Chapter Twenty-Three

S torm turns back to us; his hand closed around files that I didn’t see Magnus hand to him, from the angle I was sitting, “Well fuck. We better get our shit together then.”

“The fact that he is so insistent that we go today is suspicious as fuck.” Mayhem points out.

“Oh yeah, he’s got some sort of trap ready for us. Without a doubt.” Loki adds flippantly.

“Then, as always, we keep a lookout and make sure that we are as prepared as we can be,” Reaper suggests.

“Agreed, there’s no time frame for this one, we just need to leave this morning, so I’m making breakfast, especially since you didn’t eat last night,” Mayhem says, looking at me.

My stomach chooses that moment to grumble, and I smile, “I guess I could eat.”

“Everyone else, go and get showered and changed. Grab your bags as well. We can go over the files while we eat breakfast.” Storm orders, and everyone separates to go to their own rooms.

Once in the shower, it occurs to me that none of them asked me any questions about what happened yesterday, and I find myself incredibly grateful. I don’t want to explain it. I’m just so incredibly glad that they were there for me, especially Storm, it was his voice I heard calling me back.

Who would’ve thought it?

I feel strangely energised as I get everything ready, and as I step back out into the main part of the room, I realise it’s because I got a whole night’s sleep with no nightmares.

I join the others at the table after placing my bag by the front door. I take a huge gulp of much needed coffee, and I grab my fork in one hand and the file in the other so I can read and eat at the same time; everyone else is doing something similar.

As I read the file though, my interest in the food disappears; it seems like there have been reports of the Rogues becoming intelligent. The higher-level ones are organising the lower levels and causing absolute devastation in the Shadowlands. It’s surprising because before now, all Rogues have been working individually, which makes even the higher-level ones easier to take out. If this isn’t an isolated incident and the file doesn’t make it sound like it is, then that could spell significant issues for the future, even more so if they come out of the Shadowlands and are able to terrorise the rest of the Fae Realm. I’d be willing to bet that they’re not only testing their methods in the Shadowlands because it’s the most dangerous place in the Fae Realm, so if they can succeed there, then they’ll definitely be able to succeed out here but also because there are no laws there, supernaturals who find themselves living there are only out to protect themselves. Some factions rule certain parts which you can ask for protection from but very few can afford to pay the prices they ask. There are some incredibly powerful supernaturals living there, and the lesser known thing is that not all of them are there because they are evil and dangerous and want to live without rules; no, they don’t believe in the current monarchy and how things are being run. The Shadowlands are so much more than they are made out to be, and I think it’s going to surprise the guys. However, it is deadly, the inhabitants don’t take kindly to strangers, and it takes a certain kind of person to survive there. The vague rules they do have are harsh, deadly and don’t follow most people’s moral compass. So basically, it's easy pickings for the Rogues to test their abilities on and improve their tactics in the Shadowlands because the rules are a guideline that not everyone follows, and there’s no one there to enforce them either.

According to the file, there’s been talk of an attack planned at one of the outer settlements, Tripdeorc. As soon as I see the name, I frown.

“What’s wrong?” Storm asks, his eyes on me.

“What isn’t? This is fucking crazy, and if it's true could have catastrophic consequences for the Fae Realm,” Mayhem answers.

“Very true, but she read all that and then got to something that made her frown.” Storm explains.

I raise my eyebrow, “You were watching me?”

He grins, unguarded and reaching his eyes, “Yep.”

“Well, alright then,” I mutter, not knowing how to respond to this new version of Storm, so I explain instead, “I was frowning because Tripdeorc is an abandoned town. There isn’t anyone living there, or at least there wasn’t the last time that I was in the Shadowlands. They may have repopulated it, but it’s doubtful it was absolutely ransacked.”

“Well, shit, so we’ve basically got two options. One, they’ve repopulated it since you were there, and now, they’re being attacked again since I assume they’d be a fairly easy target, as they’ve already been attacked once, or there’s no one there, and this is a set up of some kind.” Rival suggests.

“Is there any way that we can pull out?” Loki asks.

“No, the Headmaster would send another team, and even if it is a set-up for us, they would still be sent to the Shadowlands, and they would die.” Storm says.

“So we’ve got no choice. We go.” Killian answers, standing up. “I’ve already notified the stables. Our horses should be ready. Let’s go and get this over with.”

Everyone gets up and dons their backpacks, checking their weapons before we all file out of the door and down to the stables. It takes barely any time at all to get going, and once we’re away from the ears of the academy, Storm goes over the plan.

“Okay, first I can get us to the border of the Shadowlands, but after that, Farren, you’re navigating us. Can you do that?”

