He glanced over to the women. “Um… Brogan? Can you do us a favor? Summon the Crom.”
Eyes wide, she turned to gape at Falcyn. “Beg pardon? Are you out of your mind?”
“All the time. But strangely, this isn’t total lunacy.” Well,totalbeing the operative word. “It makes complete sense.” If one was insane.
Blaise cleared his throat. “I’m with Brogan. I think this is a profoundly bad idea.”
“Good thing I’m bad to the marrow of my bones.” Falcyn shot a fire blast at the spiraling shadows headed for them. “You might want to coo to the Crom, love… Sooner rather than later.”
Medea attempted to fight off an attacker, only to learn what he already knew.
It was an impossible task. They were too quick and noncorporeal. A bad combination in a fight.
Brogan’s voice echoed off the stone walls as a large shadow peeled itself away to approach them.
“Scream. Scream. Loud and clear.” His voice was haunting and raspy. “Anguish is the sound most dear.” He laughed. “Tell me now of every pain. Until no life here shall remain.”
“You’re a twisted bugger.” Falcyn shot a fireball at their newfriend.
The light broke through the darkness to show an ethereally handsome face. At least one side of it. The other was concealed by a black hood. With haunting eyes of gold, Lombrey stared at him. His caramel skin glistened before he faded back into the recesses of the wall.
The floor buckled again as the ground continued its rhythmic pulsing.
“Hear me, Crom, I bid you ride,” Brogan breathed. “I need you now, by my side.”
Lombrey hissed at her chant. “What are you doing?”
She didn’t respond to him. “Of darkest sin and mighty power. Let your fiercest wrath reign and shower.”
“Stop that!” Lombrey growled.
It was too late. A swirling vortex twisted in the air, sending debris all over them, and scattering the shadow warriors Lombrey had conjured.
“What is this?” Medea asked.
“The Crom rising.” Falcyn jerked his chin toward the light that spiraled in dizzying circles. A horse neighed in the distance.
Then they felt him. That heavy, rhythmic thrumming of demonic hooves. They pounded in his chest like a second heartbeat.
Until the Black Crom and his horse leapt from the portal and reared before them.
Brogan shrank back with a shriek while Blaise ran to protect her.
Falcyn smiled. “Brogan? Tell him Morgen, Narishka, and Mordred.”
Her eyes widened. “Pardon?”
“He wants the names of victims. I can’t think of any better. Or more deserving of his wrath.”
A slow smile curved her lips as she finally understood what he was asking her to do. With a tilt of her chin and a wink, she let out a small laugh.
“Master of life and silent death. I call upon you with my sacred breath. Hear these names and so pursue. Morgen, Mordred, Narishka are the ones meant for you.”
The Black Crom shot his skull whip toward Brogan so that it could open its mouth as if catching those names, and laugh at her.To them all I will ride. And never spare them my homicide.
Suddenly, Medea began to chant in a language Falcyn couldn’t identify.
As she did that, he began his own incantation. It was something he hadn’t done in a long while. Something he’d once beenrealgood at.
