37. CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 37

DANIELLA

As soon as the thunderclap reverberated through the forest, Mythorne’s gloved hand wrapped around my neck.

He lifted me off the ground as if I were nothing but a child, and held me aloft and at a distance. Panic burst through my veins, and for a shocked moment, I could do nothing more than kick and try to scream again, which was impossible with his fingers digging into my windpipe.

Only a rasp came out as I struggled to take in air.

Then I remembered, I wasn’t helpless. I had power… the ability to make him wither like a cut flower left in the sun. Bringing my hands to his wrist, I started pushing his sleeve up, peeling away layers to expose his flesh.

His eyebrows drew together as he tried to make sense of my actions, and as I’d nearly managed to uncover his arm, he dropped me and backed away.

As my feet hit the ground, I bent my knees and went in a crouch.

“What are you?” he demanded.

“I am your reckoning,” I said and leaped in his direction.

At the same time, Larina flew up from the bush where she’d been hiding and came flying at a prodigious speed.

Moving with the kind of agility I’d only seen in Kalyll, the Unseelie King sidestepped me, easily avoiding me. But he wasn’t counting on a tiny pixie appearing out of nowhere. More yet, she was carrying a spear—the one she’d taken from Shadow the day she tried to take Kryn’s eye out for doubting her loyalty. And it seemed Larina had taken a page from the sprite’s book, attempting the same attack.

Time slowed. The whir of Larina’s wings filled my ears. The tip of her needle-like spear glinted. Mythorne’s foot settled on the ground as he finished the quick maneuver that had helped him steer clear of me.

Too late, he spotted the second attacker, and before he had time to react, Larina’s weapon embedded itself in his eye with a squish.

Mythorne growled in pain and blindly batted a hand at the air, hitting Larina and sending her sailing across the clearing. With a delicate thump, she crashed against a wide tree trunk and dropped to the ground.

“No!” I ran to her side and dropped to my knees, immediately calling healing energy to the tips of my fingers. “Larina.”

Fingers hovering over her small body, I assessed her injuries and vitals. The former were extensive, but the latter… I got nothing.

“No, no, no. Please no.”

I allowed a little bit of healing energy through my finger, just enough for someone her size. “You’ll be all right. You’ll be all right,” I repeated, even when I knew it wasn’t true, even when my skills were telling me there was nothing to be done, nothing that could repair the vast injuries her fragile body had sustained.

Tears clouded my eyes. “Why did you do that?”

Mythorne growled behind me, and I could hear his footsteps approaching. Eyes blurred by tears, I turned to face him.

He took a few steps to the right and picked up my discarded spear, already calculating his shot. I felt so numb, I didn’t react. Larina was dead, and she’d died to save me. She was my dearest friend in Elf-hame. We had grown to care for each other, and I’d imagined her by my side. I’d even daydreamed about taking her to my realm, so my family could meet her and see I was surrounded by wonderful people. But now she was gone.

The Unseelie King pulled the weapon back. Blood smeared the left side of his face and empty eye socket. His lips curled into a cruel grimace, and his remaining eye gleamed with malice.

He would impale me, and I would rest next to Larina—no better company.

My unexpected deliverance came in the shape of an arrow whizzing through the air, aimed directly at Mythorne’s chest.

Cylea!

But it couldn’t have been that easy. At least not as easy as Mythorne flicking his arm and knocking the arrow down with the spear. He twirled the weapon expertly, parrying two more arrows and avoiding injury.

There was a sound to the right. My eyes cut in that direction. Kryn stomped into the clearing, a sword in his hand and a wicked grin twisting his mouth.

And he was not the only one. Silver, Cylea, Jeondar, and Arabis—the last two looking like themselves again—came from behind the trees to form a circle around the Unseelie King.

At the sight of them, hope returned, and with it came fury and a deeper desire for revenge. He had hurt the people I cared about the most in this realm, and he would pay.

I stood, my entire body quivering with rage.

Mythorne’s face betrayed surprise only for an instant at seeing everyone there. “It seems I wasn’t as careful as I thought. You will have to tell me later how you managed to infest my lands, thus I can make sure nothing of the sort ever happens again.”

Silver reclined against a tree, looking nonchalant. “Sure. We’ll tell you—not that it’ll do you any good. But as dying wishes go, I’ve heard of worse ones.”

I imagined Mythorne was talking about torturing every little detail out of us before he killed us, but I liked Silver’s interpretation better. It was six against one, after all. We could take him. And yet, the Unseelie King appeared unbothered. Why? What advantage did he have over us?

“Lay down your weapon.” Arabis’s Susurro command cut through the clearing. I felt it like a slithering caress against my skin, and if I’d had any weapons, I was sure I would have dropped them, even if the command wasn’t directed at me.

“I’m afraid I can’t oblige.” Mythorne appeared completely oblivious to Arabis’s powerful skill.

How?!