“Yes, I know it well enough, and I know where Tripdeorc is.” My reply is sure. It might not be the best time to tell them that I actually have friends in the Shadowlands. People tend not to take that too well. We share a life debt and an experience I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

“Great. When we’re there, it’s safe to assume that we’re going to have to hunker down for a while in order to wait for the attack. We need to stay vigilant always. The file said that it was planned for two days time. It will take us roughly a day to get to the border,” he pauses and looks at me.

“It should take around two hours to get to the village. It’s right on the very edge.”

“Right, so we should have a few hours to set up and wait before the attack.”

“Something you need to remember is if there are people there they don’t like outsiders, they will strip you of everything valuable, torture and kill you. Weak supernaturals do not live in the Shadowlands; they simply wouldn’t survive.” I explain.

“So how do we protect them if they’ll just kill us on sight?” Killian asks, his uncertainty causing his tail to wrap around his waist.

I grin, “Fortunately, I know their language, and I have a few other tricks up my sleeves.”

“I’m not even going to bother asking,” Reaper mutters.

“You had to have spent a long time there in order to learn their language.” Kill points out, a frown on his face, no doubt because this is something that he didn’t know about me.

I shrug, not bothering to reply because, in order to answer that question, I’d have to explain why I feel at home in the Shadowlands in a way that I have never felt in the rest of the kingdom. Unless they experience the real Shadowlands, they won’t understand, so for now, my mouth is staying shut.

Storm looks insanely curious, but the words that come out of his mouth are surprising and convince me that whatever the barrier was between us has been obliterated.

“I’m not going to ask you what happened. If you choose to tell us at some point, great, I learnt my lesson.” Storm starts, and I nod, eyeing him warily.

“I sense a but?”

He smirks before it falls quickly, and he becomes serious again, “but I want you to promise me that you going back there is not going to put you in more danger.”

The surprise is palpable from the others as they all slow their horses and just stare at him.

“Fucking hell, man, you’ve changed your tune,” Loki exclaims.

Storm ignores him, still looking at me, “Farren?”

“I promise that I will not be in danger going back there,” I vow.

“You mean any more danger than you already would be going into the shadowlands.” Rival scoffs.

“Yeah, that.” I agree, ignoring the narrowed eyed stare from Killian.

He knows me better than the others, and we’ve worked together enough in the past that he knows when I’m being evasive. Thankfully though, he doesn’t say anything.

After that, we speed up a bit, trying to make decent time to the only stop that we’re making on the way to the border, the one to refuel ourselves and our horses. There’s no way we want any of us to be distracted by hunger when we get to the Shadowlands.

It’s a fair ride before we finally stop and find ourselves in a relatively large clearing with a small stream running through it, perfect for the horses to have a drink and eat before we continue. Once we’ve all settled on the floor, and everyone’s munching on the food, which I had no idea we brought who even thought to get, talk turns to how long we have left to go.

“Probably about a two hour ride, and we’ll be at the border. I wanted us to get as much done as possible before we stopped for food.” Storm explains.

“Fair enough.” Kill replies easily.

We’ve been sat down for fifteen minutes or so, and the conversation is deliberately being kept light since we’ve gone over the plan multiple times by this point. I’m just enjoying listening to them and seeing the change in Storm when I’m suddenly hit by the feeling that something isn’t right. Keeping my food in my hand and trying to make sure I remain casual and keep my body language calm, I lean back on one of my hands and start to look around.

The first thing I become aware of is the signs of agitation in the horses that weren’t there before, and then, below the noise of the guys talking, I notice the absolute silence. The surrounding forest is utterly devoid of all the usual noise that was there only moments ago.

Leaning closer to Killian, his tail, which always seeks me out when I’m close, is resting on my thigh, stroking it every now and then. I quietly say, “Do you hear that?”

He tilts his head at me, gauging my expression before listening, “Nothing, and there should be. We’re being watched.”

The guys start to notice that something is amiss, and I make a motion with my hand for them to keep talking like normal. Storm and Killian seem to do some communication thing with their eyes, and then I see the subtle hint of their shadows flow across the ground, searching the surrounding forest for whoever is watching us.

When both their eyes widen, the rest of us abandon the guise of talking casually and place our hands on our various weapons.

“I’m picking up at least twenty,” Kill says, and Storm nods in response, confirming the same number.

As one, we climb to our feet, drawing our weapons and proving how closely we’re being watched, when we hear a shout. The horses immediately scatter like they’re trained to do in this situation, so they don’t get hurt, and we don’t lose our escape.

My eyes widen as at least twenty assassins exit the forest surrounding us on all sides and clearly working together.

“At least we know for certain that it was a setup,” Loki says drily, twirling his sword.

