Knight Awakened (Circle of Seven #1) (30 page)

“Needs a head,” Afina said, eying Henrik’s makeshift man. “It won’t fool them.”

“Oh ye of little faith.” Henrik propped the stuffed form against a tree trunk and unsheathed a blade. Grabbing a fistful of long weeds, he wound them around his forearm, cut them at the base, then went to work, bending them end over end. With quick hands, he wrapped twine around the bundle, stuffed the lot into the neck hole, and slammed a wide-brimmed hat on the impromptu head. “Better?”

“’Twill do.” Xavian released Afina and reached for the decoy. Silence descended, leaving naught but the night sounds as he tied their diversion to Afina’s saddle. After wrapping the reins around its wrists, he turned to Henrik. “H, arrows at the ready.”

“Aye.” Bow in hand, his friend slung a quiver full of poison-tipped arrows over his shoulder. He pulled the buckle in the center of his chest tight and said, “As soon as the gelding clears the long grass, make for the stones at the head of the trail. I’ll be on your arse.”

Xavian unsheathed one of his swords and shared a look with his friend. ’Twas strange to have him here, ready to charge into battle. Accustomed to hunting alone, he’d never imagined anyone would care enough to fight alongside him. Not until Cristobal and the others had followed. But now in the quiet moments before their flight, Xavian couldn’t decide what he liked better. Having Henrik steady at his back or Afina to protect.

“No matter what happens, stay with me.” He drilled Afina with a look and checked his knives. Looking pale but determined, she nodded. With a soundlessness born of his time in the saddle, he settled onto Mayhem’s back and held out his free hand. She took it, hers fitting like a jewel in his palm as he swung her up behind him. “Hold on tight. ’Twill be a rough ride down the cliff’s path to the beach below.”

Her cheek against his back, she locked her arms around his waist, and something close to pride struck Xavian chest-level. She was incredible. Without training, she’d faced each challenge he’d thrown at her head-on. Hell, most men couldn’t do that, but whether she knew it or not, Afina was a warrior. A lass of such fortitude she made his heart turn over.

“Ready?”

A feral light in his eyes, Henrik nodded, raised his bow, and brought it down across the gelding’s rump. With a start, the horse lurched then bolted, jumping over the long grass into the open expanse beyond. His hooves hammered the hard ground and a roar rumbled up the cliff face. The dark shadow followed, wings spread, talons unfurled. The beast hung a moment, suspended in the moonlight, then shot forward.

Already moving, Xavian stayed close to the forest’s edge and urged his warhorse into an all-out gallop. Mayhem didn’t need any prompting. Even after the long night and extra weight, his legs flew over the short grass. A blast of heat rolled into his flank, and Xavian saw a stream of orange flame from the corner of his eye.

High-pitched and heart-wrenching, a scream ripped across the plain. The dragon had roasted the decoy and now the gelding...

Sweet Christ, nay.

Brimstone combined with the smell of burning flesh. His stomach fisting up tight, Xavian tore his gaze away from the fireball. He couldn’t help the horse. He was gone. The only thing Xavian could do now was honor his sacrifice and get them to safety.

A second shadow came over the tops of the trees. Xavian swerved toward the cliff edge, racing for the trailhead as the beast came in low. Henrik crisscrossed, clearing his flank. Arrows whistled, one after the other as his friend let loose.

The blue dragon pitched and rolled, landing ten feet in front of them. Talons leaving deep furrows in the dirt, Violet Eyes sidestepped and, fangs bared, roared. The howl was unlike anything
Xavian had ever heard. Piercing in intensity, it rumbled through the air and across the ground, flattening the sweet grass until it hit them in a deafening wave. Pain streaked between his temples. Afina jerked as Mayhem reared, prancing backward on his hind legs.

With a curse, Xavian fought for control, praying Afina hung on. A death grip on his rib cage, she slid backward then recovered, butting up against him as he put his heels to Mayhem’s sides. The warhorse lunged, returning to all fours as Henrik galloped past them. Circling around, his friend unleashed arrow after arrow, aiming for the dragon’s vulnerable points: eyes, ears, and nose. The blue-scaled bastard took the volley, using his scales and teeth to deflect them.

The red dragon dove, coming at them from above. Teeth bared, Xavian wheeled Mayhem around and brought his sword up. Just as Tareek reached for Afina, his blade bit. Blood flew, an arcing bolt of black in the pale light.

