanned the valley, hunting for the source, only to see dwarves burst out of their mountain prison. Their stocky horses’ hooves pounded the ground with vengeance as the first wave of dwarves joined the fight.
I changed course and rode to meet them, locating the king easily in the throng of dwarves, thanks to his golden-handled battle axe. When King Tholin spotted me, he held up a hand. His soldiers parted around him, around me, as we stopped to debrief.
“That darkness was Neve’s?” the king asked.
I pretended to be distracted by the dwarves streaming around us.
“I was watching, Prince Vale. I only ask as a courtesy.”
I cringed. “Yes.”
The king exhaled but nodded. “Considering what she’s doing right now, I can’t complain.”
I gaped. Far away from other battles, Isolde and Thyra were fighting together again, and this time both wielded shadows. Their tendrils wrapped tightly around the giant’s thick neck, choking it. The creature thrashed, but the shadows remained steadfast until the giant’s knees buckled, and he toppled.
“I should join her,” I said.
“As will I.”
“Out of the way!” I shouted as the king and I veered out of the river of dwarves in the direction of my mate.
We raced, side by side, through the melee. A handful of dwarves, knights of the Dergian royal house by the looks of them, joined. Giants approached, slowing us, but we were all trained warriors. We downed one, and began work on the second, then the third. However, when a fourth barreled our way, no one saw her until she extended her hand and the king flew off his horse, right into her waiting palm.
“She’s a magic user!” I pivoted to charge the giant holding King Tholin, but the light-footed giantess was already rushing from the fray for the far end of the valley.
“Summoner?” Sayyida called out.
“I think so,” I replied but didn’t dare to look back to see where they were.
Not only was this giantess a rare magic-user among her kind, she was fast, far faster than the other giants, and her long legs ate up the ground. I could not lose her in all that was going on.
Qildor, Thordur, and Sayyida pulled up to race alongside me. I caught the Prince of Dergia’s eyes, stony and hard.
“We’ll get to him in time,” I promised.
“We’d better!”
Pushing the horses to their limits, they wove through chaos until we ran alongside the female giant. Careful to keep a safe distance, I sized up the situation. The giantess was clutching the king in her fist, so I could not see him, could not make sure he was safe. We had to operate under the assumption that he was not. Ropes wouldn’t work here, not when we were all traveling so fast. No, we had to attack from above.
“Qildor and I will fly,” I shouted. “Sayyida, when the king falls, catch him.” Once the giant fell, the king would too. “Otherwise, try not to draw her attention.” The last thing we needed would be for the giantess to summon more people into her palms.
Thordur didn’t need instructions. The moment his father was free from the giant’s clutches, he’d go to his aid.
“Now, Qildor!” We shot out of the saddles, our wings lifting us high.
The giantess’s bloodshot eyes widened as we neared her face. “Monsters!”
Monsters? How rich, considering her tribe was eating other fae.
She waved her free arm in our direction but we scattered like frostflies, avoiding the hand that could take our lives. Her magic pulsed past me, narrowly missing calling me into her hand. We zigged and zagged out of her reach, until finally, I spotted an opening.
I soared closer and lanced my sword straight through her temple. Qildor’s sword struck her neck—both relatively delicate areas, if anything about giants could be considered delicate. He sliced at just the right angle, opening an artery.
The giant shrieked, and her hand opened as she fell. The King of Dergia tumbled from her grasp.
“Sayyida!” I bellowed.
She soared upward, arms extended, ready. I held my breath. Only released it when she caught the king. They were safe. They were—
A rock twice the size of me slammed into Sayyida. She let out a cry, and the pair dropped to the ground. Landed hard.
“Over there!” Qildor pointed, and I spotted the culprit.
One of the smaller giants, a youngling I thought, was hurling boulders at our forces. He’d taken down a good number too, but wouldn’t be continuing. Isolde and Thyra had already spotted him, and their tendrils were already wrapping around his neck as Astril and Freyia sliced at his tendons, immobilizing the young giant.
Somewhere else in the valley, I caught a blast of fire that lit up the dusk. Rynni’s flame for the day.
“They’ve got the stone-thrower. Care for the king and Sayyida.” I soared to the ground.
Thordur arrived with me, his face bloodless as he took in his father, splayed on the ground with an unconscious Sayyida at his side. Red spattered the snow, and it took me only seconds to figure out why.
The king’s lower leg was gone at the knee, the tear of the skin horribly uneven. Possibly done by the giant’s long, jagged fingernails while she ran.
Sayyida moaned. A good sign that she was alive. I gestured to Qildor to help her and focused on the king.
“He’ll bleed to death.” Panic fluttered across the prince’s face.
“Not if we work fast.” I hoped it was true. Many times, I’d saved soldiers in battle. None, however, had been hurt this badly.
Could such a large wound be cauterized? I did not know, but I pulled off my belt and tied it above the knee. The blood flow slowed. Not enough, though. Not nearly enough.
“Hold the wound,” I instructed. “Try to reduce the flow.”
Thordur complied clumsily. I got the sense that his brain was no longer functioning as it should. He was in shock.
I searched for the dragon-fae, but she was so far away. I was about to take my chances and soar off to get Rynni when Isolde landed mere paces away.
“Halladora, watch our backs. I have an idea,” she said as she leapt from Arava. The Valkyrja was right behind her, turning to do as her queen commanded.
I shifted, allowing my mate closer, giving her room. She pulled her sword and sliced her hand open. I blinked, confused, and then understanding dawned.
Isolde had told me once that the shadows within Sassa’s Blade had asked her bidding. Presumably, they would do whatever she asked for the price of her blood.
“Save him. Seal the wound,” she said.
The shadow figure that materialized glided over to the king and the body morphed, covering the injury, stopping the blood. I watched it all in amazement. In relief. And when no more blood dripped from the king’s leg, I placed a hand on Thordur’s shoulder.
“He’ll live. Isolde will make sure of it.”
“I will,” my mate said, her tone off.
I turned to her and that brief flash of relief that I’d felt vanished. She held the blade to her palm, but then I recalled what happened when we’d fought the orc horde. How she’d passed out.
“Can you use your shadows?” I asked. “They don’t need blood, right?”
“I can try. But mine are weaker and not as reliable yet. This kind can do much more because they’re from his magic.”
She didn’t have to tell me who he was. Long ago, King Érebo’s shadow powers had been placed in the sword. In exchange for blood, shadow figures did the bidding of his mate.
“We need Thyra to help.” I worried at how long my wife could hold out.
“It’s not taking as much as with the orcs, but it is a constant suck, and we’re far from Myrr. One of the vampires would be better, I think. They’re probably sticking close to Thyra.”
The vampires! Of course. Their blood could ease the king’s pain and injury, lessening Isolde’s need to give blood to that shadow.
“I’ll be right back.” Not wanting to waste time getting to my horse, I rose in the air.
As I scanned for Freyia or Astril, I assessed the damage done to our side. Some had fallen, but fewer than we’d guessed. Only a handful of giants remained on their feet, most of them entangled with our soldiers. It was in one such battle that I spotted the eldest Red Assassin, working with her sister to bait a giant very near where Thyra flew.
