Page 32 of Skalterra By Nightmare (The Skalterra Duology #1)

Snow blew sideways on the bitter wind that rolled over the field, but I charged through the gale. Galahad’s power roiled through me, and I made myself faster, stronger, denser to launch at Ciarán.

Fana shrieked in his arms, and I reached out to grab Ciarán by his face and forced him to the ground beneath me. A burst of green signaled Ferrin’s arrival at my side, and he pulled Fana out from between me and the Grimguard. Orange and black eyes glowed up at me from between my fingers, full of loathing.

“They ambushed us halfway across the lake.”

Ferrin threw Fana onto his back. Snow dusted his hair, and a light ice had frozen his coiffed hair in place.

“They?”

I repeated. Blue hair whipped around me in the wind, and Ciarán’s muffled scream of frustration reverberated against the palm of my hand.

“Another Grimguard?”

“Don’t make the same mistake I made in Vanderfall. Kill the Grimguards. And don’t you die too.”

He took off in a sprint, and Fana gave me a final panicked glance.

Ciarán bucked, and I pressed harder into his face. Cracks radiated out from under his body, and I realized we were on ice. Ciarán’s chest, which I had tried so hard to heal a few short weeks ago, heaved with labored breaths beneath me.

“What are you waiting for, Nightmare?”

Galahad’s voice, haggard and hoarse, carried on the wind.

“Kill the Grimguard!”

Orange eyes widened between my fingers. Ciarán stopped struggling, but he shook his head against my hand.

He’d had Fana in his clutches. He’d been so close to taking her.

And he’d continue to try until either he or she were dead.

A single blade of bone pushed through the meat of my arm, and I held it over Ciarán. He choked on my name, his voice muffled through his cowl and my hand.

“Do it, Nightmare!”

Galahad bellowed.

Ciarán shook his head again, and I hesitated.

If I killed him, he would become someone’s Riley.

He wanted to hurt my friends. He’d killed me. He’d almost ruined my interview with Von Leer.

And I couldn’t bring myself to murder him. Not when he looked so young. Not when there might be someone out there hoping he came home safe.

Pain lanced my side, and I cried out as blinding orange light forced me sideways off of Ciarán. Electricity and heat spasmed through my body. I curled in on the gaping wound in my abdomen, my face pressed against ice and snow.

I choked on my breaths as a figure sprinted towards me over the ice.

“Orla?”

I croaked, still trying to stem the blood and ash that spilled from my stomach.

The woman raised her arm towards me, aiming a crossbow that was built into her arm bracers.

A glowing arrow formed in her other hand, and she pulled it against a buzzing bowstring of neon Skal.

“Go to hell, Nightmare!”

She loosed the arrow.

I had half a second to pull Skal from Galahad to harden my armor and seal the wound in my abdomen. The arrow glanced off my kevlar, but the force of the hit knocked the wind from me a second time.

“Aim for the old man!”

Ciarán shouted from where he tried to catch his breath on the ice.

The woman Grimguard formed a new arrow, and I struggled to my feet too late. She leveled her bow arm at Galahad.

“No!”

My scream caught on the wind and did little to stop the arrow of Skal hissing through the air.

Orange sparks burst as the arrow collided with Iseult’s outstretched hand where she stood over Galahad’s injured form. The woman Grimguard slid to a halt.

Her next arrow extended into a pike, and she jammed its pointed end into the ice. Orange light shot through the cracks that spread beneath her, and the lake groaned.

I scrambled on all fours towards Iseult where she tried to drag Galahad away from the breaking ice. A red stain smeared across the snow behind him.

“Grandfather, please!”

Iseult begged.

“We have to move!”

I helped her pull Galahad to his feet, but his toes dragged in the snow between us.

“Leave me.”

His breaths were ragged.

“You have to stop the—”

“Watch out!”

Tiernan’s cry cut through the wind, and I dropped Galahad to spin and face Ciarán as he bore down on us. Behind him, Tiernan charged to our aid through snow flurries while Orla fought the woman Grimguard on collapsing, cracking ice.

