Page 27 of Skalterra By Nightmare (The Skalterra Duology #1)

Urian clung to the lip of the edge, and more orange lights flashed above him. Dread sat heavy in my stomach, rooting me to the spot.

Ciarán had caught up. He had found us.

And it was my fault.

“You told me you weren’t followed!”

Iseult yelled at Galahad, already running for the stairs.

“We weren’t!”

Galahad pulled his goggles into place and downed one of his fresh bottles of Skal. I hesitated, unsure if I should stay with him or follow Iseult, but he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his duster and pointed at the stairs.

“What are you doing, Nightmare? Go!”

I raced after Iseult just as an armor-clad figure leapt from the stairwell. His eyes were passive and his face blank, but he held an orange scythe ahead of him.

He swung the glowing blade at Iseult. She caught it like she had when Tiernan had attacked her, and the weapon burst into bits of glowing dust. Iseult thrust her hand through the debris to grab the Nightmare by his face, and he collapsed in a pile of ash.

“So much for you being the only Nightmare down here in fifty years,”

she growled at me.

I looked back at Galahad where he stood at the edge of the pool.

“I said go!”

he grunted.

I took the steps two at a time, racing after Iseult.

“Ciarán?”

I dared to ask the stairwell. I waited for his voice in my head, but the only sounds were the yells and blasts echoing outside of the Sanctum. On the off chance he was there, lurking in the corners of my mind, I growled a warning.

“This better not be you, asshole.”

A dark chuckle vibrated at the back of my mind.

“Or what, Blue?”

Ciarán’s rasping purr sent a chill down my spine, and turned my muscles heavy with anger and fear.

I reached the top of the stairs in time to see another two Nightmares crumble under Iseult’s touch. She fell next to the edge of the open floor. Urian’s hands gripped the stone as Iseult tried to pull him up by his wrists.

“Your armor,”

she gasped.

“It’s too heavy!”

Another wave of Nightmares came up the Sanctum steps, and Iseult abandoned Urian to defend the doors. She pivoted on her real leg to bring her Skal prosthesis swinging into the first two Nightmares as she grabbed another two and turned them to dust.

“I’ve got you!”

I took her spot over Urian and strength flowed through my muscles, aided by Galahad’s fresh Skal. I grabbed Urian’s arms and heaved. His metal armor grated over stone, and I dropped him at Iseult’s feet.

I paused to stare down at Galahad where he still stood by the pool below us. He held a bottle aloft, as if toasting to me, and then drank up. I bit my lip, the story of Balin and his doomed Nightmares still fresh on my mind, and a fresh wave of power rolled through my limbs.

“There’s more!”

Urian pushed himself up onto his hands to point through the open door at the small horde of Nightmares running down the street towards the Sanctum.

“How many Nightmares did this guy make?”

Iseult hissed.

“I made enough,”

Ciarán sang in my head.

“I can make them go away, Blue. All you have to do is yield, and I’ll leave Tulyr alone.”

“He has to run out of Skal eventually,”

I said, ignoring Ciarán.

Leather and skin tore open along my arms as I armed myself with my favorite spikes of bone.

“Very well.”

Ciarán’s voice turned poisonous.

“We’ll do this the hard way.”

Orange lights burst in the sky over the southern lip of the crater, and I felt like I was back on the parapet under siege my first night in Skalterra. Screams echoed over the ruins as orange flames lit the grand staircase that led in and out of the city.

“Urian, where is the Sovereign?”

Iseult’s wide eyes reflected the distant orange light.

“I sent them to—”

“Don’t!”

I pressed my hands against my ears, not wanting to give Ciarán any more information than I already had. Iseult and Urian stared at me, but the new wave of Nightmares had reached the Sanctum steps, sparing me from an awkward explanation.

Urian slapped his helmet visor into place, and Iseult led the charge down the stone stairs. The first few Nightmares collapsed at her touch, and she slammed her silver leg into the Nightmares that rose to take their place.

I followed the Lyrians into the fray, wielding my bone shards ahead of me like pikes. I focused on the thought of the Nightmares waking up in their beds back at home, safe and warm, rather than linger on the way their bodies resisted my serrated bones. For being made of dust and magick, they felt horribly real.

Galahad’s magick surged through me again, and I directed it to the muscles in my legs, forcing myself deeper into the tangle of Nightmares.

They were armored in leather and each Nightmare carried a different weapon, but they lacked the wits to move quickly or react to our attacks. What they lacked in formidability, however, they made up for in numbers.

An armored Nightmare grabbed me from behind to tackle me to the ground. My arm spikes snapped off against the stone steps, and the Nightmare’s blank stare reflected the orange light of the dagger in her hands.

She brought the dagger swinging down, but I caught her by the wrist and tried to force her hands away. She was stronger than I anticipated, but another wave of Skalmagick rolled down the bond between me and Galahad.

“Yield, Blue, and this will all be over,”

Ciarán hissed in my head.

