Dragonfae & The Soul Catcher (25 page)

I must be strong.
She patted the basket containing Brew.
I’m not alone. I’m the mate of a Dragonfae.
In the distance, the shadowy images of buildings came into sight. “Come on Albert, we need to find a place to hide.”

* * * *

Lumos cast a spell, turning his tunic and pants to Dragonfae armour. The thin, black, glossy leather skin transformed to a chainmail stronger than steel. He sighed and strapped on his sword. The thought of Thalia travelling the roads alone at night and running the chance of the Boars capturing her curdled his gut.

I should be with her, protecting her.
He lifted the remaining saddlebag, drew a circle of light, and stepped directly into the stables. This blatant use of magyck would bring the Shadow Walkers straight to them and leave Thalia the time she required to escape. He leapt onto Argos and nodded to Pyro who waited on Conker at the stable’s entrance. His friend’s expression held a look of determination. A nerve twitched in his cheek. Lumos squeezed his legs, moving Argos to the entrance. The horse quivered against his knees, his entire body tensing for action. This warhorse understood battle very well—this small detail filled Lumos with confidence. He met Pyro’s gaze.

“Do you know how many?”

“No… It was only by chance I picked up the scent of a scouting party.” Pyro shrugged. “We have two choices—run or meet them head-on. I would imagine they’re camping on the edge of town, for they are not social creatures.”

Lumos squared his shoulders. Taking the Shadow Walkers unawares would give them an advantage. He gave Pyro a curt nod in an effort to display confidence, although his stomach knotted with fear. The evil they faced had a brutal reputation. He must survive this battle. His beloved Thalia needed him. The future of Drakka and all his people rested on his shoulders.

“Then we’ll follow the stink. Do you know if they sleep?”

“Yes, I believe they do, and, as far as I know, they usually attack when it is darkest, just before dawn.” Pyro rubbed his chin. “If we leave the horses in the woods, we might be able to dispatch the guards. We could slay a good deal while they sleep and then return for the horses. Mounted, we would stand a better chance… They say one Shadow Walker has the strength of ten men.”

Lumos threw Pyro a smile through gritted teeth. “And a Dragonfae has the strength of twenty.” He unsheathed his sword and raised the lethally sharp weapon high above his head. “To victory.”

Pyro gave a long feral growl and drew his weapon “Aye, to victory.”

* * * *

Thalia reached the outskirts of a farming community. A large farmhouse sat atop a hill surrounded by workers’ cottages, milking sheds and barns. Soft candlelight flowed from many windows, spilling out onto neat gardens. From the moon’s glow, she could make out smoke twirling upwards from the chimneystacks. Slowing Albert to a walk, she moved along a well-trodden path to a barn open on one side to the elements. The breeze brought the smell of fresh hay. In the distance, a dog barked, followed by another, then another as if they were sending a message to announce her arrival.

Thalia rode Albert into the deepest shadows and slipped from his back. She crept towards the wide opening. On one side, a hand pump supplied water to a horse trough, the water rippling like black silk with each drip from the nozzle. Thalia glanced around, peering into the barn’s dark interior. Her night vision had improved to such an extent that she could make out individual bales of hay stacked neatly on one side of the barn. A number of chickens dozed in a line on top of a wooden partition dividing the hay from sacks of grain. One sack had burst, the wheat spilling across the hay-strewn floor. She gave a soft whistle and Albert plodded into the barn, at once sinking his muzzle into the water trough.

Thalia removed the horse’s saddle and stowed it on top of the sacks of grain with her saddlebags and Brew’s basket. She let the cat run free. “Stay close, we may have to leave if we are discovered.”

Exhausted, she glanced around, searching for a safe place to rest. She wrapped her cloak around her and sank onto a nearby pile of hay. How could she sleep? Lumos would be fighting for his life. Gods! He could be dead already. Her heart gave a twist and tears stung the backs of her eyes. She had been awful to Lumos during their night in Nubra, and after he had been so patient with her. The memory of the distress in his eyes stabbed deep in her heart. She had inflicted that hurt on him, had made him sad. Hot tears ran down her cheeks and she swiped them away, disgusted by her weakness.
I am such a fool.

“If he dies, it’s my fault. I lured him to the Singing Forest. Dearest Lumos offered me his friendship. He didn’t care I had been misused, sullied by men—and how did I repay him? By not trusting him. In fact, I threw his friendship—his love—back in his face. Oh goddess, I’m so sorry.”

