Silas?I check in, realizing it’s been too long since I’ve heard from my blood fae necromancer.
There’s no response, which makes my already pounding heart grow painful.
I hear a dragon roar again before Baelfire lands on the edge of the massive arena, a changeling that looks like me riding on his back. Even despite the dim lighting, my dragon’s golden scales gleam as he bites a ghoul in half. He swings his tail to knock over another lich before it can throw an attack at moreReformists who are pouring in through the massive entrance on the opposite side of the arena.
Si,Baelfire also says through the bond.Earth to Silas. Hello?
There’s still no reply. Panic tries to creep into my veins, but I focus on fighting. Still, I’m relieved when Crypt joins the telepathic manhunt.
Wherever you are, Crane, answer our keeper or else I’ll have no choice but to drag you by your pointed ears to her side. The survivors are safe, love, and I’ll be there any moment,he adds.
“Survivors?” Everett asks, cutting down a banshee before he peers at me curiously.
“Later,” I promise, yanking Pierce out of the dead demon and twirling it in my hand. We’re surrounded by so many shadow fiends that all of my instincts are almost painfully heightened, like pinpricks dancing over my tensed nerves as I rejoin the fight.
This battle has turned into unmitigated, gruesome chaos. Aside from the growing concern over Silas’s lack of response, I’m enjoying every minute of it as we continue to defend ourselves from countless fiends. It’s also nice that I’m no longer a fucking revenant, so no matter how into the battle I get, I don’t have to worry about losing myself berserking.
I’m also keeping an eye out for Amadeus. I spot a necromancer or two, along with liches and now and then even wraiths, but there is still no sign of Galene’s once-upon-a-time prophet.
Incoming,Baelfire warns.But don’t worry, these rotting corpses are friendly.
On cue, dozens of Silas’s Undead pour through the entryway into the arena at top speed. Instead of attacking the Reformists who are fighting for their lives, these corpse-like allies fling themselves at monsters, banshees, liches, demons, and otherNether creatures. I catch the barest glimpse of several ghosts clapping nearby before they pass through me, becoming tangible and joining the mounting battle once again.
A second later, I’m beyond relieved to see my blood fae appear, strolling through the midst of the living dead. His intense red gaze scans the slaughter until it lands on me. But just as I step in his direction, Silas lifts his blackened hands and sends a powerful blood magic spell careening toward me.
What the?—
“Fuck!”Everett shouts, tackling me out of the way just before the blood magic decimates the changeling beside us.
What the hell just happened?Baelfire barks through the bond just before I see him arch his draconic neck to set a barreling wendigo on fire.
Rolling to my feet, I break into a run toward Silas. He’s already preparing another attack, this time some kind of necromantic hex. But before I can pin him to keep him from being a danger to himself or anyone else, Crypt drops out of Limbo and twists the fae’s arms back, taking him down.
Silas doesn’t even struggle against the incubus as I reach them. A nearby demon takes advantage of our distracted struggle, and I hiss when a blade grazes my side. I kill off the annoyance quickly before crouching beside my fae.
He’s gone insane again,Everett scowls, freezing several enemies on the way to us.
Overhead, I hear another one of the Decimuses roar before an explosion goes off somewhere outside the arena. I also hear the alarming song of a harbinger distantly and hope no ally tries to kill it off—I explicitly told Brigid Decimus and the other Reformist leaders to instruct their troops not to kill harbingers to avoid their retroactively lethal swan songs.
When Silas slowly tries to aim a deadly magic spell at Crypt, I use one of the few holy magic spells I’ve mastered to block hisattack before I grip his chin and squint, trying to make out his eyes. This isn’t a changeling, which I’d already guessed thanks to how fucking powerful he is, but I see how widely blown his pupils are.
That combined with his slow movements and bizarre calm makes me swear. Those are all signs of being hypnotized by a vampire.
Bertram, I warn the others telepathically, wincing when my side that got nicked stings, warmth spreading under my black combat attire.
Godsdamn it,Crypt seethes, his remaining markings glowing.Frost?—
“I’ll snap him out of it. Go get that bastard’s head for our keeper,” Everett orders, taking over pinning Silas to the ground. Crypt vanishes, and my elemental looks at me. “I had to snap some Reformists out of a vampire’s influence on the front lines, months ago. It won’t be pretty, but?—”
A chill rolls over my spine, and I move on instinct, whirling to jam Cuttrina into the center of a necromancer that was just trying to sneak up on us. I don’t recognize this one, but he’s screeching and writhing in pain as I kick him away.
Fuck. Maven, are you bleeding?Baelfire asks telepathically, panic in his voice.
A little.
“What? Where?” Everett demands even as he begins encapsulating Silas’s chest in ice to keep his arms from moving.
I can smell it,Baelfire says quickly.Your demigoddess blood is pretty damn fragrant, and I think the fiends are catching on to it. That’s going to blow our whole changeling shtick out of the water.
