Lord's Fall (20 page)

Wait. Was Beluviel fighting with Calondir and Ferion, or
against
them?

With the flare of light, the battle paused. It resumed with redoubled fury, and chaos spun around them like a hurricane.

Johnny said, “Shit.”

Through some trick of timing Pia heard him distinctly over the sounds of battle, even though he didn’t shout or even speak loudly. He went to his knees, and James roared and fought even harder, and Andrea and Miguel lunged forward too.

Eva shoved Pia roughly behind her and said, “Stay
back
, goddammit.”

Pia stared at the other woman incredulously; like she was so crazy that she would leap into that battle. Then the captain did just that as she leaped forward, and the Wyr clicked into a seamless fighting unit. They were a hell of a sight to see, she supposed, as they formed a protective barrier around her and Johnny, but she didn’t bother to pause and admire their prowess. Instead she fell on her knees beside Johnny who had sagged forward.

“Hey,” she said stupidly to him.

His head turned slightly toward her. She blocked out all the chaos and noise and put an arm around him, and he fell against her. Trusting the others to do their job, she eased Johnny to the ground, and in the fading light of the spell Miguel cast, she saw the profuse cascade of blood down his front. Oh shit.

She tore his clothing open, and it was bad, very bad. As a Wyr, Johnny had a strong aptitude for self-healing, but this, oh
shit
, he wasn’t going to get over this.

And there wasn’t time for any fucking thing, let alone time to stew over a decision when she couldn’t think straight anyway, not with that horrible, unending scream in her head, so she took her knife, slit her palm and let a trickle of her blood flow over poor Johnny’s torn-up chest. Power flowed out along with her blood, but probably no one would notice because the entire world had gone insane, and everybody else was busy making too much noise to pay any attention to anything she did anyway.

Right?

Eva knelt on the other side of Johnny and grabbed her wrist.
What the fuck are you doing?
she hissed in Pia’s head.

Pia yanked her wrist out of the other woman’s grasp.
I will
HURT YOU SO BAD
before I kill you if you say anything about this.

Eva didn’t bother to answer, but instead tore off some of Johnny’s shirt to put pressure on wounds that Pia knew were already closing under all that blood.
I have healing potions in my pack. Dig in the left pocket—

Johnny coughed, sat up and said, “Oh man, that sucked.”

Eva’s eyes rounded. She yanked Johnny’s shirt open wider and ran a hand down his lean torso, searching for a wound that was no longer there. “Princess, you got some kind of bitch-goddess mojo I ain’t never seen before.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Pia said desperately to Johnny. “Quit whining and get up.” She stuck a finger under Eva’s nose. “And you shut the fuck up.”

The rest of the world snapped back into focus. She jumped up and Eva helped Johnny to his feet just as the last of Miguel’s spell faded, leaving the clearing washed in a hot hellish red again.

At the same time the screaming in her head reached a crescendo. For a moment it was so loud she couldn’t see straight. Then with a
snap
it broke off into silence.

What did that mean? Had the spirit of the Wood died?

Something had happened when she wasn’t looking. The chaotic Power had vanished, and the fighting had come to an end, although all of the psychos stood braced and ready. Suddenly Elves surrounded them.

“Lady,” Ferion said as he shouldered between two Elves and came to an abrupt halt in front of the business end of James and Miguel’s swords. Ferion wore leggings and a loose tunic, and he was blood streaked too. “You need to join us.”

Pia coughed, looking beyond Ferion for Beluviel, but she was no longer in sight. Pia could still see Calondir. He stood partially turned away as he shouted and gestured to someone. Her voice hoarse from smoke inhalation, she said, “This is where you tell me what the fuck, and you do it quickly, Ferion.”

“There’s too much to explain quickly,” he said. Linwe slammed into Ferion’s side, and he put an arm around her, hugging the young Elf tight against his side. “One of the Numenlaurians used a very old Power against us. Telling the rest of the story would take time we do not have.”

Calondir approached, and the Elves that surrounded them backed away. The High Lord glanced over the other Wyr to Pia and gave her a curt nod. “The fire’s very close,” Calondir said. “We’re going to have to cross over, and if they’re waiting on the other side, we’ll have to try to fight our way through.”

