The Destroyer Book 2 (54 page)

The Ancient laughed. Her voice sounded like that of a singer's. I crouched on the ground a few feet away from her and her eyes had closed in mirth.

"Oh, you stupid human." She still supported the tray of food with her left arm as easily as I might hold a piece of cloth. "You are wrong on both accounts." She controlled her bell-like laughter finally and smiled at me. "You see, I do own you. Do not question that fact. But you'll be happy to know that you are not having dinner with Alatorict. Didn't I say this night would be enjoyable for you?"

"Alatorict is the man with the long silver hair?" I questioned.

"Yes. There is nothing enjoyable about him. Believe me." She smirked.

"Then--" I began to ask but I never finished. I flew off the ground like I was a bug being thrown across a field. My chest, head, my whole body felt numb and my muscles constricted. I saw Isslata take a few steps toward where I stood before she lifted off the stone tile as well. There was a sound like a piece of paper being torn in half, only it boomed so loud that every single fiber of my existence resonated with the sound.

I fell for what seemed like forever. Light turned the world white, then red, and then black. I thought about my father. Was he still alive? Was he in the castle? I had my earliest memory of visiting this castle. I must have been four or so, maybe five. Jessmei was just learning to talk and acted as my shadow for the month we stayed here. Nanos and Runir had struggled to beat me at their mock games of combat. Why weren't we children anymore?

Air came ripping into my lungs and I sat up with a gasp of shock. My whole body hurt, especially my ears and the back of my head. I reached around with my left hand and my hair was coated with thick blood. I pressed carefully on the wound. I didn't find anything broken on the skull or I probably wouldn't have ever woken from my faint.

The air filled with dust, smoke, and heat. I realized I was at the base of the stairwell that led up to the West Wing. Somehow I had been thrown off of the third floor, fallen some sixty or seventy feet, landed on my back, and lived. It was a fucking miracle. But what had happened?

I rolled over and tried to stand, but my legs didn't seem to want to work. I panicked, thinking for a brief second that I damaged my spine in the fall and would never be able to walk. Then pain from below my waist flooded my brain and I got dizzy. I coughed and it came out in a thin spray of blood that covered my hands. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of pushing, I stumbled to my feet.

Now that I swayed upright, I could see over the fog of dust covering the world. The stairs leading to the East Wing looked like they had been smashed by a hammer. All the hallways on that side of the castle had collapsed, as if under the pressure of some unseen yet massive weight. Whatever force ripped through the wing had tossed me out of the way of a certain death beneath thousands of pounds of stone.

I heard a ringing in my ears, but it was so faint that I thought it was in my head. The tone of it brought back a memory of Kaiyer. I remembered sitting in the bathtub with him and then we had--

The ringing. It was the alarm. We were under attack.

Not we. Not humans. The Ancients were under attack.

What force would attack the Ancients and rip one whole wing of the most massive castle down to rubble? Did the Ancient's even have enemies besides the O'Baarni's army?

Had Kaiyer's troops somehow found this place? How did they get here? My mind spun so fast, I got dizzy again. Suddenly there was pressure on the back of my skull and I opened my eyes to notice the cracked ceiling. I must have fainted again. Nausea clenched my stomach like a jealous child with her prized toy.

I got to my feet quicker this time and looked around for the golden-haired Ancient. I didn't see her, but I saw the scattered tray of food that I had carried. Dizziness hit me again and I started to stumble. The ringing in my head seemed to lower in volume and I reached my hands up to touch my ears. They came away bloody and I realized my ear drums were probably blown by the force that had knocked down the walls of the castle.

My body ached. I bent over on the ground and clutched my stomach. It felt like I was trying to digest glass. I coughed again and instead of the thin mist of blood, a thick splatter of red came out of my mouth and fell to the floor. I stared at it through swimming vision before the realization hit me.

I was dying.

The thought penetrated my brain and traveled through my body in a quick shock of sadness. I had felt the terror of impending death before, but not with this sickening acceptance. When I had hanged in the dungeon, death had tempted me, a welcome escape as simple as the release of falling asleep. I had wanted it, both as an escape from pain and a final, fatal fuck you to Nanos. Though the hope that I might somehow live had never left me in complete despair. In the jungles of Vanlourn, just after we had woken Kaiyer, when the Vanlourn troops had us cornered, I had accepted that we were going to die. I did not want it then, but I knew it would be mercifully quick and painless, and again, I had the little bit of hope that we could get out of it. And we did.

There was no hope now. There was nothing that could save me from internal bleeding. It didn't matter if Runir showed up suddenly to carry me out of the castle. It didn't matter if Kaiyer came back from the dead to kill all the Ancients. If I mustered the strength to stand and flee the castle, it would only change where I died, not how. No power would reverse the damage that had already been done to me. Even if my father were here, he could do no more than hold my hand and comfort me during my last few hours.

I wished my father were here.

My eyes began to water. I didn't want to die like this. Not only was I alone, but I hadn't made the impact on the world that I wanted. I had accepted that I would never conceive children, but Nia was my child, and I hadn't done everything I needed for her people.

My people.

I saw the light from a window reflect off of something on the floor a few yards from me. It interrupted my thoughts and I found myself unable to consider anything besides discovering what the shiny gleam might be. I crawled over to the object and cleared away some small, loose rubble.

It was a blade, a steak knife from the kitchen. I had probably carried it on the tray and the fall set it free to land here near me. I stared at its simple wooden handle and slightly serrated edge. I picked it up and I tested the sharpness of the blade against the flesh of my thumb. The single-sided blade wasn't as good as a dagger, but it easily parted the skin.

