Page 80 of Keeper of the Word (The Unsung and the Wolf Duology #2)

Chapter

Seventy-Three

TOLVAR

T olvar was about to hand his brother the killing blow when the sheet of blinding light had made him lose vision momentarily. It gave Crevan the split second he needed to lift his sword in his other hand and scamper away from Tolvar’s grasp.

The battle of brothers began anew.

When Crevan’s longsword plunged into Tolvar’s shoulder this time, he sank to the ground. ’Twas all but impossible to not give up.

He’d heard Ghlee, Joss, and even Alvie call for him a few times, but they were too thick in the battle to reach him.

Getting to all fours, Tolvar reached for his sword only to find Crevan’s sword at his neck again. “This is the last time. Give me the word. ”

Tolvar coughed, pain shooting through his ribs, his shoulder, his arms. Everything. “Here is a word: coward. Here is another word: cock-up. Want another? Scrote. Bastard. Cretin. Oh. That was three words.”

Crevan’s face darkened. “Very well then.” He lifted his sword.

From the corner of his eye, Tolvar discerned Hux dart toward him. Hux’s sword sliced across Crevan’s back. His brother shrieked out before turning to block the next strike.

“Normally, I would ne’er attack a man in the back, but for you, I had to make an exception,” Hux said, parrying and assaulting Crevan, whose back was soaked with blood.

Tolvar got to his feet; he held his sword to his side. The weapon grew heavy, or mayhap ’twas all the blood he was losing. He offered Hux as much as he could. Dizziness settled in.

“Cease!” the ugly voice gave them pause. Paces away stood another witch—with Elanna. She held her orb in one hand and pointed her other at Elanna, who, despite not being physically held, was clearly paralyzed where she stood. “Say the word or the Seer dies.”

“Elanna!” Hux yelled, lowering his sword.

Elanna struggled, shaking her head. “’Twill be all right, Hux.”

Stars.

Hux and Crevan stood in a stand-off, neither appearing as though they had the upper hand. Hux’s eyes had lost their playfulness. His face paled.

Tolvar lifted a hand to calm Hux.

“Say it!” the witch shouted again at Tolvar. She curved her fingers, and Elanna screamed in pain, sinking to her knees.

Hux shouted with her, shifting his feet helplessly.

“Nay,” Elanna shook her head, tears streaming. “Tolvar, I’m not needed any longer. The gate is locked. My task is done.”

Stars. Her pain. He could feel her pain. For ’twas also his.

“All right!”

“Nay, Tolvar!” Elanna shrieked.

His heart pounded like ne’er before in a battle. Think.

Hux made a step forward. Elanna screamed again as the witch danced her fingers in the air.

“Enough. Put your arm to your side so I know you cannot hurt her further. I’ll say the word, ” Tolvar said to the witch.

Crevan cackled madly. “Do not do it, Carmil.”

Elanna shook her head emphatically .

“You do not have to release her, only rest your hand to your side,” Tolvar said.

Carmil eyed him ruthlessly with her cloudy eye.

“Ravyn.”

“Aye?”

“I miss Gus.”

Hux gave a confused expression. “Well, so do I, but I am doing my best to help you.”

“’Twas a brave last act he performed.”

Hux huffed. “Aye. Ever comparing me to your real knights.”

He dared to make eye contact with Hux. “You know what I speak of?”

Hux’s grimace transformed into understanding. The orb.

“Cease!” Crevan yelled. “Carmil, do not drop your hand.”

“’Tis all you have to do,” Tolvar said to Carmil. “And I’ll say the word .”

Carmil lifted her hand to him momentarily, pointing her bony finger at him. Then she dropped that arm to her side.

“Now!” Tolvar yelled.

He charged himself at Carmil and Elanna both, knocking himself into the witch, bracing himself for the pain that would bolt into him the moment they made contact.

At the same time, Hux, too, hurled himself into them, his focus solely on her orb.

Tolvar crushed his body over Carmil’s, shouting out pains of anguish from her touch.

But the act broke Elanna away from her clutches.

Elanna staggered away as Tolvar rolled himself off Carmil and the blinding pain of Adrienne.

Hux smashed the orb against the ground, and Carmil screeched.

Hux pivoted immediately, knowing Crevan’s attack would be instantaneous. He barely blocked Crevan’s sword from puncturing Tolvar.

Hux, shifting his position to give Tolvar time to stand, swiped at Crevan, “Why not be a good villain and die?”

Tolvar, get up.

Coughing up blood, Tolvar stood as if under a spell. He knew why Crevan would not go down. The Curse of Adrienne fed him .

