Invasion (The Warrior Chronicles, 4) Page 22

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  Lucius grabbed one of the loose and rider-less horses. His body felt stiff and weak. He shook when he moved and felt like an old door with rusty hinges. Whatever those women had given him, it wasn’t natural.

  “Ready?” Sterling rode closer, looking bedraggled and in pain.

  Lucius glanced ahead to where Shanti’s people were slipping through the gate. They were some fearsome fighters; that was for sure. They were greatly needed.

  “Yes.” Lucius climbed on, ignoring the groaning Graygual at his feet.

  They rode toward the gate, every movement misery. “I think we were supposed to rest for longer,” Lucius said in a dry tone, raising his voice over the sound of hooves and the distant roar of battle.

  Sterling didn’t respond, but he surely felt the same way.

  As they came to the gate, Lucius caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned with a wince and raised his bow, fighting the fatigue in his limbs.

  “Don’t shoot!” Marc, spattered with blood and wide-eyed, threw his hands in the air. “It’s me!”

  “What are you doing out here still?” Sterling demanded. “Why weren’t you with Xavier?”

  “That damn horse went crazy. I was working on the Inkna, but the one I was sneaking up on dropped dead. There might be some more to the back…”

  “I doubt it,” Lucius said, gesturing Marc forward. “The Hunter will have called them around. It sounds like Shanti is giving the city hell.”

  As if to punctuate his words, an explosion sounded within the city.

  “Come on.” Lucius motioned at Marc again. “Get on. You aren’t any good on foot.”

  Marc climbed on the back of the horse, the weight of two riders slowing the animal considerably. They wouldn’t be able to fight like this. Although Lucius could barely lift a bow—he wouldn’t be able to fight anyway.

  As if hearing his thoughts, Sterling said, “Let’s check to make sure all the men are free. We’re no good for anything else.”

  “If they aren’t free, you still won’t be any good, right?” Marc asked. “You can barely move…”

  “No wonder Shanti beats on you so much,” Lucius said, slowing at the gate’s entrance.

  Bodies littered the ground, some of them with no signs of violence. Having mental warfare was excellent against those who didn’t. Unfortunately, it wasn’t so good when his people were the ones without it.

  Fighting raged down the street, as the Captain led everyone toward Shanti. Lucius went right, speeding up his horse. They would go around the fighting to the jail cell, making sure the officers were freed.

  Horses hooves sounded loudly. Every step sounded like a blast, echoing against the buildings and announcing their presence. But no one came out after them. No Inkna guarded the way. No Graygual came running.

  They continued, winding through the outskirts of the city. As they neared the prison, movement caught Lucius’ eye. He stopped, Sterling stopping beside him.

  “What is it?” Marc asked, his knife in his hand. It was shaking slightly. He must’ve known that if danger came at them, he’d be largely on his own.

  “Don’t know.” A flash of black drew Lucius’ eye. A swish of long hair and rustle of dress disappeared into a house up the road. The door closed quietly. “Let’s keep moving.”

  They slowed again as they neared the prison, stopping across the road in the shadow of a house. Nothing moved. Apart from the sound of the distant battle, all was quiet.

  “Should we chance it?” Sterling whispered, eyes sweeping the road.

  “What choice do we have?” Marc asked. “Either we do this, or we go toward the battle. We can’t do nothing.”

  “Fast or slow?” Lucius asked.

  Sterling raised his bow, at the ready. “Slow. I’ll need to be still to aim. My arms are jelly.”

  “They’ll hit us easier, though,” Marc said, throwing his leg over the horse and sliding to the ground. “I think I’ll stay on my feet, if that’s okay. I like having the option of being able to run.”

  They walked out into the street. The stillness pressed on them, hinting at dangers lying in wait. The horse’s clomp blasted out, but nothing stirred.

  “Maybe they just abandoned them,” Marc said as they neared the open prison door.

  “The Hunter wouldn’t have left officers on their own.” Lucius threw his own leg over the horse. His knee gave out, dumping him to the ground. Marc helped him up. “He suspected we had an extra key.”

