A Snare of Vengeance Read online

  The clang of a catapult releasing a boulder made my stomach churn.

  “Catapults incoming!” I shouted.

  Blaze left Caia to handle the southeastern corner of the wall. “Yeah, I’m not done with these assholes yet!” he growled, then burst into full dragon form and took flight.

  His wound had closed up. Our fire dragon was back in full force and had a grudge the size of Neraka. I used my True Sight to follow him as he disappeared below the western wall. He glided over the woods and sharp, stony ridges, then shot upward and crashed into the first boulder, knocking it off course.

  The impact threw him back, though, and he smashed into the mountainside, breaking trees and daemons as he rolled through the shrubs. I heard the catapult again, then cursed under my breath. Blaze then scrambled to get back up and flew out to intercept the second boulder.

  “Come on, Blaze,” I muttered, gritting my teeth.

  The projectile hurled toward the fortress at high speed, with Blaze hot on its trail. He couldn’t use his fire at such close proximity to the fortress—not without hurting the fae covering the western wall.

  “Vesta, take your parents and move!” I shouted.

  “Yup, I see him!” Vesta replied, then pushed her parents down toward the northwestern corner.

  Based on its trajectory, that boulder was seconds away from tearing into the western wall, and, unlike the ballista arrow, that thing was big enough to tear down the entire structure like a boot kicking down a carefully assembled work of dominoes.

  Everybody else was busy fending off daemon attacks, now less than ten yards away on all sides. Some didn’t even pay attention, particularly below, where the Imen had begun to release a frenzy of arrows at the daemons that got too close to the fortress.

  It was up to Blaze to catch it.

  He managed to speed up and almost had it, when a white streak shot through the air from the north and took the boulder down. It was instantly frozen and exploded upon impact with the stony ridge, snow spreading out on a twenty-yard radius.

  Only then did I notice the dark clouds gathering overhead, as the temperature began to drop.

  Blaze came to a sudden halt, visibly confused. The daemons behind him were terrified when he landed on the western slope and glanced back at them. I heard them curse, before the dragon released his fire and fury on the entire flank. The flames spread on a fifty-yard stretch, as the Manticores pulled back and focused on the lower half of the mountain.

  With dozens of daemons charred and scattered on the upper side of Ragnar Peak’s western ridge, Blaze took flight and plunged toward the catapults. They were minutes from completing a reload down there, but they never got the chance to launch another pair of boulders. Blaze literally burned them out of existence, then quickly pulled back up.

  I didn’t understand why he had retreated so quickly until I saw a ballista arrow shoot through the air and miss him by inches in his ascent.

  The cold winds grew as I shifted my focus back to the southern slope. The mercenaries had been quick to move the ballistae closer to the western base. The Adlets were losing their battle with the ground forces and began to retreat up the mountain, where it was easier to tear through the climbing grunts, providing valuable backup to the Manticores.

  Dozens of our allies had fallen—Adlets, Imen, and even some Manticores—while half of the daemon armies were still standing, their fiercest warriors only now getting involved. The first offensive lines had served to wear us out, just like Zane had predicted.

  “We’ve got more company,” Avril said, looking up.

  The sun had vanished beyond the swirling dark clouds. Snowflakes began to come down, their natural design a microscopic monument devoted to the geometry of the universe itself. The Dhaxanians were coming.

  Avril

  I recognized the snowstorm gathering overhead. I’d seen it before.

  The chills trickling down my spine confirmed what was happening. Nevis was here. Heron and I looked at each other as icy, rabid winds smacked into the fortress, carrying hefty pounds of pure white snow.

  The daemon generals roared from the bottom of the mountain. The ground troops slowed down, overwhelmed not only by the constant attacks from Manticores and Adlets that they had to keep fending off, but also by the rapidly dropping temperatures.

  Blaze flew around the mountain and took advantage of the momentary pause. He headed straight for the ballistae, just as their handlers scrambled to reload them. Battle horns blew in the distance. The rumble of war drums erupted from the southwestern horizon. More armies were coming.

