Chapter 7

A nd where in the underworld do you think you are going all weaponed up like that?" Artem Stryker's face was glowing red, and his eyes were bulging from their sockets as he took in Emara's heavy artillery and full leather attire.

She really shouldn't enjoy that kind of reaction, but she did.

"With you." Emara stood at the entrance to the foyer with her weapon belt, made to measure from the markets, strapped to her waist.

"Like Thorin you are," he declared as he pushed a hand out to stop her. "Are you mad?"

She huffed. "I know there is a space on this hunting mission; you rubbed Torin's name off the board in the briefing room this morning. I presume he will not be attending the hunt?"

His eyes narrowed. "Empresses don't belong in the briefing room, Emara. They get terrible, terrible ideas."

The comment angered her more than she let show on her face.

"Witches don't deserve to die at the hand of the Dark Army, Artem. But it's still happening. My coven needs to be protected and you are missing a hunter. I can fill that slot. I demand you take me with you."

He let out that howling laugh of his. "You can't demand that I do anything. This is a partnership, little witchy, and even though we might be best friends—"

"We're not best friends."

He crossed his big arms. "Rude." He let a corner of his mouth turn up. "As I was saying, I, for one, am not going to get into another brawl with the Blacksteels over your safety. You are not going."

"I can handle myself and you know it." She dug in her booted heel. "I think I proved myself in the pits."

He leaned in, and his silver nose ring glinted in the dull lighting. "Let me remind you that Torin Blacksteel won't be there to take you out of the fight if it gets rough."

"I don't need anyone to take me out of anywhere when it gets rough, and I am more than happy to remind you of that. You said yourself you think it's ridiculous that I can't fight in the hunt because I am a woman. You said I am good enough."

He sighed and looked the other way. "You are, but it's not my call to let you fight with us."

Emara stood in his line of vision. "It is not your call to say that I can't either, right?"

Artem's lips snapped shut and his attention was back on her face.

She raised an eyebrow. "It would have been the commander's decision, but since he has gone into the city for a meeting, it would fall to Torin to make the call as second-in-command." She paused. "And guess what? He's not here either."

Artem grinned like a cat that had just found a bowl of clotted cream. "Fuck, you are good. I guess we just found ourselves a loophole then, little miss, I am the Empress who likes to fight demons. "

Emara smiled back as her magic thrummed through her whole body, readying her for the mission.

Demon flesh wasn't as easy to cut through as the hunters made it look. It was tough and leathery, and the smell was vile.

The spear in Emara's hand was covered in reddish-black gore, but that didn't stop her. She slinked between the trees on the border that introduced the Ashdale Forest with Huntswood. She had taken down a few demons on the way through the woods, but the band had been separated when a monstrous beast with wings flew out from behind a huge fir tree above to devour them. The wolf moon wasn't full yet, but it provided a distant beam of light down through the branches that were covered in thick green needles. She knew the clan was around here somewhere, keeping out of sight, waiting for the demons to make the first move.

She let out a breath and felt her skin prickle, the eerie silence of the woods too much for her heart to handle. All she could hear was the pulse in her neck and the distant flap of wings.

The demon was close.

She swallowed. Should she make a run for it? Should she try and make it out to the clearing where Marcus had instructed they should meet, or should she wait patiently for the Dark Army to reveal themselves again?

Demons were in the trees too, but she didn't know where.

Holding her weapon, she peered around the trunk to catch a glimpse of the forest. Nothing but broken moonbeams highlighted the forest floor.

A gust of wind that felt hot and wet brushed against her skin. The hairs on her arms stood to attention, as did the hairs at the nape of her neck.

There was no wind. She knew the air. Air was in her blood. The demon was stalking her. She spun around, immediately stabbing her spear outwards. Her weapon caught on thick skin, and she came face to face with crimson eyes, teeth like blades, and a face like something out of a nightmare.

It wasn't a lesser demon; this beast was bred for destruction and carnage. It bared its multiple rows of teeth and its nostrils flared; it was mountains taller than her and as sturdy as a tree.

She wasn't sure she could kill this one on her own, but she wasn't left with much choice either. Her heart lodged itself in her throat as fear tried its best to paralyse her. She was ready for this. She talked down her fear and summoned her air. She needed space; the beast was too close.