Your forbearance feeds you.

“Sloane?” he whispered. He closed his eyes, but nay, the white room would ne’er be again.

Under the pale gleam of the full moon, the Wolf steadied himself.

“Come, Crevan, let us see who wins and who falls.”

Hux’s face darkened, but he moved to let Tolvar cut into the fight.

A strange thing happened. The pain shed away, and everything that Tolvar was—the warrior, the hero, the Wolf—shot into his being.

Crevan hacked away at him, but suddenly, ’twas as if Tolvar knew where his next move would come from.

The Wolf’s moves were steady, patient, restrained, and Crevan’s became more erratic and wild.

By and by, he noticed that Hux and Elanna stood off to the side, observing. The fourth StarSeer’s gaze fixed on him as if she, too, fought. Ghlee, Alvie, Joss, and Barrett, too, had joined. Tolvar felt their comradeship. Their loyalty. Their love.

’Twas no battle at all, and soon, Tolvar had Crevan on his knees, his sword to his throat, the Edan Stone regained in hand.

But glancing at Hux, Tolvar knew he could not take Crevan’s life, even with the trace of Adrienne coursing through his brother’s veins.

He gripped the Edan Stone in his hand while Ghlee, Hux, and Barrett held their swords to Crevan. He glanced at Elanna. Ready.

“Oh stars,” Elanna said distractedly. She regarded the horizon.

Tolvar followed Elanna’s gaze. A coven of witches. Not the ones from before—Jordain was nowhere in sight. Dozens. An entire coven. They’d spread themselves in a circle around the field, and with orbs—the tell-tale sign—floating before them. They began to chant.

“They’re unburying the Curse!” Elanna screamed.

Someone knocked into Tolvar, and the Edan Stone flew from his hand. Crevan was on top of him, reaching for the moonstone that had landed feet from them. Tolvar punched at Crevan’s side, but soon the two were wrestling for the stone .

A sound froze him.

Ne’er, in all of Tolvar’s eleven years of being a knight, had he heard this sound. ’Twas not a sound. ’Twas a monster swallowing all sounds. It demolished his ears. He couldn’t be sure if the echo of such razing blare wouldn’t be permanently part of him.

He pushed his hands to his ears. As if that would drown it out. As if anything could ever drown it out.

Everyone screamed. Elanna most of all. She sank to her knees.

The blare blasted through everything. The Befallen, about to return. And with it, destroy everyone here.

Asalle’s walls shook, and a gigantic crack coursed up one side. Would the starstone key hold? This had all been for naught. And why shouldn’t it be? One only had to gaze at this corpse-littered field to see the worth here.

The full moon caught his eye.

“What do they see? ” Tolvar heard.

’Twas his voice. His own. An echo. From the night when he’d knelt together with Sloane on another night of the Falling Leaves Moon.

He saw the memory of Sloane. His beautiful, courageous Sloane, kneeling before him wearing her moon cuff, which was tucked safely in his pocket.

“What do they see? ”

“They see that love can travel across the sky and the heavens, all the way to the stars.”

All the way to the stars.

Tolvar’s hands loosened from his ears. He had to get the Edan Stone!

With his broken hand, his fist landed into Crevan.

They fought—through the blare, which was pure evil itself. They fought.

’Twas a fight that, through punch and strike and jab, seemed as though it would ne’er name a victor.

All the way to the stars, I wait for you.

Sloane’s last words in his ears were all Tolvar needed.

With an elbow to Crevan’s face and with more force than Tolvar should have been able to muster, he smashed into his brother’s nose and clutched the Edan Stone in his hand.

“Now, Tolvar!” Elanna screamed impossibly over the blare.

With both hands, Tolvar gripped the Edan Stone, shouted the word up, up, up to the stars, and snapped it in twain.

A whoosh resonated in his ears.

And then.

Nothing.

The blare ceased.

Nary a sound.

Silence.

Tolvar sat, and before his very eyes, the great city of Light—in all its glory, in all its magnificence—vanished.

A collective, oh, passed through the field.

The witches dropped to the ground and turned to dust. Just as the Brones had when the Befallen was destroyed.

Tolvar exhaled. ’Twas over.

Movement behind him caused him to flinch. Tolvar braced himself. Certain Crevan would be hunched over him, brandishing a weapon. And ’twas Crevan, but he lay in the grass. His only muscle that moved was his neck.

Like the witches, Crevan’s body seemed to be decaying at a rapid rate. His chest sunk in, spilling out what appeared to be ash.