  It didn’t matter anymore, though. The daemons clearly had not seen the Dhaxanians coming to our aid. Maybe they could’ve handled the unruly Manticores and Adlets. Maybe they would’ve eventually overpowered us. Even as we would’ve escaped from Ragnar Peak, they would’ve caught our scent and tracked us.

  But nothing had prepared them for this.

  Hope blossomed in my chest once more, the blood rushing to my head. I relished the cold air hugging me from all sides. We reloaded our crossbows and kept shooting at the daemons. They were just yards away from the fortress now. We had to take as many of them down as possible—our allies had come to help us, after all. The least we could do was make it easier for them to destroy our attackers.

  Just then, I heard a familiar crackle.

  I looked down. “Yup, so the Dhaxanians sure know how to make an entrance,” I muttered.

  We all stilled momentarily, watching the crystal-clear frost spread out on the ground and all around the mountain base. It came from the northern side, and it stretched across almost two hundred square feet, slipping beneath the boots of daemon mercenaries and grunts.

  They struggled to stay upright as the ice expanded and worked its way up the stony mountain. The winds grew even colder and heavier, thick snowfall obscuring the daemons’ visibility. I heard them yelping somewhere far below. It seemed reasonable to assume that the frost was starting to swallow them up. I couldn’t help but wonder whether that was Nevis’s frost or his subjects’. The latter could be broken and melted, at least. Otherwise, the daemons were screwed.

  Everything seemed to slow down, gradually. It was as if time itself was winding down with the cold. Frankly, after all the time we’d spent up here, perpetually on edge and, for the past couple of hours, constantly fighting off daemons, collared pit wolves, and screeching Death Claws, I could really use a breather.

  I exhaled sharply, and Heron took my hand in his.

  “Look over there,” he muttered, pointing to the southeastern ridge.

  Daemons slipped on ice as the frost finally reached the fortress. Arrows made of pure, hard ice shot through the growing snowstorm, piercing their meranium armor.

  “How is that possible?” I breathed. “It’s just frozen water.”

  One by one, the daemons collapsed, blood pooling beneath them, as the ice arrows swiftly melted. Based on the growls and whimpers emerging from the southwestern ridge, the same was happening over there. Soon enough, the entire fourth line of attack had fallen, their large, muscular, and meranium-armored bodies defeated by the simplest of natural elements.

  “Well, way to minimize Dhaxanian greatness.” Nevis’s voice made me turn my head.

  Scarlett and Patrik moved back a couple of feet, as Nevis gracefully climbed up the northern wall and smiled at me. Twenty Dhaxanians clad in pale blue silks and silvery armor joined him, lined up on the edge. The prince of Dhaxanians looked as gorgeous as ever, covered in white silk from his neck to his ankles. He was barefooted, frost spreading beneath his pale-skinned soles. His neck and chest piece glistened with silver swirls and a plethora of diamonds. His long white hair was elegantly braided back, cascading beyond his shoulders. His pointed ears were covered in silver and diamond jewels, molded to their peculiar shape. His icy blue gaze found mine, and he kept his hands behind his back and his posture perfectly dignified.

  I couldn’t help but let the sudden surge of relief wash
over me.

  “Don’t let it go to your head, but, boy, are you a sight for sore eyes.” I chuckled.

  Nevis smirked, while the killing of daemons continued below. We couldn’t see it anymore, as the snowy winds roared and circled the fortress. All we could do was stare at Nevis and his Dhaxanians—all beautiful and calm, almost surreal, with iridescent skin and sky-colored eyes.

  “Dhaxanian arrows aren’t just… ice,” he replied, sounding almost offended. “Dhaxanian arrows carry the force of the fighter, the spirit of winter, and the fury of the defender. Only then can they pierce through anything. Including meranium.”

  “That sounds a lot like magic,” Patrik muttered, frowning slightly.

  “Call it whatever you want,” Nevis shot back. “What it is doesn’t matter. What it does, on the other hand… Well, I assume you can tell already.”

  “Thank you for coming to help us,” I said. “I take it your people are taking care of our problem?”

