Exiled heir the empty th.., p.26
Exiled Heir (The Empty Throne Trilogy Book 1), page 26
For half a second, the room was silent, and then it exploded into noise again. Cade looked at me, the corner of his mouth twisting up. I understood what he was saying. I nodded.
Rolling his wrist, Cade twisted his magic, and I felt it wrap around my chest, then spread over my body, the inky blackness familiar and welcome. I remembered being afraid of Cade’s magic. Being afraid of Cade. Now, I knew exactly what was coming next. Pain.
We arrived in the middle of what looked like a fire road, the sun high and bright in the sky, every drop of the morning fog burned off.
I heard a scream and turned, facing east. Further down the road were three SUVs, the windows tinted dark. One of the cars was completely destroyed, as though an invisible boulder had dropped on top of it, smashing the frame and cratering the roof.
I recognized the flash of magic, the scream of metal as it sheared away from sharp talons. Still, it took a moment for me to understand what I was seeing. Gargoyles spun in the sky, their enormous forms oddly disproportionate, massive torsos and spindly little legs. They screeched and screamed in an unfamiliar language. The mages were immediately recognizable by their high-necked shirts, the fluidity of their movements. They had created some sort of shielding spell, which spun above them in silver and purple. The enormous trees of the forest surrounded them and—
My eyes saw something my brain refused to understand, like I was getting an error message for my own mind.
The trees reached out, grabbing at one of the enormous gargoyles and slamming it into the ground. The gargoyle screeched, loud and unhappy, and forced its way out of the thick wooden trap, shards of wood and leaves dropping to the ground. The tree lost a limb, and the gargoyle’s front talon was shattered, but both the tree and the gargoyle escaped mostly intact.
“Prince Bartlett,” the tree nearest us said, its voice a crackle of dried leaves. “Is this how you greet your guests?”
“Elder,” Cade said. It sounded like a title, but he didn’t bow his head or make any movement of deference. “It’s not.”
I could hear his heart speeding up with each passing second. When he looked at me, his eyes were wide and searching. This might be familiar territory for me, but he was a novice when it came to war. I had enough experience with combat to know inexperience was a good way to get killed.
And I couldn’t afford for Cade to get killed. Not because of the loss of a million dollars but because I needed him. I wanted—I cut off the thought, unwilling to promise anything for a man I hadn’t even known three weeks ago.
There were four gargoyles. One was injured; the other three circled. I watched their patterns for just long enough to tell that they were guarding the injured one, protecting it as best they could.
“How many of you are here?” I asked the dryad.
The elder tree paused, her words taking longer than I liked. Battle was always a matter of seconds, and we were wasting the only advantage we had.
“Five,” the elder tree said.
“Can all of you fight?” I asked.
“Yes,” the tree said.
“For now, keep yourselves and the other two mages safe,” I said. “Cade and I will take care of the rest.”
“We will?” Cade asked.
I grinned at him. “We’re the dream team. We can do anything.”
“I’m sorry, are we a nineties basketball team? Is Michael Jordan around here and I’m just not aware of it?” Cade raised an eyebrow, arch and annoyed, but I could hear his heart pounding in his chest, hear the carefully controlled fear.
“You’re Jordan, I’m Scottie Pippin, and we can do this,” I said.
Then I was off, Cade behind me, moving swiftly. When we reached the SUVs and the mages hiding behind the doors, Cade shouted, “Protect the dryads!”
They were so focused on the gargoyles our sudden appearance startled the mages, and one of them let loose their spell early, the magic exploding wildly against one of the gargoyles. It chipped some of the stone, dust drifting down, but didn’t do any real damage.
“Prince Bartlett!” The older of the two gestured. “You should get out of here. I’ve never fought creatures like this.”
“Leave them to us. Take the dryads back to the house.” He lifted up his hand, and a black net flew into the air, wrapping around one of the gargoyles and dragging it down.
The mage gaped, his mouth working for a moment. “My prince, I will not abandon you.”