Tolvar met his brother’s eyes. Eyes that were the same as their mother’s. Crevan’s mouth, festering and rotting, shriveled, and no words could escape. But his eyes. His eyes seemed to hold regret.

He gave a nod to Crevan, whose body disintegrated into nothing.

“Wolf,” Ghlee’s voice was the first to reach him. “Wolf, are you well?”

Tolvar winced; he definitely was not. Much of his body was left broken, and he knew he’d lost a great deal of blood. Moreso, Tolvar lifted his hand, and where the traces of Adrienne’s torture had shown, it appeared withered.

“We’ll return you to camp,” Ghlee said, helping Tolvar to stand. His legs wobbled .

Surveying the vicinity was the most horrific sight. Bodies scattered the field. Stillness surrounded them. A deadly quiet, which could only be shaped by the great exodus of the many souls who had just given their last breath to this world.

So few were left. Those who were left were either staring blankly at where Asalle should be standing or were already fleeing the field, as if they might, in their escape, forget that of which they’d been a part.

Where Asalle had stood sprawled a continuation of the countryside as if the city had ne’er been. Not its walls, nor docks, nor anything that would hint at its existence remained.

Alvie stood next to them. “That was somethin’. Fact o’matter, no one is goin’ to believe this.”

The two nodded in agreement. Words lost.

Hux, Elanna, and the others joined. Everyone simply stared, disbelieving that their quest was fulfilled. That the magic of Asalle’s Light was safe.

The cool autumn breeze brushed against the back of Tolvar’s neck.

“Let’s get you to camp, Lord Wolf,” Hux said, taking an arm around his middle.

“I am well. I wish to take a walk.”

“A walk?” Alvie exclaimed. “What for? I want to take a nap!”

Exhausted snickering followed.

“I shall come with you then,” Ghlee said, placing a hand on Tolvar’s shoulder.

“Nay, I wish to be alone.”

Ghlee nodded in understanding.

Tolvar put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “My thanks, brother. For everything.”

To Joss and Barrett, Tolvar inclined his head. “You have been the most loyal of knights. We would not have succeeded without you.”

Joss gave a half-smile. “We would ne’er have served any other, m’lord. We shall see you when you return to camp.”

Hux hung back. “A walk? ”

Tolvar coughed and glanced at the full moon. “Come now, Ravyn, you know what night ’tis.”

The blur between life and death.

Hux, too, gazed at the moon. “’Tis been quite an adventure.”

“Aye. I suppose ’twas not an ill decision I brought you along after all. Even if you are a Ravyn.”

Hux winked. “Even if you are an arrogant Wolf.”

Tolvar gazed after his friends as they retreated toward camp. He turned to walk south.

Elanna stood there.

“Thank you, keeper of the word. I ne’er doubted you.”

“Even when I told you I was not a praying man.” He handed her the two pieces of the Edan Stone.

“Even then.”

Elanna the Fourth. She appeared radiant, like a heavenly effigy.

“What will you do now?” he asked.

“Go into hiding. Fall into obscurity. Become a legend, eventually.”

He nodded, hunching and leaning his hands on his thighs.

“As will you, Tolvar Weslyn. The Wolf who saved the Capella Realm.”

“Hardly.” He straightened. “Look around you.”

“We see not time nor victories the same, I suppose. But trust me. ’Twas you who paved the path to the future.”

They exchanged an enduring look.

“Good-bye, Sir Tolvar.” Elanna strode away.

Tolvar did not make it far, but he found a location clean of blood near the bank of the river. For a time, he simply listened to its babbling melody. Stared at the full moon. Held Sloane’s moon cuff.

Waited.

The breeze was cooler by the water. He expected that mayhap it should cause him to shiver; he was in much worse shape than he’d led the others to believe. Yet his body grew numb. He felt nothing. No more pain.

He thought about Elanna’s words about the Wolf turning into legend.

When Tolvar had first been knighted, ’twas all he desired.

With everything that occurred on the continent over the last year, he wondered if the Legend of the Wolf and Unsung would eventually become intertwined?

The thought made his mouth twitch into a half-smile.

Tolvar was sapped. He propped himself on his hands to hold himself upright.

Would this work?

He was not a praying man.

He waited.

Tolvar.

He held his breath.

Unlike the form of his father, whom he’d perceived the previous year, Tolvar was not frightened of the vision of Sloane standing before him under the moonlight of the Falling Leaves.

Her stature was as it’d been, small and delicate. Determined and pure.

She beamed at him.

He drew in a breath and reached for her.

She took his hand.