I threw the Nightmare off with renewed strength, and she crashed into the Nightmares behind her. A flail fizzled into shape in my hand, brighter than I remembered it being the last time I’d summoned one, and I swung it into her skull.

The Nightmare crumbled to dust under my attack.

“A bit brutal, don’t you think?”

Iseult asked, dissolving another pair of Nightmares.

“Brutal?”

I swung the flail into another attacker, trying to remember the LARPing videos I’d studied.

“It’s quick. Besides, Galahad says they can’t feel anything.”

“Do you feel it?”

Iseult’s shoulder pressed against me as we fought Nightmares side by side.

“When you get hurt here?”

“It’s different,”

I grunted.

“I’m lucid. They’re not. It’s just a bad dream to them.”

“Is this not just a bad dream to you too?”

“Not if there’s a chance Galahad accidentally turns me into a rotsbane tonight.”

“Then it’s more than a bad dream to them too. If you turn into a rotsbane, you’ll devour their consciousnesses.”

“I don’t need you to lecture me about Nightmares.”

I sliced through three of them at once as Iseult protected me from a swinging sword.

“I know firsthand how crappy it is to be one of us, and at least they get the luxury of not remembering any of this.”

“I’m not lecturing anyone. I only commented on the brutality of your choice of weapon.”

My leather armor hardened into kevlar at my bidding. New bone shards grew through the gashes the old ones had left in my arms, and I worked Galahad’s magick into my hands to create talons.

“Is this better?” I asked.

“I don’t know,”

she admitted.

“I think we’d all be better off without Nightmares.”

“Lady Iseult!”

Urian’s cry came from behind us, and we both turned to see him grappling with a Nightmare on the top stop while another three ran past him into the Sanctum.

“Protect Lady Lyria!”

Iseult abandoned the steps to chase after the Nightmares who’d made it past us. More Nightmares surged up the steps, and the force of a blow to my back knocked me to my knees.

I sliced through limb and tendon to force my way back up. Galahad’s magick roiled inside me, and a distant, familiar hunger burned in my veins.

A swarm of Nightmares intercepted Iseult and pinned her against the Sanctum wall. They brought their weapons arcing downwards, but every blade dissipated into nothingness as it made contact with her skin.

“Iseult!”

I reached through bodies with lethal talons and dared to pull more of Galahad’s magick. My skin hardened with scales like an alligator’s, and orange weapons deflected off of me as renewed strength propelled me forward.

“Don’t!”

Iseult yelled in warning. The Nightmare pinning her on her right side brushed against her face, and then crumbled into dust. He was quickly replaced.

“If you touch me right now—”

I would die. Her Skalbreaking ability would not discern between me and the other Nightmares. Frustration mounted inside me, bringing with it more strength from Galahad. I tried to cut down the Nightmares that surrounded Iseult, but there were too many.

More power from Galahad. More strength. A swelling hunger that drove my arm spikes into another wave of Nightmares.

And then, the sizzle of Skal against Skal.

Nightmares wielding weapons of silver light rushed from the Sanctum to push against the tide of Ciarán’s army.

Galahad had sent reinforcements.

Painful, acidic greed tore at my insides. Something metallic and delicious wafted on the air, and I breathed the scent in.

Skal.

I could smell it, swirling below us in Lyria’s pool.

I needed it.

“Careful, Blue.”

Ciarán’s voice was back in my head.

“The old man is overfeeding you.”

Silver sparks flew into the air as I tried to get rid of the Skal in my veins. I would not let the hunger win.

“Iseult!”

I caught my breath on the steps, watching Galahad’s Nightmares fight against Ciarán’s.

“Get your grandpa. Take him to the others. I’ll make sure no one follows you.”

Skal sent a shudder through my body, but I had the hunger under control. For now.

“I’m right here, Nightmare,”

Galahad boomed behind me. He stood in the doorway to the Sanctum, lit by the several belts-worth of Skal bottles he wore at his waist.

“Urian, where did you send the Riftkeepers?”

Iseult hurried to her grandfather’s side, and he leaned against her. Exhaustion weighed on his face, and I wondered what sort of toll making so many Nightmares had taken on him.

“The boathouse, Lady Iseult.”

Urian staggered to his feet. Blood ran from beneath his helmet, but he otherwise seemed unharmed.

Iseult stepped away from Galahad to take Urian’s armored hand in hers.

“I think I will miss you the most, my friend.”

She bent to kiss his hand, and he recoiled.

“You aren’t leaving.”

He pushed his visor up to better see.

“Lady Iseult—”

“I failed Tulyr tonight.”

She pushed silver hair back from her face to look at me with hard gray eyes.

“And my grandfather may have abandoned me four years ago, but I won’t abandon him. He’s my only family. I will make sure he and the Divine Sovereign find safety. Tell the others—”

“Don’t,”

Urian begged. “Please.”

“Lyrguards have only ever brought sorrow upon our home. I was no different. Tell the others I’m sorry.”

“Iseult—”

Galahad started.

“No,”

she cut him off as she slipped back under his arm to support him.