The weapon would probably do the trick.

I fought to my feet again and smiled, fuck self-pity. I placed one foot in front of the other until I was suddenly running down the hallway toward the North Wing, my pain forgotten and my death repressed. I had a purpose now. There was still something I could do before my life ended.

If it really was an alarm and if we really were under attack, I knew exactly where Nanos would be heading.

And I knew how to get into the Safe Room.

I jumped off my horse before we reached my tent. The massive black steed sensed my frustration and huffed in annoyance when my attendants tried to grab his reins. The roar of my army filled the air of the valley. The sound made me grit my teeth when I thought of what Iolarathe had said to me.

Why would I surrender when I was so close to victory?

My armor weighed over seventy-five pounds, but moved about me like a second skin. My body was strong, flexible, and practically indestructible. It didn't mind the weight of the thick, skull-etched metal plates, the armor's matching shield and mace, or the pain of the metal squeezing my muscles and flesh. The ground did mind, however, and I sunk into the soft grass a few inches when my booted feet slammed into it. One of my assistants, Bartu, deftly grabbed the clasp on my cloak and removed the long piece of red cloth from my armor before I stepped into the tent.

"What did she say?" Malek asked. He and Gorbanni had already ducked inside of my small pavilion. Though neither had said, or could even know her name, the mere mention of Iolarathe, by him, sent a shock through my body. She had never completely left my thoughts in the past thirty-six years, but my generals did not even know she existed. Hearing Malek say “her,” knowing he meant
her
, had seen her, left me uneasy in a way I could not explain or shake off. I concentrated on slowing my breathing and heart rate, on looking and acting as I always did. I contemplated brushing the question off and going back to the plan, but my generals were smart, and might have insight I did not. I rotated my helmet and pulled it off my head.

"She wants a treaty and my surrender--" Shlara hissed suddenly, interrupting my flowing words. Alexia and Malek also frowned. Thayer just laughed with his hands clutched to his stomach and his eyes closed in mirth. The movement accented the massive white scar that ran down his face.

"She wants us to surrender? The Elvens have gone cow-fucking-crazy!" Alexia said in a burst of humor that was unlike her.

"No. They want
me
to surrender." I felt the anger slowly fade. Iolarathe wasn't stupid, but her offer was. Perhaps I missed something? I rethought the words she spoke on the battlefield a few moments ago. I had been trying so hard to resist my feelings perhaps I had missed a key detail that would explain her illogical request.

"Ahh. So you surrender, we negotiate a treaty, then in twenty years we'll be back where we started, only without our best weapon. Fuck those bitches. Don't they see our army? We've got them outnumbered so significantly it is laughable. How could they even think we would consider a deal?" Malek grabbed a bottle of wine that I kept on my dresser and polished off the remainder.

The tent exploded into what was now familiar conversation. It was a complicated verbal dance and everyone seemed to understand their place. I wanted to sit down, take a swig of wine and forget they were here. The six of us had spent nearly our whole lives battling Elvens for our freedom. Most of the decisions we made had been made around this small, worn table. Made after discussions that were variations on the same basic conversation. Everyone had a role and a predictable argument.

Thayer would be the extremist. His ideas were almost never reasonable, but a direct path to accomplishing our goal. He would suggest attacking them directly, relying on our strength and ignoring strategy or finesse. Ignoring the possibility that we might not always easily overcome them. Gorbanni preferred to suggest superior positioning of our armies and feints that would draw the Elvens into obvious plans. Alexia’s solutions were indirect. She would suggest starving the army out or doing multiple small sorties to press and confuse the Elven generals. Malek took in all the information and painstakingly analyzed every bit until he was sure he had the one and only correct answer. Shlara made better decisions than I did. She could take all the arguments, cut through the shit, and figure out a strategy that would combine the least risk with the greatest chance of victory.

"Did she say anything else?" the beautiful brunette asked me with an eyebrow raised.

"She said a few things." I tried to brush over the details. "I made a mistake, I was angry and I didn't pay close enough attention."

"Why did you take your helmet off?" Gorbanni asked with puzzlement. The others stopped argument and turned toward me.

"She wanted to see my face," I answered.

"Why?" Shlara demanded.

"She wanted to make sure he was a man and not really a demon!" Thayer laughed again and the rest joined him.

"Too bad we know you are far more than a man," Malek said with a huge smile on his lips. Had I heard those words before today? Had Entas said them? I felt strange and stifled, as if I had been drowning and come up to breathe only to find the air was just more water. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes to dispel the unease. I forced myself to grin and glanced back at Shlara. She still looked concerned. Her brows pushed together and her bright green eyes searched my face.

"We are missing something," I said. "The demands were pathetic. Laughable. Made to enrage us. What are they trying to accomplish?"

"It doesn't matter what they are trying. They will fail. Tomorrow we will crush them." Gorbanni tossed back his sandy blonde hair and brushed his fingertips against one of the engraved rams on his armor's shoulder pauldron.

"No." I folded my arms across the demonic skulls on my chest. "We are attacking now." There was silence for a few seconds.

"It is almost nightfall." Malek winced. I had expected him to be the cautious one.

"It doesn't matter. We see better than they can at night," I said.

"We haven't placed my troops and I'm going to take the brunt of this shit storm," Thayer said with a grin. This was good news to him. If we didn't attack tonight he would have been up all night either training or fucking. He could never find calm before a battle.

"You haven't placed them yet?" I looked at Shlara with eyebrows raised.

"No. My apologies." She sighed and took a step toward the table. We had our various tokens arranged in the patterns that represented our different armies, type of troops, and rough numbers.