Page 164
Story: Fate Calls the Elf Queen
“You wanted a fight. Now you’ve got one.” War stood at the demon prince’s back with a black-bladed sword in hand. “I like our odds better than yours, Morv.”
The corner of her mouth tugged up; Hel and War were back fighting again and this time, not in opposition. The black spots in her vision thickened. She could barely see the dying sunlight now, as it dipped behind the high mountains. Her arms gave out and she collapsed onto her side. The pain was too much. She was so tired; sleep beckoned her.
Not sleep. She wouldn’t wake up, but her eyes closed anyway. There were screams nearby—she needed to help. The sound of swords clanking, and soldiers shouting orders. Someone was crying. Her core felt cold now, where the blood had once been warm.
Suddenly she was lifted off the ground and brought against a strong, firm chest.
“Hel,” she murmured, opening her eyes again to find his face. She let her head fall against his shoulder; his huge white wings spread.
“Fuck him up,” Hel said to War, and then lifted off the ground, gripping her tighter to him.
A burst of panic shot through her and she clutched at Hel’s battle leather top. “He can’t fight them both alone!”
They rose higher, the wind whistling in her ears, ruffling her hair.
War charged, driving his boots into the grass, and let out a warrior’s cry. Morv whirled around on him, and the hound barreled ahead of his master. Its terrible snarling cry made her shudder.
“He’s not alone, and my priority is you.” Over Hel’s shoulder, she spotted Leif, Fennan, and Piper charging in. Presco dropped in from the sky shaking the ground with his heavy weight.
Suddenly everything went dark. Space seemed to pull and crush her body at once until they appeared inside the stone circle where Varlett lay unconscious. It was quiet over here. The ribbits of the toads in the pond were louder than the battle in the distance.
Gently, Hel set Valeen down on the stone, careful to cradle her head as he did. “I’m so sorry I did this. I didn’t mean to.” His voice cracked. “I didn’t know.”
He placed a light hand over her abdomen. The warmth of his magic soothed the pain away in a moment. “You couldn’t have known.” She laid her palm on his forearm to reassure him.
The warmth in her core began to return, her pumping heart beat stronger, and the blackness sprinkled across her vision lifted like a fog on a sunny morning. It was remarkable how quickly the god of magic’s healing powers worked. Her husband’s power. Almost as good as having her impenetrable immortal body. Then he moved to the wound on her back, her thigh, and arm.
Valeen stared up at the sky, stained red with the setting sun. Red like it was painted with the blood of all the people dying that night. Her throat thickened and anger revved up in her chest. She would end Morv for good.
“I needed to bring you here to make sure she’s healing, too.”
“If it doesn’t, I’m in trouble.” Turning her head, she found Varlett curled on her side with her back toward them. Parts of her golden waves of hair were stained deep reddish-black with blood. Her clothes were torn in places exposing her injured flesh that closed as she watched.
Energy returned to her limbs, and her thoughts became less muddled.
“Talk to me. How are you feeling?”
She pushed herself up to her elbows then Hel took her arm and pulled her to her feet. He looked her over, searching for anything he may have missed, but she turned her attention to War and the others. “Can you stand on your own?”
“I think I’m better now.” She moved her upper body side to side, shifting her torso to make sure, and rolled her shoulders. No pain. “It’s time to end this, Hel.”
He took her hand and grinned, wild eyed and ready to kill. “Let’s see the night goddess take her vengeance.”
They appeared at the edge of the fight. Fennan, Leif, and Piper took turns swiping at the remaining hound, narrowly missing his snapping jaws until Presco roared in and snatched the hound around the belly, ragdolling it in his giant mouth until the creature went limp and he tossed it; it arced through the air until its hulking black body fell into the ravine. Another hound’s body lay nearby with its head torn off. That meant all three were dead.
War and Morv fought sword on sword, weapons clashing, wooshing, clanging. They moved like a dance with eloquent footwork striking here, dodging there.
But something was wrong. Morv was good but flawed so why hadn’t War ended this yet? No one was as good with a blade as he was. He picked anyone else apart easily. Then she saw the torn flesh from a bite on his left forearm… the hound… Its poison.
None of the others survived a bite from the demon’s hound, and War was not immortal this time.
Chapter47
VALEEN
Valeen tossed Darkbringer to Hel and summoned Soulender right to her palm and sprinted for Morv, rage fueling each step to move faster and faster.
“Valeen, wait,” Hel called after her, but she didn’t look back.
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