Brew ran to her side and stuck his cold nose in her face. The cat had always been there for her in the dark days. Albert, too, had offered comfort in his own horsey way. Gods, in the beginning she had had no idea how to care for a horse. Dear, sweet Albert had been so patient, standing very still while she had removed the harness from the wagon, and had tugged at his halter. Often, the horse had nudged her between the shoulders to get her attention. Why had she not noticed the gifts of love surrounding her? Disgusted at her selfishness, she dried her eyes on the hem of her shirt, and decided to stop feeling sorry for herself. In truth, Thalia had faith that Lumos and Pyro would defeat the Shadow Walkers. If she lost her way, Lumos would find her.

I’m Lumos’ mate and I should trust him to protect me.
She stared up at the stars and the image of the Nightdragon drifted into her mind.
I do trust you to protect me, Lumos, as Cymbeline is my witness.
Sighing, she rested her head on her arms, and closed her eyes.

* * * *

Lumos crouched low to the ground, his dagger glistening in the moonlight. A trickle of sweat ran between his shoulder blades. He could hear Pyro’s heavy breathing behind him. They had dispatched the perimeter guards and now moved silently towards the two Shadow Walkers guarding the horses. Lumos wrinkled his nose at the stench of death wafting from the Magus’ soldiers. Keeping close to the ground with Pyro at his heels, he approached the dark figures sitting in the dirt, playing cards. The horses moved restlessly, sensing the dragons’ presence. Lumos reached for his dragon.

“Mindspeak to the horses. Tell them we mean no harm.”
Carefully, he moved between the horses, removing their hobbles. “
Dragon, as soon as we dispatch these two sentries, tell these horses to run. Send them far away from the woods.”

Seconds ticked by. The Shadow Walkers glanced around, then returned to their game. Lumos lunged out of the gloom and grasped the hair of the closest soldier. He dragged back the man’s disgusting head and, in one swift movement, slit the man’s throat to the backbone. The Shadow Walker fell to dust. A strangled moan came from the other sentry. Then a flash of metal and a grunt from Pyro dissolved the Shadow Walker to ashes. Lumos peered into the darkness. The man’s cry had alerted the camp. Men stirred and reached for their weapons.
Damn!
Without a word, Lumos turned and ran for the woods with Pyro pounding along beside him.

They reached the horses with seconds to spare, with the entire Shadow Walker camp pursuing them on foot. Lumos leapt into the saddle and spun Argos around. Drawing his magyck around him, he covered Argos’ body with dragon armour, and charged into the fray. The Shadow Walkers moved like sprites, dashing from one place to the next in a split second. Each one wielded a ribbon of razor-sharp steel. Lumos swung his sword in a continuous arc. With his left side protected by Pyro, they moved forwards as one and cut down the evil-smelling beasts. Argos danced under him, moving his body from side to side to keep Lumos balanced in the saddle. Lumos called to the horse by name, encouraging the stallion to move forwards.

The continuous onslaught of Shadow Walkers blended seamlessly into the darkness, undetectable even with Lumos’ keen dragon sight. He caught a movement, not more than a shimmer in the air or a flash of metal, and aimed his attack in that direction. The battle raged on and on. His hand ached, frozen into a fist around the handle of the broadsword. His tendons burned a path to his shoulders numb with effort. He ignored the throbbing pain of overexerted muscles in his arm and continued to slash at the Shadow Walkers. Every part of his back strained painfully with each sweep of the heavy blade. His right thigh and shoulder stung from repeated cuts from the Shadow Walker’s deadly weapons. Warm blood trickled down Lumos’ arm. His bloody grip on the hilt slipped. The pain radiating from a deep wound above his knee pulsated without mercy. The Shadow Walker’s steel whips continued to slice deep tears in his dragon armour, exposing damaged flesh. The sticky crimson wetness oozing from numerous slashes filled his boot.

How many more? Gods, this battle is harder than I imagined. Cymbeline grant me strength to prevail.
His mind went to Thalia.
Whatever it takes, I must survive.
Dragging up his last ounce of energy, he dropped Argos’ reins and, taking the sword in both hands, swung it at the heads of the Shadow Walkers.

“Die, you bastards!”

