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Quick as roaches, they scuttled out from the brush. Four of them, and then six, then eight.
"Behind you, Sylos!" I shouted.
The pounding of hooves filled the air. There would be far more than the eight. Rogue hunters. They bore no markings to indicate who had sent them. But they were well armed and someone had provided them with horses.
Sylos leapt over the porch rail and grabbed for his bow.
"Stand back," I said to Lorelei, pushing her behind me.
But she refused to hide. "I can fight, remember...warrior princess?"
"I know you can. But not now." We were three against far too many. The odds were too great that she would get hurt. And if her dark magic took over again...
Sylos flanked their right while I took the left, aiming for the center rider, their leader. I prepared to take him out so the others would see it.
I aimed a glass arrow at his chest and drew. It struck him dead center; he collapsed, tumbling from his horse to the ground. The remaining riders hesitated, pulling back on the reigns. But these were knights, they would not be so easily deterred.
Two more came forward, one swinging a mace coated with rusted spikes. He broke from the pack, slid down from his horse, and headed for Lorelei on foot. He grabbed her arm and yanked her back. Her knee lurched up hard and slammed into his chest. Hard enough to make him to grunt in pain, but not hard enough to take him down. She ran from his grasp as he lunged for her, but she didn't see the one who caught her from behind.
Slashing at those who got in my path, I tried to reach her.
"Left!" Sylos hollered.
I threw a blade without looking, knowing it hit its mark as I fought my way to her.
She was lethal under pressure, I'd give her that much. She'd managed to claw her way free of his hold and hit two riders with one ball of fire.
Gone was the girl who cried or screamed in battle. She was a fighter now, as fierce as any other. And the dark magic she wielded to protect herself had grown strong. Too strong.
I threw another ice blade, and it glanced off the rider's collarbone, injuring him only. It would have hit its mark had I not been so focused on her. Concentrate.
"Duck!" Her warning flew at me.
"What?" I did not have time to ask again, before a stream of fire barreled directly at me. With only a breath to spare, I leapt out of the flaming path and watched as it consumed the knight who'd been behind me.
Yes, it had definitely grown too strong.
Sylos and I cut down the others, attacking and counterattacking with ease. When I'd exhausted my daggers and glass arrows, I switched to my sword, striking with deadly precision.
Lorelei broke free from another knight's grasp. As I slashed at his legs, she reeled away from him, tumbling into the path of more riders.
"Lorelei, look out!" I hollered.
It took a split second for her to look up and see black hooves coming at her. Her expression turned to raw terror. I lunged toward her. Not enough time. I knew I'd get to her too late.
Her body jackknifed to the side, rolling away from the striking hooves as they dented the ground.
I exhaled a small breath as I plunged my blade into another attacker while she scrambled away.
She's okay. She's safe.
But she tripped over a body, losing her footing in the wet mud. Her body tumbled to the ground, at the same time as the rider Sylos cut down fell from his mount. Metal shrieked against stone as the rider’s armored body slid across the rocks. The mace flew from the rider’s grip, striking Lorelei’s head with a sickening thud. She wavered a moment before her body slumped into the ravine.
I raced toward her, leaping over broken bodies to kneel at her side. She lay motionless, covered in mud and blood and ash. Her fingertips were blackened. I took hold of her hand, clutching it to my chest.
"Lorelei. Can you hear me?" I whispered the words, placing my other hand against her forehead. She would heal, I knew this, and yet seeing her this way tore my heart from me.
Sylos's amused whoops sounded behind me as he cut down another enemy. He found altogether too much pleasure in death. As I once did, he liked to remind me.
The skirmish diminished, and when Sylos had fought off the last of them, he came to my side.
His hand rested on my shoulder. "How is she?"
"She'll be fine," I said.
Please be fine.
I held my breath, waiting for her healing gifts, and mine, to take hold.
Minutes passed by like hours. Still, there was no change.
Then finally, her fingers twitched and her eyes slowly opened.
She looked at me, then at Sylos, then back at me. Her brows pulled into a frown that seemed to take all of her strength. "You're bleeding," she whispered.
I chuckled, shaking my head. Lifting her into my arms, I assured her, "I'll be fine."
"How do you know?" she murmured, her eyes sliding closed.
"Shhh. I just know." Without even assessing my injuries, I knew...because no matter what they were, or how life-threatening, I would be fine—because she would be fine.
Tilak burst through the shrub, brandishing his sword.
Just like a Dwarf to show up after the fight had been won.
He knelt by Lorelei's side and shook his head. "Must ye break everything ye touch?" he grunted at me. "She's healing. It's slow, but it's coming. I'll take her back to the cabin."
I gave a single nod, as a low groan caught my attention.
One hunter remained alive. I strode to him, placing my boot against his chest. "Who sent you?" I asked. His gaze slid to Sylos, but I pressed down harder. "Answer me."
He refused to speak.
The emptiness of Winter swept through me, encasing my emotions in ice.
With exaggerated control I lifted my foot from his chest. He crawled to his feet, staggering backwards.
"I do not wish to kill you," I said, "but if you refuse to cease your hunt, you will leave me no other choice."
I saw Sylos's brows arc, but he didn't say a word.
"I ask you again. Will you give up this hunt?"
He laughed, bitter and cruel. "I can do no such thing. Why would I? Because you wish it done? They will torture me before granting me the mercy of death if I fail. I have come here to kill you. To kill her. And I have no other choice but to carry out my orders.
"Who will torture you?" I demanded. "You are being granted one final chance," I said with cold warning.
His head tilted back, gurgling noises churning from his throat, before he coughed and spat a glob of blood-tinged phlegm. I stepped over it, toward him.
His face broke into a sick grin and he took several steps toward me. "I will not show you any mercy, as they would not show any to me," he said, reaching for his sword.
I understood it now, he wanted to die—I could see it in his face.
His eyes held mine, but even before his hand curled around the hilt, my blade pierced through his chest. He crumbled onto the ground in his own pool of crimson and turned to solid ice.
Sylos clapped his hands together slowly, stepping over the dead body already turning to ash. "Finally, my old friend has returned. The one who is not afraid of a little bloodshed, is back."
I cleaned my blade and sheathed it as waves of anger threatened to choke me.
"No," I said, my voice low and dark. "He has not."
"Listen, mate, whatever it is you're beating yourself up over, you need to let it go."
"What if I can't?" I said. "What if I don't want to? What if I want to be something different?"
His eyes narrowed. "That's a rather human desire, for someone born a Winter Court Faerie. Fey don't wish to be anything other than what they are. Do you know why? Because they know that what they are is already superior to anything else. Why would they choose different?"
I looked away, thinking of my family. The beings I'd been surrounded with my entire life. The actions I'd taken because of them. I could be more than what my past dictated. Maybe I could be both. What she saw, and what I truly was. Maybe I already was. And if that was true, it was time for the world to see it as well.
"You do like to suffer needlessly, mate," he said with a wry grin. "Personally, I prefer to make others suffer for me."
I swallowed a derisive laugh. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps I'd become a masochist. Choosing self-inflicted pain over inflicting it upon others. I'd stopped wishing for change long ago, because wishing for things one could not have was unbearable. Instead I took what I wanted. But now, what I wanted could not be taken at will. It had to be earned. Fought for. Won. And it had to be mutual. What I wanted had to want me in return.