Fight their way through what? Or whom?

“Where’s Beluviel?” Pia asked.

“She has been taken, along with many others,” Calondir said. “They’ve already crossed over.”

“Taken how?” Eva demanded sharply.

The High Lord did not appear to take offense at her tone. Calondir said, “Many of us were taken over while sleeping, and they rose to attack the rest of us.” His gaze moved over them. “I see all of your party is intact.”

Then the entire conversation became
blah blah blah
as the only thing that mattered in the world happened.

Dragos growled in her head,
Pia.

Wild joy transformed her, blazing brighter than the fire.

It’s not my fault,
she groaned.
Oh my God, I missed you.

I’m coming in fast,
he said.
Where are you?

We’re with Calondir in a clearing by the Elves’ crossover passageway. He said that Beluviel and others have been taken over. I think he means they’ve been controlled, because the Elves have been fighting each other. We—we’re going to have to cross over, Dragos. The Wood is on fire all around us, and it’s getting close.

No! Do not cross,
he said sharply.
Not unless you have no other choice. Please, Pia. Wait for just a little while longer and trust me.

Please. There it was, and not when he was cajoling, and not when it was comfortable. Her hair was practically on fire, and she was surrounded by Elves. She was even with Calondir, whom she was pretty sure occupied the bull’s-eye in the dartboard of hated people in Dragos’s head, and yet Dragos still said please. It was better than any apology he could have crafted.

She told him,
I’ll wait.

Then she said aloud, “We’re not crossing over.”

Everyone turned to look at her as if she was crazy. Yeah, she got that a lot. Pretty much ever since she had mated with Dragos, in fact. She focused on Calondir and said, “You said ‘they’ may be waiting on the other side of the passageway, and Ferion mentioned one of the Numenlaurians. Is he by any chance a male with green eyes?”

“Yes,” Calondir said, his expression bitter. “If he is not waiting for us on the other side, then some of his people will be. The fire is driving us like cattle toward them.”

“Dragos is coming,” she told the High Lord. “He said to wait and not cross over, not unless we absolutely had to.” Well, he hadn’t actually included Calondir in any of that, but she had to think on her feet here with some pretty tight time restrictions, so she figured she was entitled to some broad interpretation.

The High Lord stiffened. “The risks you and your mate decide to take have nothing to do with me or my people.”

She strangled the sudden urge to slap him. She said, “Calondir, I know you hate Dragos, and to be perfectly frank, he hates you too.” Heh, this next bit was actually kind of funny, although she was glad Dragos wasn’t around to hear her say it. “But he
allowed
me to travel down to talk with you and to try to make peace with your demesne. In the meantime you say someone is on the other side of that passageway, waiting to cut you down as you try to cross. I wouldn’t like those choices if I was in your shoes, but I really think you ought to wait. Dragos is not going to let me get hurt.”

Calondir studied her, his face cold. Then he looked around at the waiting Wyr, and at his own people, many of whom were wounded. As Pia looked around too, she realized that most of them weren’t dressed for fighting. They wore a hodgepodge of casual clothes, and some of them appeared to be in pajamas. They were in no shape to face another battle.

“Who has water?” the High Lord asked. Several people raised a hand, although none of them were the psychos, even though Pia knew fully well that they each had a canteen in their packs. “Tear strips of cloth and wet them. Be prepared to tie them over your nose and mouth, and move over to the passageway. We’ll wait.” His gaze came back to Pia. “For as long as we can.”

Fair enough. She nodded to him.

Eva said to the other Wyr, “It’s good advice. Do as he says.” They each tore strips of cloth and wet them.
Getting toasty, princess. Hope the Old Man gets here quick.

He said he’s coming in fast.
Pia gave into temptation and used her wet strip to mop her hot forehead and cheeks.

Eva scanned the nearby blazing tree line.
It won’t do any harm to hang with the High Lord by the passageway, just in case.

Whatever,
Pia said irritably. The cloth came away streaked black with soot. She grimaced, hoping she wouldn’t have to tie it over her face.
He’ll be here.

