“I’ve never been more in awe. Or disgusted,” he added with a grimace. “Gods have mercy on whoever is stupid enough to be on the other end of your ire, because that was… ruthless.”
He was right. It was. And there wasn’t a single cell in my body that felt guilty. In fact, the primordial side of me purred in approval, like it had when Endymion had intentionally baited me to dispel—though I hadn’t known it was intentional at the time. I was like a switch that had three settings. On. Off. And neutral.On,was powerful. Mischievous. Primal ruthlessness. And by the stars I was relieved this version of me showed up—that fear hadn’t flipped the switch, cutting me off from my source.
“Well,” I said as I turned my focus to the treeline, readying myself, “if you think for a second what’s coming for us is going to show mercy, then we’re as good as Wymond’s already.”
As if summoned from my words, Lothar stepped past the treeline like a god of the underworld, hands low by his sides, palms facing us, chest puffed, and that godsdamned smirk.
Tiny flecks of shale danced along the ground as the earth beneath us vibrated. The aspen forest at Lothar’s back visibly shook. Kaelun and I shared a nervous glance, hands at the ready.
Even though I’d known what was coming for us, nothing could’ve prepared me for the sound of trees cracking as they toppled to the ground, trampled like twigs. Within seconds, dozens of the four-legged monstrosities broke ranks around Lothar as if he was a mountain and they were the raging river claiming this land as their own.
There was no time to hesitate, or worry what Kaelun would do. We had to trust each other implicitly. More importantly, we could not let ourselves be separated.
I scanned the beasts that were gaining ground at an alarming rate at Lothar’s command, my pulse doubling when I noticed a pattern. Throwing my hands in a wide arc, a towering rowof flames created a temporary blockade—because if there was one thing I’d learned from our last encounter, these fuckers hated fire.
“The ones with glowing red eyes,” I said in a rush to Kaelun, knowing every second counted. “They’re stronger, faster, and smarter than the rest. Fatal wound by decapitation only. Eyes only for the others. None of them like fire, but I don’t think it kills them.”
“Got it,” Kaelun yelled over the chaos as my fire hissed into submission—which made me acutely aware that when we’d faced the hellhounds before, they didn’t have magical help. As the smoke cleared Njal stood next to Lothar—seemingly healed.
“Damn it,” I breathed. I tucked away that information, shifting my focus to the imminent threat.
Like it had so many times before when I’d thrown, the world seemed to slow as I slid into a rhythm, releasing blade after blade after blade—wonderfully uninhibited by their endlessness.
After the first round, I only imbued them with flame, realizing that while any dagger to the eye felled them, fire was the quickest method; meaning the daggers came back to me faster.
With distance still on our side—though not for long—I targeted the ones with beady black eyes, and while the numbers weren’t in our favor, there was something to be said for never running out of ammo.
“I’m going to try something,” I said, forced to raise my voice over the wailing howls of the slain.
“I’ve got you!”
Hands empty, I tracked the half-dozen red-eyed hounds and focused in on the two that were fairly close to one another. Swallowing, I searched for the right threads of power while keeping an eye in this realm. My heart thumped with anticipation and hope and fear. I’d never done this before, but I didn’t have time for those kinds of thoughts.
“Fuck it,” I said aloud, and flicked my hands up as I snapped the threads, hoping my timing was right.
Two perfectly formed, lethally sharp stalagmites shot up fromthe ground, each one of them stabbing a beast straight through their necks, momentum slicing down their sternum and into their guts, their limp bodies drooping around the obsidian spike. Yelps rang out as other tried to dodge the new obstacles.
Adrenaline pumping, I glanced at Kaelun over my shoulder. “Can you do that too?”
“Can I make godsdamned earth spires?” he shot back incredulously. “No. No, I can’t. That’s not how this works.” He gestured back and forth between us, letting me know that bythishe meantfae.“Though, damn it… let me try something.”
I threw up another wall of flames on our flanks, giving Kaelun the precious seconds to test his theory. I released blades, felling the hounds around the one he was targeting. Risking a glance, I saw his forehead scrunched in concentration. A heartbeat later, he turned his wrist and a tiny pea-sized silver sphere shot out from his hand, skimming across the land in search of its target. I watched with bated breath as it flew true. Then, at the very last second, he flicked two fingers up, and without losing any momentum, the ball shot up, straight through the beast’s heart.
“Holy shit,” he said for the second time since this began. “Did I really just do that?”
“Yeah ya did!” I cheered, punching him in the shoulder. “Now, just to do that a few dozen times.”
He winced. “Is that all.”
“Gods willing,” I said and faced our left flank where the fire had been snuffed out again.
After that, everything was a blur of daggers, spires, and fire.
Kaelun and I were able to maintain a modicum of distance—never forced into melee—but the onslaught seemed endless.
My breaths were starting to labor, and the line kept sliding a little closer—we were losing ground.
“Kaelun,” I wheezed. “Why are there so many?”