“Now!” Cade ordered. A gargoyle swooped down. I wasn’t shifted, but I could feel it under my skin, the strength, the pop of bone and muscle that made me stronger, faster, able to do more than my human body should be able to.
I leapt up and wrapped my arms around its wings. As I bore it down, I heard the pops of mages disappearing.
Gargoyles were creatures made of stone. There was some argument about whether they were even sentient or just creatures ruled by the magic that had breathed life into them. They came in multiple shapes and forms, but these ones looked like the classical ones you’d find on cathedrals: massive wings, demonic faces, clawed hands and feet.
The one I fought had eyes that were larger than its face supported, and sharp teeth snapped at me as it tried to shake me loose. The two of us plunged into the earth, its claws and weight digging a deep groove in the soft forest soil.
I leapt up immediately, pointing at it. “A net!”
Cade didn’t need to be told twice. He thrust his hand forward, and a net sprang into existence, slamming over the gargoyle.
It struggled but couldn’t get up. That left us with three remaining gargoyles. They shrieked, spiraling higher and higher in the sky until they were like carrion eaters circling a carcass.
“The spell you used to melt the manacles,” I said shortly.
Cade nodded, immediately understanding. “How are you going to get them close enough?”
I looked down at the gargoyle at my feet. It snapped at me, tearing at the magic, but it was impossible for the creature to break free. Looking back up at the three circling gargoyles, I made a face. I didn’t like what I was about to do, but I would do it anyway.
I slammed my foot down on the creature’s leg.
My foot cracked the stonework, and I felt the reverberation up my leg. Despite my werewolf strength, even I couldn’t break solid stone easily. The circling gargoyles plunged, heading straight for me, but Cade was ready. The spell flew from his hand, landing true on one of the gargoyles. It slithered across his body, a tattooed line like graffiti marring the stonework.
In its wake, it left molten rock falling to the forest floor, burning patches on the ground.
The gargoyle screamed, loud enough that trees trembled around us. It rolled its body, the molten bits of rock flying to the trees. My eyes widened. California was always a tinderbox—one spark and the entire Bartlett forest would go up in flames.
“Do not worry. You take care of the creatures. I will guard the forest as I have for two hundred years.” Someone spoke next to me, and I spun.
The woman was tall, taller than me, and as thin as a narrow tree trunk. Whorls and lines of grain marked her polished wooden flesh. Her hair was a long cascade of green leaves.
“Elder,” I greeted, making an assumption based on her voice.
The gargoyle with Cade’s magic crawling over it crashed into one of the trees, dragging its claws down the trunk, leaving deep grooves and burning wood in its wake.
The other two gargoyles immediately plunged, circling it, trying to get it back aloft.
I was ready. My legs ached with the desire to shift. Every part of me wanted to be a wolf. I needed the sharp claws and tearing teeth, the strength in my muscles and the endurance of my body.
When the gargoyle came crashing to the ground, I leapt on top of it, grabbing hold of one of its wings and wrenching it off entirely. The creature flipped itself over, its claws facing me, its mouth opening in a scream as its eyes flashed. But I was ready.
I slammed its own wing down on one of its claws, using the heft of the stone to smash its paw. It shattered, and the gargoyle went still for a moment before curling in on itself, shrieking and thrashing.
“Net!” I shouted, not even turning to look at Cade.
I felt the magic coming up behind me and leapt out of the way as it landed on top of the gargoyle. Immediately, something hit my back, and I was thrown into the undergrowth. Branches scraped my arms and face, and I struggled to turn. But something was on top of me, digging its claws into my back, wrapping sharp teeth around my neck.
If I was in wolf form, I would know exactly what to do, and I felt a hint of fur emerge, but not enough to bring forth the full wolf.
Careless, Basil hissed in my ear. Then the snake moved—I felt it as it left my throat, and the gargoyle flew backward, thrashing as Basil burned his way across the gargoyle’s paw.