“I couldn’t follow you the last time you left Tulyr. This time, I can.”

Galahad sighed in defeat and looked to me.

“How many lives do you have left?” he asked.

“Two.”

He nodded, as if satisfied by my answer.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow night, Nightmare.”

More of Ciarán’s army charged through the street, mowing down Galahad’s Nightmares.

“We’ll lead them away.”

Urian slapped his visor back into place.

“Lady Iseult, it’s been an honor.”

I turned away from Iseult and Galahad before I saw which direction they went. I didn’t like that Galahad asked how many lives I had left. If he kept drinking the Skal at his belts, I could survive the night.

“This way, Nightmare!”

Urian ran with a limping gait, holding his longsword high to light our path. I looked back to make sure Ciarán’s Nightmares that had broken past Galahad’s ranks were following us, but a cry brought my attention back forward.

Nightmares charged from around a corner ahead of us, turning the street orange with the glow of their weapons. Urian crumpled under them, and I charged, channeling the Skal I had left back into talons, claws, and swollen muscles.

The Nightmares collapsed under my attack, and I stood over Urian as I continued to hold them off.

“How are there so many?”

he croaked in the dirt. A swipe of my talons sliced through three Nightmares at once, and I shook my head.

No matter how many of Ciarán’s Nightmares I destroyed, there were always more to take their place.

A blow to my back knocked me away from Urian, and I caught myself in the dirt. I drove my arm blades through the Nightmares that fell over me. They rushed at us from every direction, and I burned through the Skal in my veins faster than I could keep up.

Then, as one, the Nightmares stopped their advance. They stood around me, blank faced and waiting, though I didn’t know what for. I could’ve cut them down where they stood, but even though I knew they would wake up safe in their beds, I couldn’t bring myself to attack an enemy that wasn’t fighting back.

“Tired yet?”

Ciarán’s voice sounded as clear as if he were standing beside me.

“Where are you?”

“Somewhere you can’t fight me with those nasty spikes of yours.”

His low chuckle reverberated in the back of my head.

“I saved your life,”

I snarled.

“and you used me!”

“That’s funny, I remember helping you. Same way I’m going to help you now. Let’s have a rest, Blue. You’ve earned it.”

“Go to hell.”

I spun around, searching for him even though I knew he wouldn’t be there.

“I won’t let any harm come to you. It’ll be okay.”

“Or you can come out and fight me yourself, coward.”

I tried to draw more of Galahad’s power into my limbs as I prepared to go down fighting. I still had two lives left. Even if I died tonight, I’d be okay. And if I did lose a life tonight, it would be worth it if it meant making Ciarán regret using me.

I would make him wish he’d died in that Vanderfall alley.

However, the waves of power from Galahad were dwindling, and when I pulled on the magick between us, I was met with dregs of energy that fizzled and died in my fingertips.

He’d made his escape. He didn’t need to keep feeding me Skal. I’d stayed behind to help them get away, and he’d abandoned me knowing I would still have one life to spare.

I didn’t know why I was surprised.

“Wren Warrender, Prospective Von Leer Viking.”

Ciarán’s voice cut the silence that had fallen over the broken city.

“Yield, or watch the Lyrian die and what’s left of Tulyr burn.”

Urian looked up at me from where Ciarán’s Nightmares held him against cracked cobblestones. For all his armor and pretty silver weapons, he’d been hiding in Tulyr for decades, just like every other Lyrian. He was likely the best warrior Tulyr’s ruins had to offer, but he was not a fighter.

“Don’t hurt him,” I said.

“That’s up to you, Blue.”

“Who are you talking to?”

Urian grunted into the dirt. I ignored him.

“How do I know you won’t hurt him after I yield?”

I asked. Ciarán didn’t know I was out of Skal. If he did, he might burn down the whole place anyway.

“How do I know Tulyr is safe?”

“You don’t.”

I tried to count the Nightmares. There were definitely too many for me to fight off without more magick.

But if Ciarán brought me to his side, even if it was as his pet, I could fight him.

A Nightmare raised an orange scythe over Urian’s neck, and the knight screwed his eyes shut.

“Fine!”

I shouted at the night. “I yield.”

“Excellent choice.”

The Nightmares that pinned Urian against the ivy-laden street dissolved first, and then the rest followed, falling in a wave of dust. Urian blinked up at me as he pushed himself up out of their ashes.

The night stilled, and for a moment, I thought maybe Ciarán wasn’t going to take me after all. Or maybe he’d overestimated his Nocturmancy skills, and he wasn’t able to pull me away even after I’d yielded to him.

But then some unseen force pulled at the Skalmagick buzzing through my being, gently at first, as if testing its strength. Something heaved inside me, flipping my stomach and catching my breath.

The invisible tether between me and Galahad snapped, and darkness rushed over me.

When my eyes fluttered open, I was met with bright orange irises set against black sclera.

“There she is,”

Ciarán said under his black cowl.

“Welcome back, Blue. Did you miss me?”