I pulled a silver flail from the air and ran to meet Ciarán. He blocked my flail with an orange staff, but Tiernan attacked him from behind, forcing him to procure a second weapon to block Tiernan’s golden sword.

“Help Iseult get Galahad out of here!”

I formed a second flail in my left hand. Ciarán’s Skal spread into a shield, but the force of my attack knocked him backwards towards Tiernan.

“I will not leave the Sovereign!”

Tiernan protested. Ciarán blocked his next attack with ease, still holding me at bay with his shield.

“Great, because she left you! Ferrin escaped with her already. Take Galahad. I’ll keep the Grimguards busy.”

Serrated bones pushed their way through muscle, skin, and leather to erupt from my forearms. Tiernan kicked Ciarán back my way, and Ciarán lifted his shield to ward off the spikes I brought swinging down.

Skal sizzled, and the smell of burning bone stung my sinuses, but my strength swelled as I pulled more magick from Galahad. His injured state made it too easy to control the tide of Skal between us, and I let the magick swell and roll through me. I pressed harder into the shield, forcing Ciarán onto one knee.

“I’ve got this!”

I shouted at Tiernan. “Go!”

He hesitated, but a blast of green and orange from Orla’s fight with the woman spurred him towards Iseult and Galahad.

“Running won’t save the old man,”

Ciarán growled at me through his shield.

“You’re only delaying the inevitable!”

“The inevitable being you?”

I turned my foot into steel and brought it smashing down into the ice. The ground cracked beneath us, forcing Ciarán to scramble away.

His shield evaporated with his broken focus, and I swung my fist into his jaw. He staggered back and pulled his cowl down from his face.

“Yes!”

He spit blood into the snow. “Me!”

His orange eyes focused on the receding shapes of Iseult and Tiernan with Galahad between them. He lunged, taking off across the ice in a sprint, but I was faster.

I tackled him around his middle, and we collapsed against the frozen lake in a tangle of cloaks, limbs, and blue hair.

I wouldn’t hesitate this time. He had to die. He would kill me. He would kill my friends.

“I’m sorry,”

I said, and leveled my bone spike with Ciarán’s pale neck.

“You aren’t going to kill me, Blue.”

I shook my head at him.

“Just because you’ve been in my head the last two weeks doesn’t mean you know me.”

“Then why aren’t I dead yet?”

His chapped lips pulled into an arrogant smile.

I withdrew my bone spike and forced Skal into my hand to form a lethal claw.

“Careful, Nightmare,”

Galahad’s growl in the back of my head caught me off guard, and I faltered before I could bring my talons swinging down.

“Don’t take too much Skal too fast.”

He pulled back on the magick I’d siphoned away from him, and my strength evaporated.

Ciarán sensed my moment of weakness and swept his leg up and into my torso.

I slammed into the snow, and Ciarán rolled on top of me, pinning my hands above my head.

“Having problems with your handler?”

he goaded.

“Screw you.”

I struggled under his weight and tried to draw on the magick tether between me and Galahad, but Galahad pushed back.

Ciarán froze on top of me, staring at my hands where he had them pinned.

“Your hand.”

Ciarán’s orange eyes widened as he took in the scars on my palm.

“Blue, you let the old man curse you?”

“Get off me!”

“How many lives did he give you?”

His initial shock at the discovery ebbed away to be quickly replaced by morbid curiosity.

“How many have you got left before he lets you die for him?”

“Enough to last long enough to kill you.”

His smile quirked, and his eyes softened.

“Ah, Blue. You’ve had plenty of opportunities to do that, and we both know you won’t.”

He leaned in close so that his nose was inches from mine, and his warm breath washed over my cheeks.

“But don’t you worry. I’ll make sure the old man pays for what he did to you.”

“I won’t let you kill my friends!”

His taunting smile dissolved into a snarl, and his fingernails dug into the skin of my wrists.

“Killers get killed. Call it an occupational hazard.”

“You’re the killer!”

“You really think so?”

His voice turned as frigid as the ice that pressed against my back.

“Even after Ferrin told you how he butchered the other Grimguards? After you watched him kill Daithi?”