Silver pushed away from the tree, cocking his head to one side and regarding the Unseelie King with curiosity. Moving as swiftly as the wind, Silver shot a hand forward and released a stream of frigid ice. The current enveloped Mythorne, hiding him from view for a second, then shards of ice clinked to the ground, one after the other, leaving him standing there, untouched.

“What the hell?” I muttered.

“Anyone else cares to try?” Mythorne glanced toward Jeondar. “How about you, Prince Lywynn? That is who you are. Correct?”

Jeondar didn’t need another invitation. Hands moving in a blur, he created a large ball of fire and launched it at Mythorne. Like Silver’s magic, it enveloped him, then slid to the ground, melting the ice that lay at his feet and making a puddle of water.

Mythorne laughed. “Anyone else have any magic?” He glanced sideways in my direction. “You do, don’t you? What is it then? How did you kill Runik? Is it in your hands?”

“Come here and let me show you,” I spat.

Using his teeth, he removed one of his gloves and extended a hand toward me. “You’re welcome to try.”

I took a step forward.

“Dani, no,” Arabis warned.

Halting, I glared at Mythorne. He was trying to lure me closer, probably to catch me and use me as a bargaining chip. He wasn’t worried about my power because he was… immune to magic? Was that it?

But if that was the case, why had he been so careful to stay away from me? Was he susceptible to some types of magic and not others? If he was, I doubted he would take a chance to find out which type I possessed. He didn’t intend to let me touch him. That was clear. Either way, I was going to try.

For the pain he’d inflicted on Kalyll.

For Larina.

My hands inched closer.

“My blade can cut through your flesh as well as anyone else’s,” Kryn said, then lunged forward, sword high up in the air.

Mythorne twirled with grace, retrieving his sword from the ground as he made an impossible somersault. He landed, planting his feet on the ground and meeting Kryn’s blade with his. The sound of metal against metal rang through the trees.

The others jumped in, surrounding and attacking the Unseelie King with everything they had, while I could do nothing more than stand off to the side, hoping one of them would strike a blow. But as the seconds ticked by and Mythorne blocked each attack and delivered several of his own—not at all overwhelmed as he should be—I quickly lost hope.

Jeondar ducked. Mythorne’s blade whizzed a mere inch from the top of his head. Releasing a burst of fire, Jeondar hit his attacker’s sword. The extreme heat should have melted the weapon, but it seemed the magical immunity extended to it as well.

Unexpectedly, Mythorne kicked back, slamming his foot against Silver’s stomach. With the air knocked out of him, Silver staggered and crashed against the base of a tree. I ran to the side, ready to pour healing magic into him, but he shook his head.

“No. Save your energy. Shoot him with your light,” he hissed with what little breath was left in him.

What light? My battery wasn’t charged.

Taking huge breaths, Silver clambered to his feet, ready to go back in. Mythorne was moving just as fast, showing no sign of fatigue. In fact, he appeared even stronger, and a strange red aura had started building around him, forming an outline around his body.

“What is this?!” Somebody shouted from the side, and in seconds, we were surrounded by mounted Unseelie Court guards.

Without hesitation, they jumped into the fray to aid their king. And just like that, we were the ones outnumbered. Not that Mythorne seemed to care. He was an army all unto himself.

As my friends found themselves attacked from different angles, Silver pushed me out of the way, raised his sword, and blocked an attack from a barrel-chested male. I lurched sideways, then whirled and turned to help. Our opponent held a huge ax over his head, ready to split Silver in two.

“No!” I ran and jumped onto the male’s back, taking hold of a thick braid and pulling on it. His head whipped back, and I took my chance.

Fingernails digging in, I slapped my hand on the back of his neck and drew on his life force. The giant male immediately went down on his knees, then face-planted with me on top. Silver’s blue eyes were wide as they met mine. He had never seen me use this power. In fact, few had.

My ribcage tightened as the energy I’d drawn settled.

“Well done,” Silver said as he charged into the battle, sword raised above his head and a fierce battle cry on his lips.

Glancing around at the chaos, I wondered where Kalyll was. That thunderclap, it had been Varamede. He must have attacked Kalyll, and I was sure it had served as a signal to Mythorne, an agreed-upon indicator that we were impostors.

I wanted to tear through the forest to find him, but I had to trust that he could take care of himself. Besides, I was needed here, and I shouldn’t lose sight of our goal.

The Unseelie King.

I quickly tracked him in the melee. He was fighting Kryn, whose tremendous skill with the sword made him look like a child playing chess against the Grand Master. My chest felt tight, but I was still ready to siphon every last bit of his energy until Mythorne was nothing but an empty shell. And if that didn’t work… then I would unleash my light and let him have it in a single blow. If I could deliver a blast straight to his head or heart, his immunity might not matter. I could only hope because I had to try something. I couldn’t just watch while the others fought.

Ducking past Silver’s opponent, I rushed in Mythorne’s direction, my fingers flexing as if hungry for more. A guard stepped in front of me, teeth bare, sword ready to slice my throat. I ducked and tackled him, gripping his forearm in the process. His eyes rolled back, and he fell backward. I let him go before he took me down with him.