  “Of course there is an extra key.” Marc reached up to help Sterling. “What city would only have one?”

  “We gave him four keys. He suspected there were more. I had to let Alena take a few hits before giving him what was supposed to be the last key. He had to believe I was sincere. She suffered for it.” Bile rose in Lucius’ throat. He would never forgive himself for it. To see her face, blotched red on both sides, tears in her eyes—it was a disgusting thing he’d done, but he had to for the sake of the city.

  They walked closer to the prison, silent. Sterling had his bow up, the arrow waving. Lucius took out his sword. Marc did as well.

  “I’ll go first,” Marc whispered with a quivering voice. He jogged up, throwing himself to the side of the door and pausing.

  “He has much more courage than I ever gave him credit for,” Sterling whispered, aiming at the door.

  Lucius nodded, remaining silent, as Marc moved to peer in the door. He yanked his head back, and then looked in again, leaving it for a moment longer this time. His body followed.

  Sterling started forward. Lucius gave a glance behind, in case this was a trap of some sort, and slipped in after him. At the mouth of the door, though, it became clear.

  Three guards lay on the ground, two in a puddle of their own vomit, their bowels evacuated, the third in a pool of blood.

  “Hurry!” Barus waved at them through the bars.

  The other men crowded the front, grasping the metal with white knuckles. Lucius could see their impatience and desperation to get out and help with the battle.

  “Who killed the guards?” Lucius asked as Sterling left the prison with jerky movements. He’d get the hidden key they hadn’t turned over.

  “A couple of kids,” Timken said while shaking his head. “A tiny one, too. Jerkin’s kid.”

  Lucius thought for a moment, vaguely remembering the name Jerkin. It was the man who had run off, leaving a small child behind. “The orphan kid?”

  “Yeah, him and another one. Threw poison at the guards and took off. I think they are trying to find the guard with the key.”

  Lucius shook his head, glancing out toward the door. Before he could comment further, or even think about how insane it was that small kids had the courage to take on an enemy like the Graygual when grown men had shied away, Sterling was walking back in. He held up a dirt-crusted key before fitting it into the lock with a smile.

  “What about weapons?” Barus asked with fire in his eyes.

  “I’m just back in the city. Check the stores.” Lucius stepped out of the way as the men poured from the cells. Once freed, they ran, going to collect their weapons and help take back the city.

  “Now what?” Sterling asked, grabbing his horse.

  “Now you two help me doctor any of ours that we find alive,” Marc said, his expression one of confidence and purpose. “C’mon. We have work to do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The roar grew louder as a wall of men ran at Shanti and Rohnan. Their ripped and frayed clothing waved in the wind. Facial hair and bedraggled appearances contrasted with their gleaming swords and knives.

  “Thank the Elders!” Cayan’s army had been freed.

  Shanti turned toward the Graygual with renewed determination. She hefted a knife and threw, hitting an enemy in the face. She tapped a blade to the side before grabbing another knife and bringing it down, stabbing the next Graygual in the chest. An arrow whistled by, sticking a man in the stomach. Staggering, he clutched a
t his stomach.

  The wall of army hit them, ramming into the line of Graygual with a wave of pent-up rage.

  “They are weak,” Rohnan said, slicing across a thigh. He stepped in and elbowed someone in the face, cracking his nose. He lunged to the side, getting another Graygual in the side.

  “Their anger will make up for it,” Shanti said. Her power boiled and built. The spicy quality of Cayan’s Gift invaded her senses. She smiled. “Cayan is in the city somewhere. He’s close. I can feel him.”

  “Where?” Rohnan jumped to the side, a blade narrowly missing him. “I nearly lost a cheek.”

  “Pay attention!” Shanti said, her heart in her throat. She blasted out with her Gift before dropping her shields again. Graygual in front of her clutched their heads and sank to the ground. Pain battered her head. Energy leaked from her body.

  “I don’t have much left,” Shanti called to Rohnan. “Give me a miracle.”