“Occupational hazard,” I spat.

Ciarán’s eyes narrowed.

“I like you, Blue. It was fun being in your head, and you proved very useful. I hope for both our sakes you’ve got more than one life left, because you keep getting in the way, and you refuse to yield. Unfortunately, that leaves me with so few options.”

He closed the few inches between the tip of my nose and his lips. The tiny kiss was cold against my skin. He used one hand to hold my wrists overhead, and an orange knife sparked in his free fist.

“Galahad!”

I screamed, twisting beneath Ciarán, trying to get away. I didn’t want to die for him.

“Don’t tell me.”

Ciarán flashed a haughty smile and played with the knife in his hand.

“This is your last life, isn’t it?”

“Galahad, help!”

I clawed at the invisible tether between Galahad and me. I needed his Skal. He owed me his Skal.

“You were always expendable to him, Blue. He doesn’t need you anymore, so he’s taken his Skal and left you to die.”

“No.”

Galahad didn’t like me, sure, but he wouldn’t let me die. Not like this.

“You could still save yourself.”

His grin showed off his canines.

“You could always yield to me.”

“I’d rather die.”

I pressed into the ice, but there was no escape.

“I don’t believe that. Not when you’re on your last life.”

He held the glowing blade to my neck so I could feel its heat.

“Yield, Blue. Become my Nightmare, and we’ll work together to bring those killers to heel.”

“Go to—”

“Go to hell, yes. I know.”

He drew back his knife, preparing to bring it down across my neck.

If Galahad wouldn’t let me have his magick, I’d force him to give it to me. I gave a final, mighty heave on the tether.

Magick sparked in my fingertips and rushed through my veins, filling me with sudden power and strength.

“Nightmare!”

Galahad’s voice was a warning bark, but another wave of magick ran through me, and my fingers elongated into claws. Ciarán’s eyes widened, and he realized too late that my strength had returned.

I used the same leg sweep he’d used on me, but he managed to scramble away, slipping on the ice.

“You’re done hunting us.”

My bone spikes were back, even though I hadn’t felt them come in. My leather boots strained and popped as my feet grew into hind claws. Skin thickened into scales, and Ciarán staggered back, brandishing a staff of glowing orange.

Galahad was full of fresh Skal, and now that I’d broken the dam he built to keep it from me, he couldn’t control its flow anymore.

He couldn’t control me.

“Look what they’ve turned you into, Blue,”

Ciarán growled. Bits of black hair hung loose from his collapsing bun, and his lips pressed together. He was putting on a brave face, but his orange eyes widened, and the sharp stench of fear that rolled off him was nauseatingly satisfying.

“I’m stronger than I’ve ever been!”

I lunged at him, and he tried to parry with his staff, but I batted it away with a kevlar-armored arm.

“They’ve made you into a weapon.”

He danced out of reach of my outstretched claws.

“If you could see yourself—”

Something hot broke across my back, and I spun around to find the woman Grimguard. Her eyes glowed a more neon orange than Ciarán’s, but she had the same dark sclera. Curly hair hung down from under her fur-lined hood, and the cowl that covered the bottom half of her face only did so much to hide the freckles that covered her cheeks.

An orange bludgeon formed in her hands, but I drew more Skal from Galahad’s stores and caught the weapon in my claws. It burned against my palms, but I reinforced the skin of my hands and squeezed.

The weapon exploded in a burst of sparks, and I reached through shattered light to grab the woman by her face and throw her backwards.

“Wren!”

Orla staggered over broken ice, trying to get closer.

“Wren, be careful!”

“Get out of here!”

I yelled back, but there was something new and harsh in my voice. "I’ve got it handled!”

“No, you don’t!”

The fear on the Grimguards’ faces had fueled me, but the stricken look on Orla’s made me falter. Her jaw dropped, and she shook her head, but I turned back to Ciarán to launch at him yet again.

My claws left shimmering gashes in the orange shield he held between us, but I couldn’t reach him. I pulled more magick from Galahad.

It was intoxicating, and I needed more.

“Wren Warrender,”

Galahad gasped in my mind.

“would you really kill me?”