  “The bottom is frozen, though it won’t take them long to break free,” Nevis replied. “You can hear what’s happening around the top.”

  “How many of you are there?” I asked.

  “I could spare fifty of my best fighters,” he said, motioning at the Dhaxanians lined up behind him.

  “Wait, twenty are up here with you. You mean to tell us only thirty Dhaxanians could plow through almost a thousand daemons?” Hansa gasped, surprised.

  Nevis raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. “I’m sorry, you are?”

  Ugh. Still with the attitude. I decided to give him a pass, though. He’d solved one hell of a problem for us just now.

  “Your Grace, Nevis, Prince of Dhaxanians,” I replied, then cleared my throat and motioned for the rest of my GASP crew. “You haven’t met my colleagues. These are our group leaders, Hansa Gorria and Jaxxon Dorchadas, succubus and Lord of the Calliope Maras, respectively.”

  Both Jax and Hansa promptly offered a respectful nod. Nevis measured each of them from head to toe, curiosity and fascination glimmering in his eyes.

  “Good to see there are Maras out there who don’t require their heads getting cut off in order for me to tolerate their presence,” Nevis said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

  “You tolerated me just fine,” Heron grumbled, crossing his arms and giving me the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. I loved him so much yet struggled with the occasional and sudden desire to slap him silent.

  Nevis glowered at him. “I have not yet made up my mind about you. Appreciate your head while you still have it. I might reconsider.”

  “And these are Harper Hellswan and Lord Caspian Kifo—” I tried to shift the conversation back to the introductions, but Nevis cut me off.

  “I know Lord Kifo,” he said, then narrowed his eyes at the Mara. “I’m not surprised to see you here. Even as I signed the treaty with Azure Heights, I could tell your heart wasn’t in it. It was only a matter of time, I thought. Nice to be proven right once more.”

  “I was waiting for the right people to come along and help us liberate Neraka,” Caspian replied with a polite nod.

  Blaze was still in dragon form, huffing as the cold started to seep through his thick hide. Nevis lazily turned his attention to him and grinned.

  “You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” He chuckled softly, then quickly turned serious. “Can you try to make yourself look less threatening, though? My subjects’ teeth are chattering, and it’s not because of the cold.”

  Blaze blinked several times and shifted back to his humanoid form, prompting Nevis to quickly look away and roll his eyes. “Good grief,” he added.

  “Sorry,” Blaze replied with a sheepish smile, as Caia handed him a pair of pants. “Comes with the package.”

  “Yes, I can see that. Cover it up,” Nevis shot back.

  I pressed my lips tight, my cheeks burning despite the freezing blizzard pummeling the fortress.

  “Your Grace, that is Blaze, our dragon, and Caia, our beloved fire fae,” I added, raising my voice to divert his attention from the half-naked hunk of dragon who was still fumbling with his pants buttons. The cold made his hands shake.

  “I think we can skip the rest of the introductions for now,” Nevis replied, pointing at the rest of our crew. “I can already spot a daemon prince, another daemon, two more Druids, a couple more of your fae and Maras, as well as the Imen—though half of them are, unfortunately, dead.”

  His tone was so dry, it completely undermined the gravity of the situation he’d been already so quick to gloss over. One brief glance below and I could see our fallen Imen, as snow piled above them. I overcame the pain settling in my stomach and chose to focus on what lay ahead. We didn’t have time to grieve, although one could tell from our expressions that we cherished all our allies equally and suffered tremendously when we lost them.

  “Moving forward,” he added with a cold smile, “you called, Avril. So, I’m here to oblige. How can I be of service?”

  I breathed out, steam rolling out of my mouth. I welcomed the icy air filling my lungs and the smell of winter. It covered the layers of blood, death and burnt-everything that spread over Ragnar Peak.

  This was it. Time for our great escape.

  Harper

  At first glance, I both liked and detested the Dhaxanian prince. In some ways, he reminded me of my first encounter with Caspian—he was cold, even glacial, blunt, and seemingly heartless. I could spot that silver spoon in his mouth from a mile away. Then again, he had broken his treaty with the daemons and chosen to help us.