There’s no more time for talking as they all rush us, and the clang of metal suddenly surrounds me. I don’t have the chance to keep an eye on the others and make sure they’re okay, as I’m surrounded by at least five of these fuckers. There’s something about them that is almost familiar, but I get no time to really ponder that strange familiarity as they all attack at once.

My double blades practically sing through the air as I slice, spin and dive to avoid attacks. I’m showing them no mercy as my years of training, and all my skills come out to play. A spell comes at me from the left, and I throw my magic at it, unravelling the death spell and reforming it before sending it straight back to the fucker who sent it at me, watching as he drops to the floor paralysed but still awake and seeing a living nightmare I weaved in.

It's one of my favourite things to do.

The bodies start to pile up around me, and I get a brief reprieve from attackers just long enough to glance around at the others. They’ve all got their own bodies surrounding them and look excited by the fight and being able to use their gifts to their full advantage. They can move fucking fast, faster than they should be able to. Not only that, but they’re each using skills and magic that they shouldn’t be able to. Storm’s shadows are behaving as weapons in their own right, slicing and invading various attackers. Watching the shadows enter through someone’s nose and then explode them from the inside is both fascinating and terrifying at the same time.

Killian’s having a field day moving through the shadows and slitting people’s throats with his tail and his blade. Loki is looking every bit the vampire he is as he uses his speed and fangs to cut through his enemies; blood drips down his chin as his eyes glow. The twins, Mayhem and Rival, are not only using Water and Air to incapacitate their opponents but seem to be using all the elements that are available to the fae and that they shouldn’t have control over. It looks like I’m not the only one who was keeping things to myself. I highly doubt that the Headmaster knows just how strong they are and how many gifts they each have. Reaper is using his strength to take down his opponents and that mysterious fire he used when I had to go into the Void, but there’s no sign of his beast. I know that’s probably a good thing, but I’m still disappointed I don’t know what he is.

Just before I turn away, I see Killian and Storm fighting together back to back. They get surrounded and, after a quick glance at each other, explode into shadows. When they reform, it’s in the shape of enormous shadow beasts, their horns still present and wrapped in their flames. I had no fucking idea that was even possible; you’re either a shadow weaver or a shifter. I didn’t realise it was possible to be both, and it's fucking mesmerising to watch them. I have so many questions.

My magic suddenly rears up, just in time to block a blow coming at me. I was so distracted by the brothers that I’d let myself forget where we were, and I would be dead if it weren’t for my magic. There’s no time to think about how my magic has never done that before and pretty much acted by itself; I’ll worry about it later.

A fresh wave of attackers come storming out of the woods as I fight one after another, bodies littering the floor in my wake as I slice my way through. I am dodging magical attacks at the same time as fighting off physical ones and throwing my own attacks at people as well. There’s the smell of burnt flesh, cries of pain, shouts of encouragement, and it never seems to be ending. I start to lose my confidence that I’m going to survive this fight. I have no idea how long we’ve been fighting with no reprieve. They just keep fucking coming. I do know that I’m starting to tire, and my magic is starting to become harder to pull to the surface and harder to control.

Fighting tired leads to mistakes, but not fighting will obviously mean I die for sure.

I put all my strength and energy into focusing on the fuckers still coming for me. Someone swings a sword at my head as someone else shoots a spell at me, and I’m so focused on simultaneously unravelling the magic and deflecting the blade that I completely miss the one aiming for my back.

I scream in pain as it pierces my skin, and a wave of unbelievable anger consumes me. My magic lashes out, killing those nearest me in a way that I’m not even sure how. They just disintegrate into what looks like black glitter, which I am familiar with but definitely not in these circumstances.

A deafening roar shakes the clearing and everything freezes. Reaper’s glowing eyes are locked on the wound that went all the way through my back and out my stomach. I sway on my feet, falling to my knees despite my best effort to stay standing.

“Get her!” someone bellows.

The roar intensifies, some of the trees around the edge falling from the sheer force of it. I look up from the ground to see the assassins start to back up, none of their attention on me, but all directed to a deadly looking Reaper, his outline starts to waver, and I watch as, in one move that seems choreographed, all of my men rush to me.

“I’m sorry, Love, I’m going to have to move you. He’s too far gone, and we can’t have you in the path of it.” Loki mutters quickly, scooping me up and wincing at my yell of pain.

Reaper roars again. This time it’s somehow deeper, more deadly and sends a shiver down my spine. I’m barely aware when I’m placed at the edge of the clearing, far enough away from Reaper but still with a visual.

I’m clearly not the only one watching in shock as his form starts to shake rapidly. There are around thirty of the third wave of fuckers just stood staring.