Before the creature could snap at her, she shoved out her palm and the element of air tunnelled around her, slamming against the beast. The air caught the demon's wings and it was propelled over the forest floor before crashing against the huge trunk of a tree.

It recovered in a second, hoisting its muscly legs up. It stood like a huge monument, heavy enough for its claw-like feet to be digging into the innocent earth. Its massive wings splayed out, and Emara could see the detail in them as the moonbeams hit its dark veins that spread like a spider web across them.

She rotated the spear in her hands, and the demon watched her, tilting its head to the side like the born predator it was.

Before she could strike it, a piercing noise attacked her skull, sharp and excruciating. Her head throbbed like someone had stabbed her with an arrow. Emara gritted her teeth to work through the pain, and it reminded her of when the demon had attacked her grandmother's home, how it had almost immobilised her with a similar sound.

She had to fight it. The legs of the demon moved in slow motion towards her, its giant wings dragging across the ground. She blinked a few times to steady her vision.

Empressssssssss.

A hissing in Emara's mind made her shake her head. Was she hearing things now? This was a creature of the underworld, not a knight or a man. How would it be speaking to her?

Empressssssss.

An ancient voice hissed again, sending shivers across her skin. The pain in her head increased, and as the beast stalked towards her, she stumbled back, still trying to keep a reasonable distance between them.

Her spine struck bark, and she knew she had hit a tree. She blinked a few times to regain focus, but the pain in her head blurred her vision again.

"Block it out," Torin had coached her. "Anything I say you must learn to block it out. Do not listen. The more you tune in to what a demon is saying, the higher the chance of it capturing your mind. Do not let it in. Fight it. It's trying to distract you long enough to kill you."

But this thing didn't seem like it was trying to kill her, not yet. It was trying to communicate with her. She couldn't let it in. Her darkness was tingling. Emara took a breath, and as a roar erupted from her mouth, fire soared from her palm.

Her fire missed and hit a tree, igniting leaves and branches. Smoke began to funnel up the tree as the flames licked higher, but Emara had to shut down the panic stirring up in her heart.

She set her sights back on the demon.

You have daaark blood, it taunted her, looking at her through ruby-red eyes. You are one of ussssss. It stalked towards her. I can smell that you have darkness in your veinssss, yet an undeniable sweetnessss of Light . I know who you arrrre. Don't fight me, pretty one of Balan's seeeeed. Join me. Join ussssss. Come back to the underwooorld.

Emara's heart almost stopped.

Join us.

Underworld.

Why could she hear it speaking to her? Why could she hear its thoughts? This hadn't happened any other time that she had slain a member of the Dark Army.Her darkness urged at her fingertips for release.

I can smell the darkness in your veins.

Balan's seed.

Balan. King of the Underworld, Protector of the Dark God. She wouldn't be recognised as having anything to do with that evil bastard. Not now. Not ever!

"My name is Emara Clearwater, Empress of Air and granddaughter to Theodora of House Air. You cannot brand me with your dark filth. I am of the Light. I worship the Goddess of the Moon and Dreams. And I will smile as I cleanse this earth from the evil that you spread."

Emara blasted out fire again, and this time it caught a wing as the creature tried to take flight. Even with its skin ablaze, the creature managed to get into the air, its powerful wings batting around the smoke from the burning trees and turning her vision murky.

Out of the smoke, the demon swooped down.

Emara ducked, falling to the ground. As she rolled onto her back, she saw the creature coming down again and readied her spear to strike. Agnes stabbed into a leg, and, pulling as hard as she could, she brought the creature to the ground. The earth shook beneath her. She scrambled to her feet, leaving her spear sticking in its leg. Quickly, she pulled a small sword from her weapon belt and jumped atop the beast with the full intention of piercing it through its heart. But the creature had moved, its claws drawing up and ensnaring her hands. The demon pushed its full weight over, pinning Emara underneath, and its claws dug into her wrists.

She let out a scream, one that she knew reached the stars in the sky, and she let go of her weapon.

The creature bowed down close to her face, and the weight threatened to stop her from breathing altogether. Her lungs clutched to the thin air they had left.

The king issssss coming for youuuuuu.

The winged creature let out a shriek of pleasure, and wet drool hit Emara's face just as the smell of sulphur did.

She could have passed out for a moment, her vision blurry and her head numb from the lack of oxygen, but then she heard a growl.

And it hadn't come from the beast.