It wasn’t exactly clear what he meant, but judging by the insanity on show, the intense energy pouring from the chanting witches, and whatever the fuck that was burning her throat, she was supposed to do something magickal, if not a little odd.
The witches switched their attention to the floor, their chant louder, filled with rage and venom.
Not wanting to stick around to find out what was about to happen, Scarlen fled for the doorway that led to the sandy clifftop, the ground now shaking and cracking, unbalancing each step. Fissures appeared, swallowing the grains of golden sand, and bolts of lightning forked through the light evening sky.
Scarlen ran, jumping the crevasses until a wall of sand rose and brought her to a skidding halt, the fine particles of the barrier trickling down like sparkling rain. A loud roaring sound came from below, startling her and the king and his associates as they joined her outside.
‘They’re here,’ yelled Renwah, rejoicing, but no one else displayed such thrill.
Scanning the ground, Scarlen had no idea where to run. No way seemed safe, as serious danger was all around. She would fight, she knew how, but with what? There were no weapons around, and she had yet to meet the enemy rumbling the clifftop to assess their weak spots. Refusing to be owned by whatever was coming, she braced herself, adopted a fighting stance, and clenched her fists.
Her father was almost dancing, foolish and gullible, she thought. How had the power eaten him so? ‘Stop them,’ she yelled, trying to reach into the rational side of his mind, but to no avail, as his jig was merry, his eyes as alive as the lightning, his sense just as deadly.
She was on her own, the only sane one knowing of the threat, certain her father would have no control over such destruction. The knot in her stomach pulled tight as she told herself,I am a knight.Mostly, she didn’t believe it to be true, but if it helped her in any way take on what was coming, then she would use what she had. It would be a lot easier if she knew what that was.Oh, why me?She had to shut down the pity party immediately, as it would be of no help. She would cry later about her shitty life. Right now, someone had to save the kingdom, and according to the House of Knight book, that job was for the knights.
‘Embrace them, my dear,’ called the king, looking ready to do exactly that. ‘You are as one.’
There was no way she was being associated with wyrmocs. Now he was adding insult to injury. ‘Fuck you!’ she spat, her outburst falling on deaf ears, as the king continued to rejoice in the madness he had created.
The cracks in the ground were getting wider, the sky darkening, the brine in the air overpowered by an odour of soot and burnt metal.
Scarlen pushed back the pain of betrayal, as she couldn’t display hurt or fear, nor could she concentrate on her father any longer. It was the War Zone, and she needed to have her wits about her. She needed to survive.Just wake me from this nightmare.It was something she would say when dumped in a sandy forest by her father as a child, but no one came to help her then. Why would they now?
Within the next flash from up above, the figure of a huge brown bear leapt in front of her, his teeth bared, his growl as earth-shattering as the magick below.
Rain clouds came from nowhere, and the hiss of the sea sounded closer, thentheycame. Wingless, serpent-like dragons the colour of iron, the scent of decay, as big as a stag, a deadly saliva coating their dagger teeth.
They slithered and snaked across the sandy clifftop as others rose from the beach below, and muffled screams in the distance came from the people attending the ball, along with a shrill from the throats of the beasts.
Scarlen had her own battle cry, one she’d not heard before. Ripping up through her chest, violent and sore, a burning sensation stirred acid and bile, her stomach feeling torn in two, her heart pounding too fast, her skin itching, her body quaking with the cliff. ‘Argh!’ she yelled, clutching her throat, and to her utter amazement, a whoosh of fire shot out of her mouth. With eyes wide, she slapped a hand over her warm lips, but before she could move again, her body contorted, and the next thing she saw was the black arrow tail of a dragon that seemed to be hers.
The wyrmocs wriggled back, the deep dark sockets of their eyes locked on their enemy.
Bear turned to human and grabbed two daggers from his boots, his nostrils flaring, his peripheral vision on the large silver dragon to his side, his main focus on killing the wyrmocs before they could flee. ‘Are you trying to destroy me?’ he roared atScarlen, who cocked her head. ‘I don’t mean because you’re a dragon. You left me, Scars. Fucking upped and left.’ He banged the hilt of a dagger into his solid chest with a thump. ‘My heart can’t take it, you hear me in there?’
Overwhelmed by her own problems, she glanced down to see thick silver scales made her four legs, and big claws poked out from her feet. She wanted to scream, but only fire shot out with no aim or control. Bear had to duck, and one wyrmoc exploded on impact.
The king yelled and waved for her to stop, but Scarlen had no idea what she was doing. ‘Control them.’ He motioned at the beasts. ‘They are mine.’
Her black tail swung around, making her jump, certain it was going to whack her in the face, and as her body spun, more of the deadly creatures rose from the sand.
Renwah held both arms aloft, ordering the wyrmocs to bow to him. ‘I am your master. I brought you here before your time. Join me in taking this land.’
One of the beasts approached him, inhaling his scent, tilting its head, inquisitiveness on display.
‘Yes,’ said the king. ‘I invite you to work for me. To?—’
The wyrmoc bared its fangs and lunged at the king, biting his head clean off his neck. The king dropped at once, then turned to ash, and Scarlen roared and ran at the creature on instinct, fire spitting out in all directions.
Bear yelled his own cry as he started to fight a wyrmoc with his daggers, swinging and ducking, aiming for any sign of weakness, his growl vibrating through each flexing muscle.
Before Scarlen knew what was happening, she was human again, her frenzied state reaching for her father’s ashes as they blew in a breeze. ‘No. No,’ she cried, frantically snatching at grey dust that did nothing but fall through her fingers. She turned tothe witches for help, but they both darted inside, leaving a trail of purple smoke behind them.
Bear pinned a wyrmoc, its saliva singeing the material at his shoulder as the thing spat out, its shrill ear-splitting. He pulled back, then plunged a dagger across its throat, severing its head, and the beast exploded, leaving guts and black gunge splattered across the ground and all over Bear, who froze with a moment of disgust before having to fight another approaching.
Scarlen ran for the potion room, thinking the book might hold the answer to bring her father back, kill the wyrmocs, do something. She couldn’t think straight, her stomach was clenched, her body on fire. It was all too surreal, as though lost deep in a dream, unable to wake, unable to control what was to happen next.
Browsing through the last pages did no good, as the ink just told of the fight taking place with two knights. Perhaps if she chanted the Order the correct way, it might reverse the spell or something. She was no witch, but it was all she could think of, so clutching the leather-bound to her chest, she ran back outside.
