Silence and stillness were all that awaited when the air outside of the cave split apart for the second time that night and five people stepped through the transportation portal.
Loki’s blood turned to ice in his veins at the sight that greeted him. His knees grew weak. He took two stumbling steps forward and then stopped to view the carnage in shaking silence. Two dozen acolytes of Haledon lay sprawled across the sand and grass in front of the Omega Order’s cave entrance. He knew without approaching them, that they were all dead. He knew Cruor had taken their souls.
Their weapons were as scattered as they were, some covered in blood, others broken. They’d put up a fight. A few red-robed mages lay amongst the fallen; the men that Haledon’s priests had taken down with them.
For the first time in his life, real fear gripped Loki. Not a fear for his safety or his sister’s, but fear for all of life, itself. He feared for existence. He had the horrible, bone-chilling sensation that it was about to end and that there was nothing he could do about it.
The Death Mage was too powerful.
Beside him, Maelix and the other two priests stood as motionless as he did, their unspoken thoughts echoing the terror and desperation that clenched at Loki’s heart. Grolsch stepped quietly around them all and moved out into the center of the sea-side meadow.
Loki watched the ork. He’d forgotten about the green-skinned man.
“Well, priest,” Grolsch said as his gaze slipped from body to body and then rose to meet Loki’s amber eyes. “You’ve got yourself two choices here.” He pulled his massive two-handed sword from its scabbard at his back and came to stand directly before Haledon’s champion. “You can stand there ‘n’ feel sorry for yourself and all of these people, or you can avenge their deaths. Might save your sister while your at it.”
Loki stared at the ork. And then he looked at the cave entrance several yards away. It was dark and quiet. Raven might already be dead, her cold, lifeless body laying inside that cave somewhere, crumpled and forgotten. He wondered whether Cruor’s assent to godhood had already begun. He looked away from the cave entrance to the bodies on the ground. Was this the beginning of Cruor’s reign of destruction?
He closed his eyes. If she was dead, then it was too late, and it wouldn’t matter where her body was. But Loki didn’t feel that she was dead. He would know. There would be an emptiness inside of him, and Haledon’s champion would become obsolete.
She was still alive. Cruor was powerful – horribly, terribly powerful. But he was not a god. There was still time.
Loki turned to Maelix. “We have to cast another search spell. This time, we’ll all do it together.” With the combined strength and magical energy of several of Haledon’s priests, they may be able to locate either Raven, despite her shielding, or Cruor, despite his. Either way, Loki knew the Death Mage and his sister would wind up in the same place sooner or later.
*****
“Why don’t you just kill me and take my soul?” Raven asked, her voice tight. She glanced over Cruor’s shoulder, at the suspended and motionless winged devil that hung in the air behind him. “Get it over with.”
Cruor shook his head, smiling gently. “Your soul is not mine to take, Raven,” he said. “It is yours to give.”
He turned from her then and slowly paced back to Adonides. Over his shoulder, he said, “He attacked your brother, you know. Tried to kill him.” He spoke indifferently, coolly, as if they were merely carrying on a conversation.
Raven stared at the Death Mage. Then up at Adonides. She hadn’t thought anything more could shock her, but she’d been wrong. Adonides had attacked her brother?
“However,” and he turned his bright white smile upon her once more, “apparently your brother fought him off with Haledon’s axes.” He chuckled then and tsked as he shook his head admonishingly. “The sun god is unforgivingly meddlesome. Isn’t he, Adonides?” he asked as he gazed up at the frozen devil. Cruor moved to the devil’s side and waved his hand, palm-out.
Adonides un-froze and was suddenly sailing through the air toward a target that was no longer there. He caught himself before he would have hit the ground and spun in time to land on his feet, his bright yellow eyes smoldering.
He lunged for the elven mage once again and Cruor’s gaze hardened. “I think we’ve had enough of you for one day.” He raised his hand again, said something Raven didn’t recognize, and Adonides disappeared in a flash of blue-white light.
Raven was alone with Cruor.
She stared at the space where Adonides had been. “What did you do with him?”
“I sent him home to your father. Anything I could do to him would be a slap on the wrist compared to what Malphas will dish out.”
The world blurred around Raven. This was all too much. And now she was alone with the man who wanted her dead. She thought of the ring on her finger, the men in the street in Hedgeport, and the magic she was supposed to possess inside of her. She tried to summon it, reaching down within herself with searching fingers. But she felt empty.
Killing those men had drained her, despite the ring – in fact, perhaps the ring had made it worse. And she had yet to feed. Desperation raked at her nerve endings, setting off a low grade trembling in her body. She thought fast.
“I don’t know what you are talking about as far as my soul is concerned, Cruor. But I will never give it to you. Not willingly.” She talked as slowly as she could, hoping to buy herself enough time to think of something. Or for someone to happen by and save her.
Again.