  Arrows rained down in front of them, fewer now than a few minutes ago. The women were running out of supplies.

  Rohnan grunted, turning with a limp and taking out someone to his right.

  They pushed on, Shanti using sword then Gift, cutting people down. The class of fighter was decent, though. Each step was grueling.

  Something flew into the crowd up ahead. An explosion tossed three bodies into the air. Shanti flinched from the concussion of air as debris rained down. Another object flew, sounding another explosion a moment later.

  The untrained panicked.

  A Graygual ran at Shanti, his eyes wild, his sword tip down. She ran him through as arrows rained, turning the Graygual into pincushions. Another sprinted by, screaming in fear.

  An explosion shook the ground, much too close.

  “Their aim leaves something to be desired,” Rohnan said. He turned a sword away before stabbing forward. A Graygual sword clattered to the ground.

  Shanti tore away her shields before sending a pulse of fire into the minds before her. Shrieks filled the air right before her power surged. A wave of deep, intense power rumbled toward them from the other direction.

  “Cayan!” Shanti searched, letting the army push ahead of her, giving her a moment to concentrate on something other than the battle. She felt him, angry and focused, making his way toward her. And then she felt another. Sharp and intense, she felt someone she grew up with. Trained with. Learned with and fought beside. Then she felt the rest of them. Mela, Sayas, Dannon, Tanna…they were here!

  “Rohnan!” she said, her voice high-pitched and filled with excitement. Her heart pounded and flashes of joy raced through her body. “They’re here, Rohnan! They live!”

  Shanti reached out to them mentally and sucked them into a merge as natural as breathing. Joy and bliss burst from each as they felt her. Their minds fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Except now there was one more. She felt confused and out of sorts. Cayan’s deep well of power was a strange new facet to an old way of working her power.

  Shanti reorganized her thoughts as the minds in the group also changed. Instead of Kallon pushing up to link more firmly with her mind, the other minds backed away, making room for Cayan. The Joined power took precedence, with the lesser power bolstering them ever higher. Then Rohnan’s Gift was sprinkled on top, giving them insight into their enemy’s actions. It was only when they were together like this that each Gift could feed off the other. Shanti hadn’t realized how lame she’d been without them, and how powerful they all were now.

  “Kallon will not like being pushed further down in the ranking,” Rohnan said with a delighted chuckle. “Their fight for dominance should be interesting.”

  “Not the time, Rohnan,” Shanti called, feeling Cayan getting closer.

  Renewed with power, she lashed out, scoring those in front of her with blistering mental power. Screams rent the day. Two rows of Graygual sank to their knees.

  “More, Chulan,” Rohnan yelled, kicking through the writhing bodies to attack the next man standing. “Take out as many as possible.”

  Another explosion went off, flinging two people away right. A peal of thunder rolled up the street. Men fell or ran. Pandemonium and power scattered the less-experienced Graygual.

  “There!” Shanti threw out her hand to point. Working together, as only her people could, came Kallon and the others, stomping the Graygual in their path. Sanders was stuck in the middle, harsh compared to the sleek killing going on around him, but just as effective. Their swords swung and dipped, their bodies glided, their enemy fell.

  “Where’s…?” The enemy shifted and moved before mostly clearing to the side. The Hunter was blocking himself off.

  On the side of the street, riding his black horse, came Cayan. He chopped downward with elegant economy. Xavier and Rachie were behind him, also on horseback, running at the scattering enemy before them. And then Shanti’s horse, the biggest bastard of them all, wasn’t just running among them—he was biting down or kicking out, catching Graygual as they tried to run.

  Cayan looked up. His gaze connected with hers.

  A zing went through her. The spicy element of their Joining intensified before warming her whole body with that deep feeling that was becoming harder to ignore. Her gasp was feminine and the tightness in her core defied their present situation. All she wanted was him by her side.

  “Not the time, Chulan,” Rohnan said.

  “I wasn’t planning on ripping off his clothes, Rohnan. Some things can’t be helped.”

  “I will remember that for when you attempt to run after this is over.”