I wasn’t killing him. I was just taking his magick to hold off the Grimguards.

“To save both our realms?”

I snarled back, parroting what he had said to me my first day in Skalterra. “Gladly.”

The woman attacked again, having regained her bearings, this time with a broadsword. It was just as easy to stop as her bludgeon, and it hurt less this time. The sword evaporated into neon steam in my hands, and I breathed deep, inhaling the remnant of the Skal that had formed it.

I needed more.

Panic nudged at the back of my head, but it was dulled by the hunger that roiled in my gut.

“Wren!”

Orla shrieked. She sounded far away, and I tried to find her, but the snow flurried harder around me. Silver sparks illuminated my claws, and my stomach churned at the sight of dead gray skin creeping up my fingers.

“Orla?”

I called back. Ciarán and his friend were gone, lost in the storm of snow and Skal, but Orla was in danger. My panic screamed now, but the hunger was still louder.

“Orla, run! I can’t—”

I cut off in a guttural cry as more Skal ricocheted through my body. I was splitting apart. The Skal was stripping me away, but I couldn’t stop myself from siphoning more.

Galahad was supposed to stop me.

Why wasn’t he stopping me?

I pulled at the connection, and Galahad pulled back, trying to stopper the flow of magick, but it was too late. I’d overpowered him. His Skal was mine, and it was burning me up.

I needed more.

I would become a rotsbane, but I needed more. I would die if I didn’t get more, and every bit of Skal filled me with terrible elation and insatiable hunger.

“Blue!”

Ciarán’s voice split the storm of ice and Skal.

“Wren Warrender!”

Tattered cloaks and shoulder-length dark hair whipped around him as he fought his way into my vortex. I should kill him. I was supposed to kill him. But I was fraying. Every molecule inside me was unraveling. If I moved, I was sure to fall apart.

“Wren, you need to stop!”

Ciarán called.

“I can’t!”

I couldn’t tell if the outlines of my arms were blurred by the snow or if they were dissolving into something amorphous and shadowy.

I was collapsing in on myself, but exploding outwards all at once.

And I was so hungry.

“Then let me stop you!”

Ciarán held his hands up in a show of good faith, and dared to step closer. He had bottles of Skal on his belt, and I salivated at the thought of downing them, glass and all.

It wouldn’t be enough, but it was a start.

“You can’t stop me,”

I said through gritted teeth. Galahad had more Skal. I could feel it floating on the ether between us. I reached for it. If I didn’t, I was sure whatever beast that was clawing at my insides would break free.

But the Skal made the beast wilder, and I cried out.

I wanted Skal. I did not want to be a rotsbane.

I didn’t know which of the two would win out over the other.

I couldn’t help myself. I pulled more Skal from Galahad. He would dry up soon. He was saying so in my head, but his voice was muted and faraway.

He would die.

I would kill him.

It would be worth it.

“I can take it away!”

Ciarán said.

“But you have to yield to me!”

“You’ll kill me,” I sobbed.

“No,”

he promised.

“I told you. Killers get killed, and you’re not a killer, and you’re not going to be a rotsbane either. You just have to yield.”

“You were going to! Just now!”

“I was messing with you! Wren Warrender, I command you to yield!”

His voice reverberated as he spoke aloud as well as directly into my head through our connection.

“Get out!”

Gams would find me dead on the floor of Liam’s bedroom, and it might be worth it if it meant sating the hunger that gnashed inside me.

“I see them in your head.”

Ciarán inched closer, fighting to stay upright in the swirling sparks and snow.

“All the people you love. They won’t see you again if you give in to the rotsbane! Give in to me instead!”

“No!”

“You have a mother, and a grandmother!”

Ciarán continued. He took my hands. My fingers with their dark talons and deadened knuckles looked so monstrous wrapped in his, and I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.

“And you have friends!”

“I don’t,”

I whimpered. Everything hurt. Skal would make it better. Only more Skal could help me.

“I can see him right now inside your mind, Blue, and I see how much you care about him and your mother and your grandmother.”