“Never is a long time, Raven,” Cruor told her. Then his smile turned cruel and his blue eyes darkened. “And by the by,” he said, “that’s how long you’d have to wait for someone to happen by and save you.”
Raven spun on her heel and ran, her hair and skirt flying out around her as she plunged headlong into the forest ahead of her. She didn’t care where she was running to, she only knew she needed to put distance between herself and Cruor.
From behind her, she heard the sound of soft laughter. It followed her through the forest, wrapped around her, and echoed off of the trees and stones.
A game, then, his voice whispered. It was there beside her, caressing her neck, running along with her, and just ahead. Run, my love.… He laughed again, a deep throaty chuckle of pure menace and unhindered evil.
She ran blindly, terror fueling the muscles in her legs and pumping the blood through her veins. She did not slow to watch where she stepped, and though she vaguely tried to duck beneath branches, she was moving too quickly to miss them entirely. She was subconsciously counting on the uncanny ability she’d always had to bypass tree roots or low-lying limbs without any effort on her part. However, this forest was different. It felt sinister. Branches scraped pitilessly at her skin as she dashed by. It was almost as if they were reaching out for her, their leaves like grasping fingers, every plant covered in thorns, every bough barbed. Tree roots that had never given her trouble before now attempted to trip her up, getting in her way, slowing her down.
Her breath came hard and fast and her heart pounded painfully inside its rib cage prison. She was bewildered by the harsh, dark landscape, horrified by what followed closely behind. All she could see was death. In her mind’s eye, she saw the snow-filled landscape that had once been the Terran realm; devoid of life.
All she could hear were Cruor’s whispers as his voice followed her, his presence dogging her steps. You can’t escape me.… I’m right behind you.… Just ahead of you.… Watching you… He did not let up, his words were relentless, his power inescapable. He was making it impossible for her to concentrate. She could think of nothing that would save her; she could come up with no brilliant plan.
Raven rushed forward, unseeing, and slammed full-force into what felt like a metal wall. She stumbled back, dizzy from the impact, and staggered into a tree trunk . Her vision cleared to reveal an elven man in a sapphire blue tunic, a black leather vest and black leather breeches. She recognized the spell he was shielding himself with; it was the same one that had bruised her elbow when Cruor had first lifted her onto his horse several days ago.
Somewhere in her fevered consciousness, Raven remembered Drake telling her about the blue robes, Gray Beard’s minions. This must be one of them. The blue tunic marked him as an elven mage. He was working for Cruor.
She turned to run once more but cried out as a root suddenly wrapped completely around her ankle, yanking her to a quick halt. She fell forward into a bed of soft, fallen leaves. The dense ground covering cushioned her impact, but she barely noticed. She quickly looked back to see that the tree root was unwinding from her leg, moving of its own accord, animated and very much alive.
Her eyes grew wide as more terror gripped her heart.
“Killian Wood is elven territory,” said the blue robe. “This forest has been tended by our kind for thousands of years.”
Raven scrambled hastily to her feet, and as she did, her long hair fell before her eyes. When she shoved it back out of her face, she looked up to see Cruor leaning easily against a tall tree. The first blue robe was gone and she was once more alone with the Death Mage.
Raven backed up as far as she could and found herself flush with a hard tree trunk.
Cruor came to stand directly in front of her. Raven flinched when he reached out for her and hastily slapped his hand away.
The tendriled branches that had knocked her down slithered out from the underbrush, rushed up the tree’s trunk, and wrapped themselves around Raven’s arms. She barely had time to cry out in surprise before they slipped over her wrists and pulled her down along the tree’s trunk until she was seated at its base. She tried with all of her strength to break them but they were unnaturally strong. She focused on freezing them, but just as they began to ice over, Cruor placed his hand upon the tree’s trunk and shook his head. The ice receded and the tendrils tightened in vengeful reprisal.
“Now, now,” he admonished. “Be nice.”
Raven wondered whether he was speaking to her or the tree.
Once more, Cruor slowly reached up and, this time undeterred, he pulled a stray leaf from Raven’s long, tangled hair. He twirled the leaf between his fingers and let it drop.
Raven glared at him. “What’s the point in all of this? I already told you I would never give you my soul. You’re wasting your time,” she spat. “Either kill me or let me go.”
Cruor remained where he was kneeling before her and watched her intently as she struggled uselessly against the painfully tight grip of the branches.
She finally gave up then, fear and exhaustion seeping into her muscles, draining them of precious strength. She really needed blood – and she highly doubted that Cruor felt like sharing his. She felt like an idiot for not simply eating meat during her meal with Adonides. But what was done was done.
Cruor said nothing more for the longest time. And then he sighed heavily. Slowly, he rose, never taking his eyes off of her. “The fact of the matter is Raven, I can not take your soul without your permission. It is the one soul I need to attain that which I’ve strived for. And it is the one soul I can not steal.” He turned from her then and she laid her head back against the tree that held her captive.
