Page 14 of Tempting the Fae Lord (The Gatekeeper’s Weakness)

Chapter Thirteen

Gale

This isn’t the Ezra I know. This demon looks feral, half-covered in dirt, the other half in blood, hair in tangled clumps, eyes wild as a wolf gone rabid.

“Let him go!” Ezra roars, voice resounding through the valley in a powerful burst.

Beside me, Sonja laughs. Not the laugh I recognize from our polite conversation over tea, but a laugh filled with festering hatred. Like she’s another person.

“Your thrall is here of his own free will,” she says. “It is not I who chains him. That’s your doing.”

Chain me? Nobody’s ever chained me.

“You touch a hair on his head, and you’ll live to regret it,” he yells from afar.

“What is happening?” I dart my gaze back and forth between them—the man I’ve known my whole life, my protector, the object of my secret affection—and the fae changeling who I’ve only just met, but feel the stirrings of a nascent bond with already.

Each glowering at the other with unfettered loathing.

Sonja and I look down on the battle from a perch on an open mound of granite. A knot tightens deep in my gut. My throat clenches. Ezra is surrounded by death. Corpses still covered in grave dirt close in from all sides.

Panic claws at my ribcage. Fearing for his life, I grab Sonja’s arm. “Stop this. Please. Call them off.”

She glares at me but doesn’t pull away. “And let him kill me? Is that what you want?”

That is not what I want. “I won’t let him.” Her laughter is beginning to irritate me. “I won’t!”

She shakes her head. “You’re his thrall, Gale, not the other way around. He holds all the power. You have none.”

She’s wrong about that, but convincing her will have to wait. I watch Ezra defend himself against the massive herd, one against hundreds, and somehow he’s holding his own. Somehow, he’s winning.

“How are you doing this?” I ask.

“I’m not.” She nods to our right, where a young man shakes with tension, arms extended toward the battle. “The bone caller is.”

A chill grips my spine. Bone caller. Yikes. I gather my courage to face him and march his way.

“Gale, where are you going?” Sonja grabs the fabric of my coat, but I lurch out of her grasp.

“You have to stop,” I beg of the quaking mage, who doesn’t even look my way. “Please. The Gatekeeper means you no harm. Call off the hoard.”

“Can’t,” he grunts. “She owns me.”

“Shut your mouth,” says Sonja.

“Owns?” I cringe.

“Gale!” Ezra’s voice claims my full attention. “Run for cover!”

“I’m fine,” I yell as loud as my voice will carry, hoping he hears me. The last thing I want is for him to lose focus worrying about me when he’s the one in the middle of a starving throng of undead.

The wind carries a vile stench uphill. The urge to gag rises, but I swallow it down and turn to Sonja. “What does he mean by ‘owns’?”

The bone caller looks as if he’s going to keel over and join his rotting army any second now. He’s thin. Too thin. And ragged. Dark circles crescent beneath glowing copper eyes.

“He owes me a life debt,” says Sonja. “Which he’s paying right now.”

I don’t like that sound of that. “Paying…how?”

“He owes me his life, and so he must serve for his life,” she says as if this is a reasonable conclusion to draw. “I’ve tasked him to capture your master for me. If he does well, I might consider his early release.”

I cast my gaze toward Ezra, who fights like a wild boar only to inch forward, slow as a snail, then toward the bone caller, who’s giving every ounce of his strength, then to Sonja, whose fierce stare would surely launch daggers at Ezra if it could.

This is crazy. I take her shoulders and squeeze until I have her full attention. “You must stop this. You’re killing your servant, not the Gatekeeper. End this, and I promise I won’t let him hurt you.”

She trails her petite pointer finger over my cheek. “So young. So confident.” She slaps me. “So wrong.”

I flinch back, my hand on my cheek.

“Gale, run!” Ezra drives his blades into creature after creature. This is what’s been keeping him here. Night after night, fighting death itself, all to protect that stupid gate. And from what? An angry lost fae who only wants to find her family?

I turn to Sonja. “We need to talk.”

“Talking solves nothing.”

“Have you even tried?”

“He’s not exactly a good listener.”

The snap of Ezra’s wings catches my attention. As he takes to the air, so too does the throng of animated carcasses.

My jaw hangs open.

Forget Sonja. I’ll stop the bone caller myself. I don’t want to hurt him, but maybe he can’t command what he can’t see. It’s worth a try.

I duck, grab two fistfuls of dirty snowpack, and lunge for his eyes.

Sonja’s magic explodes at the nape of my neck, but she’s too late. The dirty snow hits its mark. The bone caller stumbles backward, even as I collapse to the ground.

He reaches to catch himself. Instinct. His spell breaks.

Bodies plummet to the earth with one sickening thud after another. Sonja’s panicked scream pierces my ears as her magic sears through my limbs, a painful spasm taking hold of my body.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh, the sound of Ezra flying fast. “Hold on, Gale. I’m coming!”

The magic seeps out of me, the pain residing with it. I blink open my eyes. Sonja is aiming at Ezra now. “Don’t! You’re no match for him.”

I’m not sure how I know that, but I feel it down to the core of my being. There might not be any magic running in my veins, but I’ve felt hers, and I’ve felt his. He’ll kill her if given the chance.

“Ezra. Help!” I stay down, though I’m free of her spell. If I distract him, maybe we can get out of this with everyone alive.

Well, except for the massive amount of already dead people, erm, may they rest in peace.

“Bone caller! Do something,” Sonja orders.

The faltering mage struggles to his feet. Ezra swoops in. Sonja aims.

The night sky snaps and sizzles with their combined sorcery.

My eyes sting. I’m blinded. In the darkness, terror blooms bright. “Ezra?”

“I’m here.” Strong arms grasp me and lift. His scent hits my nostrils.

I clutch his chest. “Don’t hurt her.”

“What?” he asks, but I know he heard me. “This may be my only chance.”

“Please.”

A feral growl vibrates low in his chest. The wind catches beneath us, rushing in as his wings beat, and we’re weightless, as though the ground simply snapped away.

“Hold on,” he barks. “I’m letting go.”

I’m already holding on, but I cling with all my might as the safety of his arms vanishes. I still can’t see what’s happening, though the inky blackness has become a sludge of gray.

We hurtle downward.

My stomach drops. I grip his neck so tight my arms hurt. As a solid weight smashes against my back, I’m forced sideways.

Another jolt of magic hits us, and pricks of pain jab my body. If it bothers Ezra, he doesn’t show it. We’re rising into the sky, faster and faster, until my insides churn and gurgle.

Please don’t throw up. Please don’t throw up. Please don’t throw up.

Sonja’s screams grow distant, and all I can think is thank the stars he didn’t kill her. If she’s mad, then she’s alive. Not that she’s on my good list right about now, but I don’t want her dead either. And I don’t want Ezra sullied with her murder.

My vision is returning. I blink, trying to focus. The weight against me sags, boneless. I twist my neck and gasp.

Ezra has snatched the bone caller, and the man is out cold.