Book of Kinsey: Dark Fate (The Dark Fate Chronicles 2) (31 page)

Jocelyn took a tentative step toward the giant, still puzzled. Its twisted face was leering in a parody of a smile as it gazed down at something obscured by the bodies and rocks. Its mouth moved as if it were speaking.

Realization that the fearsome creature would not be gloating to a corpse spurred her back into action.
The king,
she thought.
It speaks to the king.
“Thorn!” she screamed. “Save the king!” Mindful of where the drake was feeding, Jocelyn put her head down and ran for Nerok’s head, intent on skirting the monstrous reptile. Once clear of Nerok’s shoulder, she saw that she was too late.

The giant hobgoblin had reared back with its sword held in both hands. Grinning fiercely, it brought the dark blade down with utter finality.

“No!” she screamed. Her voice was not alone. Neal, Horus, and Jordin had all arrived in time to see the final blow fall. Jocelyn felt numb and reacted sluggishly, as if she were no longer in her own body. King Thorn had been like family to her and Gideon.
He can’t be gone.

Neal shoved her aside and ran past the feeding drake, which ignored them, lost to its gluttony. Jordin and Horus followed just behind.

Neal screamed as he raced toward the grinning hobgoblin. The dwarf’s berserker frenzy lent him speed, and he outpaced Horus and Jordin easily. His battle hammer came up and around in a clumsy but vicious attack that would have staggered a boulder if it had connected. The black-armored giant easily sidestepped the ungainly attack, stepping into a deceitfully lazy spin. The abomination’s great sword arced around with blinding speed and cut Neal in twain as he sailed by. The two halves of his body bounced upon the bloodstained soil and rolled to a halt at the feet of the jeering masses of goblin-kin surrounding them.

Jordin and Horus shouted in defiance as they continued to rush forward to engage Neal’s killer. More dwarves from the king’s own cohort poured into the small clearing in an attempt to circle the king.

Jocelyn snapped out of her daze. Her blood suddenly boiled with fury. She would have vengeance or suffer death herself. No war cry boomed from her breast as she slipped past the gluttonous drake. No cry of loss escaped her lips as Jordin joined the king and Neal in eternal slumber. No gasps for breath could be heard as she sprinted up behind the dark menace that sparred contemptuously with Horus. Dropping the flail, Jocelyn took her axe in both hands and swung with all her might—unleashing a strike filled with all the hate and anger she could muster.

The forged haft of her axe shattered like ice under the impact, spraying her face and arms with stinging shards of jagged steel. Her fingers and arms shook from the vibration, forcing her to drop the broken haft.

Incredibly, not a mark had been made on the hobgoblin’s armor. Indeed, the black plate appeared as pristine as if freshly wrought from the forges.

Jocelyn reeled from the pain in her hands and crumpled to her knees.

Ignoring her attack, the giant hobgoblin continued his assault on Horus until his two-handed sword struck home. Horus’s shield buckled, folding over like a piece of parchment. The dwarf was sent tumbling through the air to land near Nerok’s hind leg. There, Jocelyn’s friend lay still.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she cried out, “Damn you!” Shaking with anger and fear, Jocelyn struggled to her feet. “Face me, damn you!”

Slowly the brute turned. Victory blazed within his dark eyes, and the wicked smile that split his face told of unspeakable horrors yet to come. “Come, dwarven scum. Maharuke will show you death!”

Unable to contain her sorrow and pain, Jocelyn charged.

Black blood sprayed across Kinsey’s chest and arms as his axe cut into the ogre’s neck. The towering beast fell to its knees, and Kinsey jumped clear. A cheer rose from the circling dwarves, who jabbed their spears into the failing ogre’s chest. This was the third creature he had helped take down since coming to assist the western front. As he rolled to his feet, he remained crouched, ready for the next attack.

No assault came as the ogre toppled face-first into the blood-soaked soil and convulsed one final time before going still. The surrounding hobgoblin forces had been forced back by the soldiers that had followed Kinsey into battle.

Kinsey glanced around, checking on the reforming battle lines, and hoped for signs of Dak and Jocelyn.

Crossbowmen rained volley after volley into the enemy, softening their ranks so that the dwarven front could push ahead more easily. Order began to appear behind the front that Kinsey and the others had established. Long shields shuffled forward to fill gaps and connect with other groups. The entire line moved forward in a rippling line like a wave lapping a shore. All throughout the slowly clearing field, wounded soldiers lay dying or calling out for help. Of the horse and Jocelyn, there was no immediate sign.

Kinsey grabbed hold of the nearest wounded man and hauled him toward safety. “Regroup. Everyone regroup!” Kinsey yelled, dragging the injured soldier away from the front and toward the reforming support lines. Two dwarves saw him and came running. Kinsey set the warrior gently to the earth and turned back to the front. The hammer would fall soon, and Kinsey had to get the lines steady before that happened.

Horns blared, signaling Kinsey’s call to regroup. The dwarves that had been pressing the goblin-kin to buy time for the reformation of the shield wall heard the signal and began to disengage from their battered enemy. Like dancers in a line, the dwarven soldiers stepped back to join with the solidifying wall. Long shields parted to allow them through and then, like some great jigsaw puzzle, the shields locked together with a great crash and the defensive border was reformed.