  I guess you take the good with the bad, in the end.

  In Nevis’s case, the good outweighed the bad.

  With the siege abruptly frozen to a temporary stop, we had a few minutes to just breathe and focus on our escape. Wyrran’s arrival had brought forth a new exit strategy, one that didn’t involve anyone seeing us go down the mountain.

  War horns kept sounding in the distance. We’d made a lot of noise by battling two armies of daemons—of course they were sending reinforcements. By sundown, this place was going to crawl with twice as many hostiles, maybe even more.

  We jumped off the walls and gathered in the middle of the courtyard. Nevis used his frost as a means of getting around; he wiggled his fingers, and ice extended from the northern wall’s upper lip onto the ground floor. He slid down to join us. His Dhaxanians stayed behind, surveying the area, while the others in his group continued to strike down the remaining fourth and fifth lines of attack beyond the walls.

  Wyrran positioned himself in front of the proposed escape hatch by the fountain, and briefly brought our newly-arrived friends up to speed. “We’ve got secret tunnels going in and out of this place.”

  “We’re going to sneak out,” Avril said to Nevis, “and we need you, our allies, to cover for us. We can’t risk daemons tailing us.”

  “You’re lucky the daemons didn’t expect to see us,” Neha said, emerging from the western wall.

  I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her—ever so gorgeous, brown leather hugging her curves, and thousands of tiny red gems braided into her thick, firebrick mane. Kai joined her, and they both slid down the wall and came toward us.

  Pheng-Pheng’s scorpion tail rattled with excitement. She rushed into her mother’s arms and held her tight for a good minute, while Kai watched them both with beaming affection.

  Neha chuckled softly. “Otherwise, their first round would’ve come with a lot more firepower,” she continued.

  “Thank you,” Hansa replied, offering a curt bow. “We would’ve been lost without you.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say lost,” Colton interjected from the top of the eastern wall. “Maybe sweating a lot more, for sure.”

  Colton came down and joined us, just as Hundurr and Rover made their way back into the fortress. Rover stayed back, wary of Colton, but Hundurr yelped and rushed to nuzzle his face, thrilled to see the Adlet pack master—his brother and his best friend, before he’d suffered the muta
tion of the daemons’ charmed collar.

  “I’m sorry for your losses,” Jax said, his voice low and his brow furrowed. “You’ve all made an enormous sacrifice today.”

  “Our fallen brothers and sisters have made their peace already,” Colton replied, raising his chin. “We’ll gladly spill our blood and give our lives for the liberation of Neraka.”

  “Frankly, most of us were beginning to think we’d never see the day,” Neha said, a faint smile stretching her lips. Her amber eyes flickered with grief, but I could also see hope in them. “But you’ve already surprised me in more than one way. You even found Dhaxanians,” she added, then looked at Nevis. “I figured your kind might’ve gone extinct.”

  “It will take a lot more than daemons and bloodsuckers to destroy the Dhaxanians,” Nevis muttered.

  Heron scoffed, visibly insulted by the “bloodsucker” remark, and crossed his arms.

  I chuckled. “He was kind of accurate in describing your species, and, by association, ours, too.”

  “Still. Manners,” Heron grumbled.

  “I’m hearing a lot of noise.” Nevis smirked at Heron. “Was that you talking?”

  “Good grief, you’re both incorrigible,” Avril snapped, instantly silencing them both, while the rest of us tightened our lips, struggling not to laugh.

  “We’ll keep the daemons off your tails,” Colton said, drawing focus back to the matter at hand. “They’ll keep trying to reach the fortress, anyway. I doubt they know anything about these tunnels. Otherwise this place would’ve already been swarming with them.”

  “Agreed,” Wyrran replied with a nod. “This tunnel will take you about two miles to the northeast, virtually undetected. It doesn’t connect with any daemon passages, and it runs smoothly, uninterrupted until the end. I can guide you from thereon, while the rest of my Imen stay here and keep the daemons busy.”