“Just kill her!”

the woman Grimguard yelled. Another arrow of orange flew through the flurry, but it dissolved into delicious smoke before it could split me open. I inhaled, savoring the way the Skal filled my sinuses and lungs.

I. Needed. More.

I needed to die.

“I’m not going to kill you. Not if you yield.”

Ciarán’s bright orange and black eyes filled my vision.

“But you have to give me control.”

The hunger tore me from the inside out, and the scream that issued from my throat didn’t sound human. I’d never wanted something more in my entire life.

Not Von Leer. Not a friend. Not a father who gave a damn.

Just Skal.

“Wren Warrender, yield!”

“You just want to use me!”

“So? Is that worth turning into a rotsbane over?”

“Yes!”

He clawed his way up my arms to wrap himself around me. He held me in one piece, pressed into me with his cheek against mine.

“You are not a killer.”

His breath was warm in my ear.

“You are not a monster, and I will not let the real monsters turn you into one.”

“Ciarán,”

I gasped. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Ciarán, help me.”

“Yield.”

“I—”

I didn’t want to yield. I wanted Skal. I wanted to devour every last drop, and rip apart anything and anyone that stood in my way. I wanted to burn all of Skalterra and Keldori to the ground in search of it. I wanted—

“Wren. Please.”

The voice in my ear was Ciarán’s, but the voice in my head was someone else’s. The sound of Liam begging pulled me back to my senses just long enough for me to gasp out two syllables.

“I yield.”

The words were barely audible, but Ciarán’s arms tightened around me as my stomach flipped. Every bit of magick that threatened to tear me apart fled down the channel that opened between us. My body snapped back into place, and my legs gave out.

He lowered me to the snow. The chill of the ice bit against the exposed skin of my feet, arms, and face. Shivers that had nothing to do with the cold wracked my body.

“You tricked me,”

I choked. He’d imitated Liam in my head to snap me out of my hunger, but I hated the thought of Liam’s voice in Ciarán’s throat.

“I saved you.”

The orange in Ciarán’s eyes shined brighter than before, and sparks blew off his back in the wind. His hand buzzed with electricity where it cupped my cheek. He was teeming with the Skal he’d stolen from me.

The Skal I’d given him.

And now I was at his mercy with no magick left.

“You saved yourself,”

I whispered.

“Don’t touch her!”

Orla's shriek echoed over the ice.

“Wren, watch out!”

She hurled a javelin of emerald green towards Ciarán, and he fell away from me to avoid getting caught in its trajectory.

“I told you to run!”

I shouted at Orla as she sprinted towards me. It wasn’t safe here, especially now that I belonged to the Grimguards. She needed to get to the others. She needed to get away from me.

“Orla, go!”

But she continued her charge, sliding to a stop in front of me with her arms outstretched. The hiss of Skal zipping through the air was cut by a soft thunk, and I stared in horror at the luminescent arrow that protruded from her back.

“Orla—”

She fell to her knees. I scrambled through the snow to catch her. “Orla!”

The arrow in her chest dissipated, and blood dripped from the gaping wound it left behind, staining the snow. She gasped for air through shuddering, gulping breaths, and I rallied the last dregs of strength I had left to hold her up.

“What’ve you done?” I cried.

“You only have one life left,”

she mumbled.

“She was going to take it.”

The woman Grimguard was already nocking another arrow, and I tried to pull Orla to her feet.

“We can’t stay here!”

She leaned heavily on me, but green fire sparked in her hand.

“I will not let you die in a fight you didn’t sign up for, Just-Wren,”

she grunted.

“They killed my mother. Let them kill me too. Promise me you’ll run.”

“No!”

She shoved me off her, and I collapsed on the ice. I begged my limbs to move, but I was too weak to give chase. I screamed at Orla’s back as she staggered forward to face the Grimguards.

Ciarán and the woman converged on her, weapons of orange blazing against the white of the frozen lake.

“Orla!”

Orla lifted her green flame. It expanded until she was a dark silhouette against a backdrop of emerald. I screamed her name again.

Purple light flickered at the core of her flame and then expanded outwards to swallow the lake in a mosaic of amethyst fire and ice.