Tareek shrieked and lost momentum, wobbling as he banked left. Ducking to avoid his wing, Xavian rotated his sword to sink the tip into the beast’s soft underbelly. An instant before he struck, Tareek’s back claw dipped low, catching Afina mid-swipe. Time slowed, and Xavian’s heart stopped as he felt a tug then the loss of her warmth against his back. He cursed and tried to adjust, to stop her tumble as the red dragon went down.

The beast hit the ground hard, grinding a divot in the earth. One of his claws caught in the cloak, Tareek dragged Afina with him toward the edge of the cliff. Heels digging into the broken ground, she scrambled, clawing at the clasp Xavian had secured only hours before.

Christ, he’d killed her. Had he not given her his mantle...

Anguish a living thing inside his chest he leapt from Mayhem’s back. If he could reach her in time, if only...

He roared her name as Tareek went over the edge, hauling Afina into the gorge beyond.

Freefalling to the river below, Tareek lay on his back, eyes closed and wings folded. Balanced in the center of the dragon’s chest, Afina clung to his forepaw to keep from falling. The wind tore at her hair, whipping it around her head as blood rushed in her ears. Red scales slid under her boot treads, pitching her sideways. With a gasp, she grabbed the gold chain around Tareek’s neck. The blood crystal flashed, lighting up the center of the medallion.

Her amulet pulsed in answer.

The beat throbbed against her breastbone, recognition blending with revulsion as the red mist washed in behind her eyes. Her vision narrowed and the moon went scarlet, turning the stars pink around it.

Afina pounded on the dragon’s chest. “Tareek!”

One green eye cracked open.

“Fly, dragon!”

Tareek blinked once and unfurled his wings. Air caught in the webbing, slowing their descent. His gaze locked on her, he hissed, showing teeth along with temper. Afina snarled back. Idiot dragon. What did he think? That she would faint? Curl up and cry because he growled at her? Not in this lifetime. And not while plummeting headlong to her death.

A dangerous gleam in his eyes, Tareek grinned at her. Oh, dear goddess, no. The beast had no shame. She’d just saved his life and now he was about to—

“
La revedere
, Priestess-sss.” Tareek flipped, extending his wings.

Tossed like a rotten apple, Afina hung motionless a moment: Tareek, a red streak above her, the Jiu, a ribbon of indigo below. The blood crystal’s glow faded. She reached for it, stretching hard for the gold chain. Her hand caught and held as Tareek surged skyward. She followed his ascent, jerked up like a sturgeon on a fishing line.

The amulet thumped against her breastbone as Tareek banked hard. Flung wide, Afina gritted her teeth and hung on, cursing the goddess for her absence. Mother Mary, it never failed. She was about to freefall to her death, and where was the dratted deity?

Nowhere to be found.

Arm muscles straining, Afina sailed into Tareek’s next turn. Fighting momentum, she reached up with her free hand. She needed a better grip, a secure one. Otherwise Tareek would shake her loose and laugh while he watched her fall.

The image gave her strength, and kicking her legs, she propelled herself upward. Just as her left hand grabbed hold, the dragon curled his head under and snorted. Sulfur hit her full force, singeing the inside of her nose. Her lungs seized and pressure built until pain crawled the inside of her chest. Unable to breathe, desperate to hold on, she brought her knees up and curled her body around the medallion.

The amulet’s white crystal struck the medallion’s red one. Lightning flashed, zigzagging across the night sky, striking so
close Tareek flinched. The next strike lit Afina up from the inside out. Her heartbeat slowed. Her eyelids grew heavy and her body light. Blinking, she tried to stay with it and not drift. But a chill slipped through her, relaxing her muscles, forcing its way into her mind until...

She floated carefree and boneless into a pool of clear, bright light.

Invisible hands brushed her face, cupped her hands, pulling her through a blanket of fluffy white fog. Afina blinked to clear her vision. Had she lost her grip and fallen? Was this what dead felt like?

She put one hand to her chest and felt her heartbeat...along with cold metal. She glanced down. Cheek to cheek with the medallion, the amulet hummed, opening her senses wide. Afina found Tareek on the other side of the fog. He was still flying, still trying to shake her loose. Strange. Her body was still with him, but her mind was somewhere else.