“Therefore, I’m prepared to offer you a covenant of sorts.” He moved to the large tree that he’d been leaning on previously, and ran his hand along its bark. He seemed to be thinking several things at once. Almost distractedly, he continued. “If you give me your soul, I will spare your brother’s life. When the others die, he shall live.” He turned slowly to face her. “He and whatever petty human he feels he loves. They’ll live to raise a family, grow old together,” he paused, his expression at once appearing bemused, and then he closed his eyes and continued, “all of that nonsense.” He waved his hand dismissively, turned away and began to pace through the leaf-strewn clearing.
“I know you can’t possibly care as much for any other mortal in this realm, Raven. They have brought you nothing but pain. I can feel it within you. You carry the Spring’s eldest soul. Its bodies have died many times.” Again he paused, his distant expression and sapphire eyes reflecting an emotion that Raven could not quite identify. “And in many different ways,” he finished. “You are by no means unfamiliar with the pain of slaughter. Humans can be so cruel.”
He glanced at her, and that strange distant expression vanished to be replaced with a coldness she could actually feel upon her skin. “But your brother, you love, and so for you, I will allow him to go on.”
He faced her fully now and gazed down at her with a hardness and determination she hadn’t seen before. He strode purposefully in her direction. She stiffened, instinctively pulling against the strong roots that held her fast in place. It was pointless.
He knelt before her once again and, this time, his cold blue eyes speared her to the tree behind her. “You have until midnight to decide, my love, at which time I will kill him. And every hour after that, I will kill another. A child. An innocent….” His eyes found hers and locked them in their indomitable sway. “Your parents.”
Raven’s despair in that moment was overwhelming. He was going to kill everyone anyway. But if she gave in right away, Loki would live. If she gave Cruor her soul right now, her brother would survive.
It was worth it, wasn’t it?
She opened her mouth to be done with it, but at that moment, the sky tore open and lightning crashed to the ground, rending the tree across from them in two.
Raven screamed, ducking her face reflexively as fragments of the destroyed tree went sailing. Cruor reeled back away from her, spinning as he rose to his feet. At the same time, the tree roots that had held Raven’s wrists let her go and receded into the ground. A half second later, another bolt of lightning split the night and Raven covered her ears, ducking her head a second time.
When she raised it again moments later, it was to find the elven prince and a regiment of elven soldiers standing across the clearing. Raven tried to get her feet under her. She was shaking badly, but she forced herself to stand, her eyes on the elf prince.
Astriel was dressed in leather and dark metal armor, a long sword in his hand. The soldiers behind him had drawn either sword or bow, and all were posed to fight. He watched Cruor intently, his expression one of unadulterated hatred.
Drake had told Raven that the elven prince wasn’t planning on killing her. And seeing him there now, his ice blue eyes flashing with immeasurable malice as he looked upon her captor, Raven had to admit to herself that Drake might have been telling the truth. Lord Astriel was not there to hurt her. He was there to help her.
Astriel spoke, his deep tone unmistakably furious. But his words were in a language that Raven could not understand.
Cruor’s gaze narrowed, his sapphire-blue eyes flashing, his arms out at his sides. He answered in the same melodious language. Raven held her breath. She was no linguist, but the exchange had sounded very much like a challenge to her.
In the next moment, another blast of light tore a hole through the darkness. It was accompanied by a warm gust of wind that knocked the leaves from the branches and sent the dead foliage on the ground swirling in a crackling vortex. Everyone in the clearing covered their eyes. The burst of sunlight grew stronger, blindingly bright, and then began to recede. The wind died down.
Raven moved her arm away from her face. In the wake of the light and wind stood her brother, a glowing, pulsing axe in each hand. Beside him stood Haledon’s acolytes and the green-skinned man from the clearing where Adonides had taken her from the bounty hunter.
Raven immediately lunged for her brother; she wanted to hug him, to know he was real and alive.
Cruor had her in his arms before she’d taken two steps. He grabbed her by the wrist and twisted her arm painfully behind her back, yanking her up against his chest. He brought his lips to her ear. “Remember my promise, Raven. I can kill him now rather than later,” he hissed.
She cried out as he twisted her arm up higher, using her pain to emphasize his threat.
A low growl emanated from the surrounding forest. Cruor stilled. Raven searched the shadows. Nothing moved.
“Let her go, mage.”
Raven turned her head to the sound of the voice, as did everyone else. Shadow separated from darkness, and Drake of Tanith stepped into the moonlight.
Raven felt an inexplicable rush of relief at the sight of him alive and well. The Arrow of Astaroth had not killed him. He was safe. It was as if she’d been waiting, holding some sort of breath deep down within herself, and could now release it.
Drake’s quick silver eyes flashed as if storms were brewing behind them. The bounty hunter gripped a shining, cold iron dagger tightly in one hand. The contingent of elves to his left eyed the weapon warily.
Astriel looked from Drake to the dagger in his gloved fist and smiled a slow, knowing smile.