  “It is a rare talent to be annoying even in the heat of battle.” Shanti jogged, following the scattering Graygual.

  “And even with a painful leg.”

  “Even then. A rare treat, you are.”

  A wild-eyed Graygual sprinted right, his body bloodied, swordless. An officer ran straight ahead, aiming for the mansion. One of the army tackled him, the army man’s sword skittering out across the ground. Both went down in a heap. Two more men were there in a moment, hacking at the officer before moving on.

  “Things are getting out of control,” Shanti said, glancing toward the women. Most were out of arrows, but they stayed with their sisters in arms, each holding a knife and a determined or terrified expression. “This is not a good situation for them. Things are turning into chaos. They don’t have experience in hand-to-hand combat. They’ll be trampled.”

  “He will unite us. Give us purpose and order. That is Cayan’s role in all this.”

  Shanti followed Rohnan’s point. Cayan rode through the emptying street, his shoulders squared and his stature supremely confident despite the mud caked down the side of his face and body.

  “The Captain!” one of the army men shouted. A cheer went up, from the men as well as women, momentarily drowning out the clang of battle.

  A Graygual ran straight for Shanti, his eyes hazed, his hands holding a net. He tripped once, hitting the ground in a confusion of limbs. Climbing to his feet, he looked around, confused. His attention once again found her. As if programmed, he started moving for her again.

  An arrow struck his chest. A shout accompanied his hand as it flew to the wound. He looked out to the side, seeing nothing, before crumpling to his feet.

  “The Hunter’s plans have gone astray,” Rohnan said as Cayan rode closer, his gaze hitting her again before sweeping those around her. When he noticed the women, still active with their dwindling supply of arrows, his expression didn’t change. He looked as if he expected to see them. Shanti could feel his disbelief and confusion, though. And his fear. He didn’t want those women so close to the battle.

  He’d have to adjust. Some of those women would not let go of their bows after this. Freedom, once felt, was a hard thing to forget.

  “Mesasha.” The word was a sigh. He jumped off his horse and reached her at a fast walk. He grabbed her face in both hands and kissed her hard, stealing her breath despite the situation. Another cheer went up, men excited to be cel
ebrating anything to do with sex.

  “Here they are!” Rohnan said.

  Cayan released her. His eyes reached down into her for one moment, before he stepped away.

  Then she saw them. Shanti could barely breathe as Kallon jogged up, his eyes just as intent as Cayan’s. Reaching her, he ran a thumb down her forehead before putting it to the center of his chest. In the Shumas language, he said, “It is good to see you again, Chosen. It has been too long.”

  “We’re not done yet,” Rohnan warned.

  “He still spoils a good time, huh?” Sayas said, smiling at Shanti. “Chosen…I missed you. Terribly.”

  “Me too,” Mela said with a tear in her eye.

  Before Shanti could reply, a wave of pain scored them then fell away. The men and women groaned.

  Inkna stepped out from the mansion, one by one. They spread out behind the Graygual, facing the street. There was now a crowd of black surrounding the house’s entrance. Everyone else had fled or gone into the mansion. The sides were clearly drawn, and destination obvious.

  This was the Hunter’s last challenge.

  “He has his best guarding the door,” Kallon said, his accent near perfect.

  Not all of them had learned the language, though. Dannon crinkled his brow and shook his head, looking at Sayas for help. He didn’t get any.

  Cayan glanced at the army men again, his eyes pausing on wounds, showing no emotion. Then he looked out at the women, his expression hard but otherwise still blank.

  “You cannot tell them to go,” Shanti said in a low tone, knowing what his turbulent emotions meant. “They are responsible for this. All of this. Without them, I would be dead, along with half of your city.”

  “That goes without saying,” he answered, just as quietly. “I need to fit them into my usual system. I had not anticipated this.”

  “You were just as shocked, Chulan,” Rohnan said. Tattling, as always.

  “What is the problem?” Kallon asked, glancing out at the women with an equally hard look on his face. He was hiding impatience and confusion with his battle mask. He had no idea that the women in this land didn’t fight, despite them being here.