I’d barely regained my bearing when I had to twirl to avoid Cylea’s opponent as he collapsed, a dagger through his eye. Luck wasn’t on my side because I found myself in front of yet another guard. He stabbed his sword toward my middle, and he would have skewered me if not for Cylea’s quick reflexes, which helped her block the blow. The guard forgot about me and pivoted toward the opponent who was wielding an actual weapon. And that was his mistake because I leaped forward and took hold of his arm. He face-planted on the ground before Cylea made her next move.

My ribs ached as his life force filled me, and for a moment, it was hard to draw breath. But quickly, the energy seemed to find places to fill other than my chest, and I was finally able to inhale

“Gotta go,” I said to Cylea and continued on my path toward Mythorne.

As I rushed past, Kryn noticed me out of the corner of his eye. Guessing what I was trying to do, he shuffled to one side, forcing Mythorne to turn his back on me.

My steps were light and silent, and when I found myself only a few feet from the Unseelie King, I jumped up, anchoring my hands around his neck, flesh to flesh. Teeth clenched, I worked my healing powers in reverse, determined to suck him dry.

Nothing happened.

Nothing except me flying above Mythorne’s head and landing in front of him, flat on my back. A jolt of pain traveled up my spine and drove nails into my head. I winced, seeing flashes of white light, which intertwined with Kryn’s agile feet as he positioned himself between me and the Unseelie freak.

A ball of fire streak past right above me, smashing into a horned female as tall and wide as Kryn. She used a magic-imbued sword to block the attack. It split in two, but part of it struck her arm, singeing her flesh and sending the stomach-roiling scent of charred meat into the air.

I sat up groggily, my back cracking like popping corn. I struggled to get my bearings. More fire, ice, and arrows whizzed by. The din of metal against metal filled my ears. The scene before me swam.

A scream came from Cylea. I glanced in her direction and saw her limping backward, a huge gash across the side of her leg. Behind her, Arabis ordered a male to impale himself, and as he did, another one jumped on top of her, pressing a hand to her mouth before she could issue more orders. The male, who was twice her size, pulled out a dagger to stab her.

I jumped to my feet, hoping to aid her, but she bit his hand. Her lips barely moved with a command, and he drove the dagger into his own neck, splashing her face with a jet of blood. She sputtered, her bared teeth and blue eyes two beacons in her crimson-stained face.

A female that looked like the mix between an orc and a zombie came running at me, a huge mallet twirling from a leather strap wrapped around her hand, ready to do my head in. I saw my life flash by in an instant. I closed my eyes. The hiss of Silver’s magic resounded in my ears. When the blow didn’t come, I opened my eyes to find the female’s ugly mug frozen right in front of mine.

“We’re even,” Silver said as he released another stream of ice at another foe, though this attack was met by a shield with enough magic to withstand the blow.

The world around me kept tumbling. Nausea hit my stomach. The blow to my head had been too much, and I was having all the symptoms of a pretty wicked concussion. But I couldn’t let that stop me. There was one more thing I needed to try.

Everything went quiet. The fighting had ceased, the last of the guards dead.

A growl from Kryn drew my attention back to him. I found him on his knee, his arms trembling as he held his sword above his head. With glee in his eyes, the Unseelie King bore down on my friend, ready to kill him.

No, you won’t. I was on his blind side, so he didn’t see when I thrust my hands forward and unleashed all the energy I’d drawn in, catching him unprepared.

A blinding light filled the clearing. I shut my eyes and turned my head, but kept my laser beam focused on Mythorne.

Everyone around me went silent, and I felt like a mote floating in a sunbeam.

At first, there was no opposition from the Unseelie King. In fact, he felt like some sort of vessel for the magic I was pouring into him. But then something changed. Mythorne shoved back, the same way Varamede had. Even though I was blinded, I somehow understood exactly what was happening.

Mythorne was like me. He was not immune to magic. He had consumed every attack that had struck him, the way I consumed people’s life force. And when I’d jumped on him and tried to draw his life force, it hadn’t worked because his ability allowed him to hold on to energy until he was willing to let it go.

And now, he was.

He was full to the brim, and he’d decided it was time to return the favor.

Today, he had drunk a lot of power, and I had too, but was it enough?

I had no way of knowing. All I could do was meet his power with mine, letting it spill out to the last drop if that was what it took to kill him.

You can’t do that,the voice of reason shouted in my head. The last time you barely survived. This time you might not.

But I couldn’t back down now. I had to keep going.

Mythorne pushed, and I felt the connected streams of our energy reaching a balance, his force reaching the apex, then getting closer to me, inch by inch.

I leaned forward, teeth gritted, every last bit of power I’d stolen spewing out of me along with my hatred. For an instant, my magic shoved his back, but then he also redoubled his efforts, and he came closer still.

No. Not today.

Digging deep, deep, deep, I gathered more of myself and let the surge out.