Blood stirred, rushing in her ears. Afina listened to it. Heard the magic rise. Felt the burn as she flew into another time and place.

Movement caught her attention, and she glanced down.

Beech trees stretched up toward her, leaves full and green. Pushed by a gentle breeze, the branches swayed, parting enough for her see beneath the wide canopies. She frowned. Three men lay stretched out below, cushioned by soft turf and watched by blue skies. The scene looked peaceful enough. Nothing more than tired men resting after a long day’s work.

Except...

Something was wrong.

Perhaps it was the rancid smell beneath the trees. Perhaps the stillness in the air, but somehow Afina knew their sleep was
unnatural; not their choice at all, but a forced slumber induced by...what?

Her brows drawn, she floated above, searching for the answer.

Afina tensed as her mother stepped into view. Gold winked in the sunlight, drawing her focus to the three medallions clasped in her mother’s hand. Black magic swirled around her as Ylenia strode toward the warriors lying like corpses beneath the trees. Halting at their feet, her mother raised her hands. Discs clinking together, she spread her arms wide and started to chant. The ancient language throbbed through the glade. It gathered speed until darkness came, obscuring the sun.

A bitter taste in her mouth, Afina flinched as her mother placed a medallion against each warrior’s heart. Ylenia murmured an incantation. The thick chains fused behind their necks, imprisoning each in magic, and her mother smiled. The sight made Afina’s stomach heave. How many times had she seen that satisfied smirk?

After every beating. After every humiliation. After every act of deceit.

Tears threatened, but Afina refused to let them fall. The warriors were in trouble, but there was little she could do to help them. She’d been drawn to a distant time by the medallion. Not to participate, but to watch, to bear witness to the past and her mother’s perfidy.

Red light crept from each blood crystal, staining the men and the ground around them. With a cry, they awoke, features twisted, bodies arching as bones cracked and muscle grew, transforming each into their new form. Afina clenched her teeth on a cry of dismay and watched the dragons rise—docile, subdued by her mother and black magic.

Ylenia turned to the man across the dell. “I have kept my end of the bargain. Now your promise, assassin.”

Eyes as black as the pit of hell, the man held out his hand. “The incantation needed to control them.”

“Your promise first, Halál” her mother said, holding tight to the piece of parchment. “I will not release them until I have it.”

Halál planted his boot on top of the boy at his feet. His gaze still on her mother, he raised his fist and slammed it into his captive’s temple. “You will never see or hear from him again. My word.”

Unable to stop herself, Afina’s gaze dropped to the boy. Dark lashes forming half-moons on his cheeks, blood flowing from a crescent-shaped cut delivered by the assassin’s strike. A memory stirred, and she was five years old again. Crouched behind the rose thicket, she and her brother hid from a red-haired warrior, playing hide and seek. It had been her favorite game, and as she looked at the boy Afina remembered his face, his laugh, and how well he’d thrown stink-balls from her window onto the unsuspecting guards below.

A terrible ache settled in the center of her chest. She blinked away her tears. Oh, goddess...Heny. Her brother wasn’t dead—wasn’t buried in the awful little cemetery behind the White Temple. He was across the clearing: bound, gagged, unconscious from the blow.

The funeral had been a lie. Naught but a ruse to hide her mother’s sin.

“I will hold you to it,” her mother said, giving Halál a pointed look.

The man bowed, tilting his head in reverence. “The paper.”

“They are yours, as is he.” Her gaze dropped to Heny, disgust alive in the angles of her face. The look was one Afina recognized;
one she’d been treated to time and time again. She covered her mouth with her palm, the horror of it more than she could bear as the parchment changed hands. “Use him well. Make him suffer.”

“My specialty, Priestess.”

Wrapping his hand in Heny’s tunic, Halál dragged him toward his horse. Even knowing she was powerless to stop it, Afina lost control. She screamed and reached for her brother, striking out with all the loathing she felt for her mother. The spell inside Tareek’s medallion recoiled, betraying its structure.

Afina latched on, hunting for the invisible threads. Like a spiderweb, thin bands crisscrossed inside the medallion. Black magic seethed in each connection; the evil a measure of her mother’s madness. Afina could see her signature everywhere: in the slither and slide of each knot and the hatred written into the webbing. It was more than she could take. With a roar, she unleashed her magic and clawed at the network inside the blood crystal, turning the darkness to dust.