I grabbed hold of the wing I had torn free and used it like a shield, running forward and slamming into the gargoyle, my entire weight falling on top of it. I felt a crack, but that wasn’t enough.
I extended my hand, pressing it on top of Basil where the snake was moving across the gargoyle’s torso. The snake slithered up my arm immediately.
“Fire,” I said. The snake understood, squeezing tightly around my forearm.
I pulled my arm back, then slammed it forward. It was enough to break bones, pummel organs, do damage.
It was not enough to break through solid stone. But Basil had strengthened my arm with magic, and when I hit the gargoyle, there was an explosion. Pure magic warped the air between us.
I was thrown backward, hitting the tree trunk hard. The gargoyle had been fully decapitated, its limbs going limp, its head rolling to the side.
The remaining gargoyle screamed, diving toward me, but a net hit it, sending it off-balance, trapping it against a tree trunk.
Tree limbs wrapped around it, tighter and tighter, even as the creature thrashed and screamed. Finally, there was a horrible crack, and the gargoyle went still.
The dryad elder stood at the roots of the tree, bracing both hands against the trunk. We had won.
I collapsed down to my knees, my muscles trembling and jumping. A hairline fracture drew a crooked line of pain up one of my arms, from the bones in my hand straight to my shoulder.
Looking around, I searched for Cade. He leaned against one of the cars, sweat dampening his hair, turning his pale skin waxy. I was across the field of battle in only a few steps, standing next to him, taking some of his weight.
“Are you okay?” I asked stupidly.
“I’m fine,” he said shortly. “Just polishing the car with my ass.”
“I’m going to have to speak with your manager,” I said. “You’re missing a few spots. Careless.”
He’s used too much magic, too quickly, Basil hissed. Help him.
I wasn’t even sure how to begin to help him. I leaned against him, taking his weight, letting my fingers linger as I looped one of his arms over my shoulders.
He slumped, trembling against me. This was the first time I had ever seen him weak. Even when he was losing control, shattering windows, his magic spilling off his skin like ink, he was never weak.
“Can you hold out for the rest of the mages to get here?” I asked, my voice low so the dryad elder wouldn’t be able to hear.
“Yes.” He swallowed hard, and he got his feet back under him, straightening. With his knees locked, he trembled, gasping in enormous breaths of air.
The dryad elder circled the gargoyles, observing them with dull wooden eyes. Finally, she approached us, and I felt Cade tense against me. I used the hand wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, give him stability.
“Prince Bartlett. I am glad to see you again, glad to have your support in this battle.” She nodded her head.
“I’m sorry the guards I sent to protect you fled to the house. They needed to alert the rest of us.” Cade’s voice was rough, but it strengthened the more he talked.
“I think we both understand the guards were not there to protect us,” the elder said dryly. She shook her head, leaves rustling. “Since I have you alone, I must tell you. This is not the first time we have been attacked recently.”
Cade straightened on his own, his brows drawing together. “What do you mean? Other gargoyles?”
“This is the first time we have seen these creatures. They are not native to these parts. But humans and… something we do not recognize are carving up our forest. Tearing it apart.” It was hard to read her expression, the wood giving it a statuesque stillness.
“What did they say when you confronted them?” Cade asked.
“That is the crux of it. We have not been able to catch them. They come, destroy trees precious to us, and disappear before we can find them.”
Cade inhaled another breath, ready to ask more questions, but there was a loud pop, and twenty mages with a dozen shifted werewolves appeared.
The wolves immediately circled the captive gargoyles. They were led by a massive wolf, his shoulder coming up to my elbow. He was gray, with bright yellow eyes, spittle dripping from his open lips.
By scent, I knew who he was: Tyson.
Isaac jogged across the battlefield, taking in the shredded trees, the smoking bits of rock on the ground. “You took out four gargoyles by yourself?”
Cade’s face was just as stony as the gargoyles. Leon appeared at his elbow, a familiar wolf at his side.
“Take the gargoyles in. Lock them up as best you can.” Cade turned to Leon. “Summon the council of war.”
