Legion entered their tunnels now, amused that the enemy had sought such a refuge, surrounding themselves with the corrupted, those who could so easily be turned against them. He continued into the mountain, spreading with every touch, a storm growing within the dark heart of this mountain.
With every step deeper into the hermit’s lair, his eyes multiplied, his voice expanded. His enslaved called others to him. They came to him, like moths to his cold flame, swelling his ranks further.
He followed his forces ever deeper — until he heard familiar heartbeats.
The Woman’s frantic flutter, the Warrior’s thunderous beat.
Here was the pair who came so close to destroying his vessel.
Fury fired through him as he lifted an arm.
Go, he commanded.
His storm raged through the tunnels, preparing to break upon those below. He knew the others had already obtained the second stone. Its fiery song had echoed up to him as he fell toward it. Knowing that the stone had been found, he no longer needed any of these others, not even the Knight.
Legion cast out his final order, filling his desire into his army’s silent hearts.
Kill them all.
With the cub at his side, Rhun snatched a scythe from among the garden tools.
Sophia grabbed a wood axe in one hand, a hammer in the other.
Elizabeth raised a shovel.
Rhun turned, just as figures boiled out of a tunnel at the rear of the church, falling upon those strigoi and blasphemare gathered there, like a wave crashing on rocks.
If not for Jordan’s warning moments ago, they would have been unprepared, ambushed before they could react.
One of the attackers broke through the fighting, flying through the air toward Erin. She was down on one knee, pulling up the backpack holding the stone and gospel, protecting them both.
Rhun swept to her side, swinging high with the scythe, cleaving through the leg of the beast and knocking its body away. The strigoi crashed to the floor, black blood pouring from its severed limb. Still, it struggled to come at them, clawing and kicking, a furious scream ripping from its throat, exposing a black handprint branded on its pale cheek.
The mark of Legion.
Then Jordan appeared, moving as swiftly as a striking hawk. He swung down with his hoe and split the creature’s skull.
Rhun pulled Erin to her feet, as Jordan spun away, breaking his weapon over the back of a blasphemare panther. Then he twisted around to stab the splintered end through the animal’s eye. Before Rhun could even react, Jordan turned and ripped the scythe from his hand.
Rhun did not protest, retreating instead with Erin, knowing he had to keep her and what she carried safe.
Sophia and Elizabeth guarded his sides, while Jordan took the fight to the enemy as more beasts and strigoi flooded into the back of the church. Their numbers were overwhelming. It was a fight they could not win.
Then light burst brighter behind Rhun’s back, accompanied by a great roaring.
“To me!” Hugh shouted.
Rhun glanced back to see Hugh drag the second of the church’s double doors open, revealing the thunderous cascade of water beyond the threshold. Rhun also noted how shadowy that light appeared. While a few minutes of the day remained, Hugh’s church faced east. With the sun setting to the west, the shoulder of the mountain shadowed the threshold. The light was too meager to offer true protection.
Proving this to be true, another strigoi broke through and came at them.
But a flash of white shot through the air and tackled the thin form to the floor, raking its face and throat with silver claws, as if trying to erase Legion’s mark from that flesh.
Hugh grabbed Rhun’s elbow and shoved a rolled sheet of leathery vellum at him. “An ancient map, etched on calfskin. It will show you the way to the valley.”
Rhun accepted the scroll and shoved it through the belt of his pants to secure it. He then grabbed Erin around the waist, knowing there was only one way to survive this assault.
“We must jump,” he said.
Erin twisted in his grip, facing the dark church and the war inside. “Jordan…”
Rhun spotted the man, a rock in the middle of a black maelstrom. Jordan moved with incredible speed and ferocity, bleeding from a thousand cuts, spattering that darkness with his holy blood, burning and cutting a swath around him with his scythe.
But even the Warrior of Man could not stand long before such a storm.
As Rhun watched, Jordan collapsed to one knee, about to be swamped.
“We’ll get him,” Sophia said, waving to Elizabeth.
Hugh whistled, and from the shadows, the pack of black dogs appeared. “Defend them,” Hugh ordered, pointing to the two women. “The Warrior of Man must not fall.”
The pack took off with Sophia and Elizabeth.
Rhun tightened his hold on Erin. “They will not fail,” he promised her.
She stared up at him, her eyes shining with fear, but she trusted him enough to nod.
Across the way, a new figure emerged into the church, darker than the shadows, a black sculpture of a former friend.
Erin spotted that monster, too.
Legion wearing Leopold’s skin.
So the demon still lived.
Rhun did not wait and took the only path left to them.
He pulled Erin close, backed to the thunderous roar, and leaped out of the mountain.
Erin gasped at the icy cold, only to have the air pounded from her chest by the force of the water. She tumbled as she plummeted, but Rhun’s one arm was iron around her shoulders, his legs were steel around her lower waist, his cheek against hers.
Then they hit the pool below with an impact that jarred her every bone. They plunged deep, to where the waters grew dark. She sucked in water, choking. Then she felt herself propelled upward. Rhun kicked with his legs, but he kept his arm around her, never letting go.
They breached the surface, greeted by the roar of the falls.
She coughed out water, gasping great gulps of air.
Rhun dragged her toward the shoreline. She finally caught enough breath to kick and paddle on her own. They crawled on hands and knees out of the pool. She turned, sitting on a hip, staring upward. With the sun almost set behind the mountain, the waterfall was dark, hiding the church behind it.
“Jordan,” Erin choked out.
Rhun stood and staggered to their pile of clothing and gear. Erin recognized the wisdom of his action and followed, her limbs shaking from cold and fear. She grabbed her Colt 1911. The steel butt in her grip helped settle her.
Rhun recovered his silver karambit. “The sun will be down in minutes. We must go.”
“What about Jordan and the others?”
As if summoned by her words, a tangle of figures burst from the dark cascade. They fell through the air and crashed into the pool below, plunging deep. Erin rushed to the shore, searching the water, watching a storm of bubbles rise — then from the depths, a figure burst forth.
Elizabeth.
She dragged up the limp form of Jordan, rolling him to his back. He wasn’t moving. Blood spread around him, staining the blue waters like an oil slick. Lacerations and scratches crisscrossed his chest. White bone shone through one huge gaping wound.
Then Sophia popped into view behind them, pulling up the waterlogged form of the young lion. The cat paddled and thrashed, momentarily panicked, hacking out water. But the cub regained its wits and followed the others.