“Ma prince!” Ipman’s voice was shrill with alarm. “The king!”

Kinsey turned to see the newly promoted commander pointing frantically out beyond the shield wall. His gaze followed Ipman’s jabbing finger in time to see Nerok fall. The great bear reared back with a roar of agony, blood fountaining from his belly. King Thorn and his saddle dropped away from Nerok’s back, and then the mighty Ursus collapsed.

A wave of dread washed over Kinsey.
Grandfather.

“The king has fallen!” several soldiers yelled in unison.

“Hold yer ground. Maintain the wall, Mot take ya!” Ipman commanded. “They’re comin’ down on us!” As if the king’s fall had been a cue on which they waited, the horde surged forward. Bloodlust painted their horrid faces.

Kinsey staggered forward, but he was no longer fully aware of the battle around him. Soldiers rushed past to fortify the newly formed shield wall, but they might as well have been ghosts replaying some battle from the ancient past. Kinsey paid them little heed.

The beast within him roared with pain and fury at the loss. He had known that this was possible, that something would happen in the course of the battle that would trigger the beast he held at bay deep inside. He had foolishly hoped that his conscience would not be put at risk by unleashing the Dakayga amongst his people. The rage had come, though, demanding release, demanding vengeance. Despite all his thoughts to hold the Dakayga at bay, he found he was no longer of a mind to stop it.

The anger rushed over him like a river, but this time he welcomed it and drank of it deeply. In response, the swirling rage that had pushed him toward the edges of madness in the past enveloped him like a blanket and filled him with energy. Warmth suffused his being and washed away the hurt and weariness that had accumulated from battle. Understanding came with the rushing fury.

His marginal control had come only when he relinquished the fight. He had mistakenly thought that Jocelyn had held the key, but the truth was far simpler. Jocelyn accepted him. She accepted
all
of him. It did not matter to her that he was the progeny of a human and a dwarf. It didn’t matter to her that the Dakayga and its capacity for rampaging destruction were under the surface of his barely adequate control. She accepted all of it with steady equanimity, and it was that acceptance that was the key.

The Dakayga wasn’t within him, striving to get out. No, the Dakayga was him, and he was it. Only in accepting himself in his entirety could he ever find the control he sought.

The rage wasn’t a mindless thing of destruction at all. In point of fact, it was purposeful and directed. Dagda had created this blessing to protect his people. The twisted faces of the hobgoblins swam across his mind, and he knew them for the aberrations they were. The entire race and all their kin were a blight upon the surface of Orundal, a cancer that devoured without giving anything back. Like locusts, they consumed and destroyed, and in their hunger for destruction, they had chosen Dagda’s people to devour first.

One eye snapped open, and he could see where Nerok had fallen. He pushed aside all distractions of his newfound understanding and cast his arms wide, accepting Dagda’s blessing wholeheartedly.

No longer would he be a mindless, ravening beast. He knew now who he was and what his role was to be. He was a killer. He was Dagda’s justice incarnate and he was vengeance. The many inlaid jewels of his armor glowed furiously as Kinsey felt the change come upon him. Strands of carcodium webbing unhinged and expanded in anticipation of the transformation. Kinsey’s complete surrender to his nature summoned the change faster than ever before. The monstrous body surged into being so swiftly that chunks of his sundered flesh flew away as he and his armor transformed as one. The carcodium strands that had expanded earlier tightened to conform around his now beastly body as if they had been originally forged to do so. The dwarves nearest to him gaped in awe, and some even fell to their knees as the once-prince completed his transformation into the towering icon of fury they worshipped.

Kinsey rose to his feet, feeling the energy and raw, righteous fury boil in his veins. His thick mane shook as he threw his head back and unleashed a deep, tolling howl. The sound momentarily stilled even the raucous calls of the horde and its monsters. Wide-eyed combatants for dozens of yards in every direction watched in slack-jawed amazement as the Dakayga was unveiled in every ounce of its savage glory.

Kinsey leapt into action, and his stride surpassed even the best pace Dak could muster as he sprinted forward in the direction his grandfather had fallen. He arrived at the front lines in a heartbeat, and within the span of a breath, he sprang into the air. Hundreds of eyes watched him as he sailed effortlessly over the shield wall. The leap carried him deep into the surging mass of the horde. Where he landed, hobgoblins staggered back in surprise, but he ignored them. Focusing on where Thorn had fallen, he pressed on.

The monsters that had taken his grandfather’s life would not survive this day.

I
think I’ve broken meself,
Sargon mused with a groan. He blinked back the pain that crawled along every nerve. Around him, he could hear the shouts, cries, and chaotic clanging of battle. A long shield lay on top of him, covering almost the entirety of his body. He struggled against the weight and eventually managed to thrust the battered shield away to land with a clang against the side of a boulder. Formerly muted sounds of fighting surged in his ears, and he looked around with blurry vision.

Dwarves fought with goblin-kin in every direction. Nerok’s motionless body lay close by, being savaged by a monstrous reptile while a small group of warriors did battle with a giant hobgoblin in black plate armor.