Chapter
Thirty
The war council was held in the same room as the rest of the council sessions. Only six people were invited, several who weren’t on the house council, and the rest of House Bartlett mages dismissed until Cade decided on a course of action.
Petrona took her usual seat, but Sonja sat in the seat to Leon’s right. Isaac was there at Cade’s insistence, despite Leon’s reminder that his position was informal and he wasn’t on house council. He chose the chair to Cade’s left and jerked his head to the seat on Cade’s right.
I frowned at him. I’d been watching, and it was very clear that werewolves were not supposed to sit at the council table. Isaac raised both of his eyebrows, and I shrugged.
Cade, who hadn’t seemed to be paying attention to us at all, tapped his finger pointedly at the spot next to him. I pulled out the chair, the legs scraping loudly on the floor, and sat.
The older guard who had been with the dryads arrived with another woman behind him. Pale robes dragged on the floor as she walked, and her eyes seemed to stare beyond us even as she nodded to the other mages at the table.
The guard guided her to a seat before taking his own, and I struggled to remember their names. Cade helped solve the issue.
“Finley, report,” he said. Sweat had dried to his brow, leaving Cade’s skin tacky and pale.
Across the table, Leon looked over Cade’s face, a tense expression tightening his mouth. With a gesture of his fingers, he wrote something in the air, the words disappearing into nothingness.
Within seconds, a plate of cheese, crackers, and some fruit appeared in front of Cade. Absently, Cade grabbed a cube of cheese and put it in his mouth.
Finley stood, clearing his throat. He wore the high-necked shirt of a mage, but everything else about his outfit spoke of combat professionalism. The cargo pants, the weapons holster at his waist, the heavy boots.
He was either military or trained by one of the mercenary units specializing in magecraft. His blond hair had been shorn close to the scalp, and his eyes were almost green, with hints of light brown, giving them a muddy appearance.
“We met the dryads at the border of our territory. They were ready, although they had come on foot as we expected. We invited them to ride in the cars, which they did. About a mile before we were attacked, the cars began acting irregularly: radios jammed, electronics shorting out.”
“Magecraft?” Cade asked.
“We thought initially it might have been something the dryads were doing. A magic-based EMP or other paramagical attack. Then the cars stopped altogether. We instructed the dryads to remain in the vehicles, and when we got out, the gargoyles attacked. I instructed Henson and Young to return to the compound and alert security to what was happening. We tried to fight them off, and with the dryads’ help, we managed to hold our own until you arrived.” Finley finished with a nod.
“Was there any indication where the gargoyles had come from?” Cade asked.
“No.” Finley shook his head. “They were waiting in the trees for us. They didn’t attack until we were all out of the vehicles. We would have returned to the vehicles, reinforced them with magic, but the gargoyles made it clear they weren’t going to allow that.”
I thought about the crashed car, flattened by tons of rock landing on top of it.
“Gargoyles aren’t native to the forest,” I said. “They’re city creatures. They need buildings. Are you sure they don’t belong to any of the buildings on the property?”
“No. No one in our family line has the ability to weave life into inanimate objects. Weaving is a precise art. House Doyle used to be able to do it, and I’ve heard House Morrison has taken on some mages with the ability.” Cade looked around the table. “Leon, have any of the buildings on our property installed gargoyles recently?”
“No, my prince.” Leon shook his head. “And I’m greatly troubled if they came from outside the territory. Nothing should be able to get in or out. Our wards should protect us from even woven objects like gargoyles.”
“Wait, explain it to me,” I said. “I understand that the wards prevent any sentient being from entering or leaving without permission, but what about everything else? Tree limbs that grow over the boundary? Squirrels that come looking for nuts on your side of the border? I mean, it’s not like you have lines of dead raccoons around your property.”
“No,” Cade shook his head. “The boundary prevents anything with a human’s level of intelligence or anything magical. Gargoyles—though made of rock—would count as magic.”