Eva gestured to the others, and they moved over to where the Elves stood in a tense huddle around Calondir. Eva told Pia,
You and me, when we get out of this mess we talking about what happened with Johnny.

Pia said,
You go on telling yourself whatever story you want to hear.

The flames were clearly visible between the trees, and smoke covered the sky. It was growing harder to take a real breath, and several people had covered their noses and mouths already. Pia looked from the small group of pale, silent Elves down to the number of bodies littering the clearing. Those bodies were the Elves’ friends, families and lovers. Her heart went out to the survivors.

Pia.
Eva gripped her shoulder. She looked up. Eva’s gaze glittered brilliantly in the uncertain light.
However you did it, I know you saved his life. I wanted to say thank you.

Pia looked away.
I have no idea what you’re talking about.
But she couldn’t keep the pretense going in the face of Eva’s emotion, and she reached up to squeeze Eva’s calloused hand briefly before pushing it gently away.

A sharp, cold wind blew over the clearing. It dissipated the smoke and brought some much-needed fresh air. A patch of night sky appeared overhead, revealing sharp, bright stars, and a wave of elation washed over her. He was almost here, almost here. She felt as giddy as if they were about to go on their first date.

Not that they had actually dated. Seemed like she should have at least gotten a dinner and a movie for all her trouble. She cocked her head and frowned. Unless she counted that one awful dinner when they fought, and he stormed out for hours, and he made Graydon give her that necklace as a present.

She loved the necklace, but nah, she wasn’t going to count that as a date.

An immense bronze-and-black dragon flew over the trees and plummeted down, his wingspan spread out to the fullest and blocking out the night sky. A couple of the Elves cried out sharply. The dragon landed, not in the small clearing, but directly in the fire, snapping burning trees underneath him like they were matchsticks.

Pia’s pulse thudded as she stared. She knew he could touch coals without getting burned and he could breathe fire, but she had no idea he could immerse himself so completely in a blaze and not be injured.

His gigantic, horned head lifted along a long neck. Great witchy, Powerful eyes fixed on her. Wings still outspread, the dragon drew in a breath. He began to glow brighter and brighter until he shone like molten gold. The brighter he glowed, the duller the forest fire became around him, and the dangerous heat cooled. He was pulling the fire into himself.

Wow, that was a crazy kind of . . . um, hot.

She danced from foot to foot, barely able to contain herself until it was safe enough to approach him. She just loved him so goddamn
much
.

Then the fire in the forest died completely away, and the only illumination in the clearing was from the shining dragon himself. Gradually he began to dim.

As soon as her skin didn’t throb from the heat, she ran forward. She barely felt her feet touch the ground. As she approached him, Dragos shifted into his human form and raced toward her, his bronzed, machete hewn features thrown into dark shadow by the intense glow in his eyes.

When she was still a few yards away, she leaped. He snatched her out of the air and clenched her to him as she wrapped arms and legs around him. He went to his knees, holding her so tightly she couldn’t breathe, and his Power enveloped her. One tremendous hand cupped the back of her head. She closed her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder as he put his face in her neck.

Neither one said anything. Their bruising hold on each other said it all.

That lasted all of thirty seconds or so, until Dragos lifted his head. It took Pia a few moments to realize the vibration she felt in his chest was the source of the deep, rough sound she heard. He was growling.

She straightened to look at him sharply. Still gripping her tight, his brutally handsome features were savage with anger and hatred as he stared over her shoulder.

She raised her eyebrows and looked over her shoulder. A few of the Elves had lit torches, and reflected firelight danced across the clearing again, while in the background the ravaged forest looked black and stark, the burned trees still smoking.

The High Lord stared at them, his face bitter with animosity. Several Elves stood with six-foot longbows, arrows aimed at Pia and Dragos. Well, she was pretty sure they were meant for Dragos, but that meant she was definitely in their sights as well.

As for her psychos, they had stationed themselves in a line on either side of Dragos and Pia. Their crossbows were loaded and aimed at the Elves, and their bodies drawn dangerously tight.