I took devilish pleasure in how Rhistel’s throat tightened despite the fact that he recovered almost immediately.
“Even more villainous.” Rhistel sounded delighted. “Hired killers. Who would have thought the noble Warrior Bear capable of working with them?”
The nickname rippled through the soldiers they’d brought with them. The whispers stopped, however, when a flash of light behind me lit up the corridor.
“Ha!” Rhistel barked. “Was that the first ward or the second?”
“It doesn’t matter when we’re going to break all three,” I growled. “Stand down, Rhistel. We don’t want to shed blood.”
At least, not the blood of those behind my twin. After seeing the state of our mother, I would not balk at spilling a little of his.
“We do not have the same predilections.” The king lifted a hand, and the stagnant air in the tunnel shifted. Movetowardsus.
Seconds later, I caught a whiff of bitter almonds in the air. Then the vampires’ knees buckled, and ice flew through my veins.
“Come back!” I commanded the Valkyrja, and we rushed back together, out of reach.
The magic I felt didn’t belong to the king, whose signature I was very familiar with. Rather, he had someone in that crowd moving poisoned air. Figuring they’d want the Falk sisters alive, the poison would likely put us to sleep.
“It burns the skin and eyes.” Freyia blinked rapidly to clear the poison.
I stared down the hall at the small force opposing us. None of them seemed affected.
“There must be an antidote that they took in preparation.” I called my own air magic and retaliated by pushing the poisonous air back.
Rhistel scowled. “Harder.”
The force of air coming our way pressed against my own powers. I concentrated and this time detected a few unique signatures. At least five fae were shoving their magic against mine. Together they were powerful enough that, in time, they could overpower me.
“Warders, hurry!” I twisted to see how close they were.
“I’m close!” Geiravor wheezed, the effort she was spending clear. “One more—got it!”
The light flashed.
“Vale, we need your blood,” Yrsa said.
The others cleared the way, and straining to keep my magic fighting against the press of poisoned air, I used a dagger to prick my finger, drawing blood. With one touch of red to the metal, the lock clicked. Before I moved out of the way, Yrsa was there with the keyring.
She tried one key. Two. Three. With steady hands, she moved through each one until she got to the last. The metal entered the lock. Yrsa twisted.
It didn’t work.
Magnus laughed.
My jaw tightened. He wasn’t even willing to come forward and fight. He was allowing others to do his dirty work, and would sweep in to take the credit afterwards. Then, the reason struck me.
He was frightened. Not of me, for the king knew how I fought, and with magic, he was very strong. No, the fae I’d once called father would never admit it, but I would betSkeldathat hefeared the Falk twins. They were unknowns—particularly their shadow magic. He would not take a step closer until we were unconscious.
“Move.” Thyra and my mate pushed me aside. “We have the lock.”
I resumed my place in front and motioned for Thantrel and Caelo to join. Than had small air magic. Caelo did not, but he was a knight. They would help buy us time.
Another wave of air magic swept from me, battling with the poisoned gusts. I’d successfully gained us a noteworthy buffer when a bone-deep cold rippled from behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know that Isolde and Thyra were using their combined powers to freeze and then shatter the lock.
“The whore and her sister!” Magnus’s face took on a startling shade of red, and he plowed three paces forward. “What do you say we end this now, Isolde? Thyra? If you two face me like real fae, no one else will die for this war!”
Thyra let out a condescending bark of laughter. “Like you did against our father? We know what you did, Maggy.” The king’s eyes narrowed. “Withouther, you’d never have won against my family.”