“Hold fast, Lumos, the dawn approaches.” Pyro’s voice pierced through the noise of battle.

Lumos stood in his stirrups. Under him, Argos danced sideways to keep his balance. He ground his teeth, pushing back the mind-destroying fatigue and blocked another strike, flicking the instrument of torture out of the hand of the attacker. He grunted and slashed his sword, taking down three of the Magus’ men in one blow. The swish from the soldiers’ metal ribbon-whips flicked across his back. The attacks came from everywhere. Lumos prayed that his dragon armour would hold a little longer. His magyck grew weaker by the second and had become too weak to repair the dragon skin under such continuous damage.

Knees weak from exhaustion, Lumos swung his sword repeatedly, decapitating the Shadow Walkers. The numbers had decreased, and, as the first rays of sun speared over the mountaintop, the remainder, unshielded by darkness, turned tail and ran. Giddy from blood loss, Lumos sheathed his sword. He turned to Pyro.

“I’ve sustained a few injuries and hope the blessed sun will replenish me enough to morph. Gods know only my dragon can heal this much damage.” He turned Argos to gaze at Pyro. “How did you fare?”

“I’ve not suffered as many injuries as you have. Indeed, mine are little more than scratches. I believe you were the target of this attack. My injuries are certainly not life threatening, as I see many of yours appear to be.” He cast a critical eye over Lumos. “Have you noticed neither of the horses has sustained a debilitating injury either? I would have thought the Shadow Walkers would have cut them down to make a more even battle. Mayhap they have no brains or the Magus directs them towards one goal.” Pyro flexed his right arm. “That cut to your thigh is deep. You’re losing far too much blood. I’m surprised you can still sit upright.” He ran his hand across the gaping wound in Lumos’ leg. A white light flowed from his fingertips. “There, that may slow the bleeding for a while.”

Lumos rolled his shoulders to ease the stiffness. His heart pounded hard enough to break through his ribs. He lifted his head to catch a few early rays of the sun. He must absorb enough magyck to morph. The weakness of blood loss had started to befuddle his mind. He met Pyro’s concerned gaze.

“Thank you. Lady’s blood, for a moment there, I thought we were both heading for the veil.”

“So did I, my friend, so did I.”

Chapter Nineteen

Thalia woke to the sound of Brew’s howl. Fear coiled in her belly—men. Without a second thought, she pushed her aching muscles into action. Jaw clenched, she sprang to her feet, reaching for the dagger at her waist. In the early morning light, the misshapen faces of two male beings peered at her with interest. At her feet, Brew hissed a warning. His long tail flicked back and forth. The cat’s eyes had closed to slits, his lips drawn back to display sharp fangs.

 Slowly, Thalia sheathed her weapon and opened her hands palms up. She would summon black fire if the men moved one step closer. A shuffle of feet brought another two men behind her. She turned, keeping the four men in view. The men, rather than dressed as farmers, wore the trappings of wealth. Each carried a jewelled dagger, a fine sword, and had clothes woven from expensive cloth. Their faces had similar features, small red or pale blue eyes, with a snout rather than a nose, and a slit formed a wide mouth. Their ears sat on top of their heads and their hair stuck up like the bristles of a brush. Boars.

Thalia called on her magyck. The small orange balls formed on the palms of her hands and spun slowly. A curse rang out in the stillness. The next second, a swishing sound brought a fine silver net over her head, completely covering her. One man threw his body at her. The great weight of him drove her into the ground. The bones in her ribs caved in, stealing the breath from her lungs. A sharp pain shot through her head. She fought for one precious gulp of air. Her head swum sickeningly with shock and pain. She fought to remain conscious.

“Nightdragon, the Boars are attacking me!”

“Hold her, don’t kill her.” A Boar wearing a thick silver chain around his neck dragged the other man off Thalia. “Rutta, I said get off her! Do you have any idea how much gold we can ask for a witch?”

Rutta grunted and filled Thalia’s nostrils with his foul-smelling breath. Shaking with terror, she turned her head away. Lumos’ sleeping spell had shielded her from the sight of these beasts on the journey through Trill. These disgusting creatures traded in slaves and had now captured her. Enclosed within the net, she had no powers, no magyck to conjure to defeat these men. Thalia mentally kicked herself for not acting immediately. She had been too slow to recognise the threat. No dragon spoke in her mind. The message to the Nightdragon had been lost.