Serona recoiled; muted sounds of panic escaped as her eyes lit like purple candles. But severance was impossible. They were connected as though a vortex opened between them and sought to pull both into its darkness; opposing forces in a battle as old as time that raged heedless of their destruction.
The truth hit Marcellus like a dagger stab, destroying the facade that had befouled his senses. I have failed.
A bloodcurdling scream resounded from all around them. The sound vibrated in his ears with such force that he clutched his head to lessen the reverberation. Sulfur stung his nostrils and blurred his vision as Twilight burst from the shadows. Her silver-shod hooves never seemed to touch the ground as she slashed across the water. She hardly seemed to take the time to cross the distance before striking Serona with the force of a battering ram. The air filled with the sound of splintering bones as Serona's limp body sailed deep into the cavern behind the waterfall.
Twilight reared and snorted a blast of brilliant flame into the water. The entire stream and waterfall ignited; flames roared as if the water were slicked with oil. Unable to support his weight, Marcellus fell backward and sank into the boiling steam.
The air was still as frozen time.
Serona revolved like a dancer when she exploded from the flaming waterfall. Liquid fire flailed from her nakedness as she shrieked in rage and torment. Her body faded into sizzling droplets of glowing vapor that quickly dissipated in a gust of howling wind. Darkness again claimed the clearing as the shadows leaped and danced from the flickering flames.
Twilight snorted and lowered her head near the fiery stream. A black-gloved hand gripped the bridle. Steam wafted from the Reaver's armor as it emerged from the fiery waters and climbed atop the saddle. Its eyes smoldered in the direction Serona had disappeared.
Twilight's nostrils billowed flame when she reared and screamed her challenge into the night. They galloped into the gloom of the forest, leaving behind the monument to their battle — a stream and waterfall alit with living fire.
Chapter 36: Alaric
Alaric stood in the shadows of towering pillars that stretched to an impossibly high ceiling. The frosted windows of nearly the same height were cut to capture the light and transform its brilliance into multihued colors that illuminated the entire chamber. Even moonlight bathed the hall in a kaleidoscope of glowing patterns. That sight brought him pleasure once. But the eye-catching display meant nothing when beauty was no longer a marvel. Instead, he concentrated on one whose hideousness was a direct contrast to their surroundings.
"What news of Leilavin?"
Krolo's pallid face twisted in a hideous grimace. "She has already endured pain that would kill a hundred men. Still, she resists. It may be she means to die. I have not yet resorted to cutting limbs or flaying, but those options might be reasonable if she continues to withstand the pain."
"We have all the time we need to make her uncomfortable, Krolo. I would prefer she stay whole for the moment. Give her a respite before you begin again. Let her think of what is to come. Sometimes the dreaded anticipation is more unnerving than the actual pain."
"As you wish."
"I will require your presence here for the time being. You may station your brethren on the rooftops. I seem to remember they have a fondness for heights."
"To serve the Co'nane is an honor." Krolo bowed with his long skeletal fingers pressed together. "We are at your command, and stand ready."
A flicker of movement caught Alaric's eye. Serona beckoned urgently from beneath the entrance's ornate archway.
"Then I will leave you to that. If you will excuse me, I have other business to attend to."
Krolo backed into the shadows and vanished. As Alaric approached Serona, he sensed unease that had nothing to do with the Dhamphir lord.
"What is it?" His eyes widened when he drew closer. Her face bore scorch marks, and the stench of sulfur wafted from her pores. "Have you been injured? Who would dare—?"
She cut him off with a frantic gesture. "I focused Effluvium in time. I will be fine. But the dark rider — it is a Reaver!"
"I know."
Serona stared. "You know?"
"Leilavin is here, Serona. Jacquelis secured her and brought her to me. She has told me of her bind with the human to create another Reaver. It used to be Marcellus Admorran. Even I know of that human's fame. He was tied with the Shama before this turn of events."
Serona blinked as she processed the news. "I'm surprised she told you anything. Leilavin has always prided herself on her ability to withstand pain."
"Everyone has a breaking point, although I believe she only revealed as much to taunt me. But even Leilavin can only endure so much. And Krolo was not gentle."
Serona shivered. He didn't blame her.
"No matter. This is just one Reaver. Being anchored to a human host will allow him to be destroyed easily. He is vulnerable, more so than the others because he is tied to flesh." He clasped his hands behind his back and paced underneath the streaming light. "I witnessed Lord Drowan when he unleashed the one whose penchant for destruction is equal to the Reaver."
"Yanus." Serona's face paled.
"He is already on the hunt. Soon he will have his quarry trapped and will close in for the kill."
"How can he possibly know where to look? The Huntsmen could be anywhere by now."
Alaric smiled. "I do have my own resources, Serona. Suffice to say there is one among the Huntsmen that serves me. Through his eyes, I have seen enough to know exactly where they are. Yanus will be upon them very soon."
"Having that monster on the loose is almost as bad as a Reaver." She gazed at the array of soft streaming light from the window with a dark expression. "He hates us, you know — hates us as much as he hates the humans, perhaps more."
"So long as he obeys, it matters not." His voice turned scolding. "You should not have gone after this Reaver alone. Even you cannot face one and expect to live."
At least she had the decency to look abashed. "Only one of us has ever slain a Reaver."
Alaric's smile was grim. "If Yanus fails, I will have one more to slay."
Chapter 37: Valdemar
The air was frosty and the wind ill-tempered, but it mattered little to Valdemar. Winter in Bruallia was harsh. Everything was ill-tempered. He rode Fever at a brisk trot. A pair of Dragonists followed just a pace behind, and one more in front. Their heads swiveled as they surveyed their surroundings, ever wary of hidden threats.
The battlements of his city were blackened spires in the distance. The sun had already set behind the looming Dragonspine, casting its spiked shadow across the ground for miles, blanketing the endless array of tents and temporary constructs.
The encampment spread as far as the eye could see. They came from the kingdoms and castes of Bruallia — Ravenna, the Hallow Wilds, and Aracville. They belonged to him as surely as though they were of his blood. Fear had put that kind of loyalty into them. He had done what no one had in ages, not even his father. He had united the fractured Bruallian kingdoms. He commanded a host of numbers not seen since the Age of Storms. They would crash down the Dragonspine like a tidal wave, soaking the ground in the blood of any who stood against them.
More important, he had allies more powerful than all his might combined, contracts forged in shadow that would tip the scales in his favor. It was as good as written. The son of Basilis would be the greatest warlord in history.
He lifted a hand to halt the Dragonists and pulled rein at a burnt-out copse. A thicket of stakes with bodies impaled upon them stood in the place of trees. The air was ripe with the perfume of defecation and death; the ground churned into reddish mud from the blood that drained down the stakes. Many of the victims still whimpered and wailed from the unspeakable agony. He briefly wondered what it must feel like. How much suffering could be endured before the body simply surrendered and became numb? Torture was a science to him, and he was an apt pupil in the art. His acts of vengeance were whispered of fearfully, and men shivered at the mention of his name.