The sun is slowly setting, but it’s going to be several hours before the world I know vanishes under the veil of darkness. I keep going, aware the temperature dropped significantly. The air changes, growing heavy and cold, licking my skin, and I shiver, conscious of the bitter scent that’s wafting around me. The wind keeps moving the Pixie magic further and further away from the beaten path. I glance at my blade, seeing the air around it darken with black energy. Someone’s already been here, or I’m most definitely being followed. Jared taught me even the most skilled shifter can get caught up if they rely too much on their inner creature. I know there are various breeds of wolves who live in this part of the mountains; those animals are hungry and vicious. There’ve been rumours about a wild shifter who keeps them as pets.
Pixie dust shimmers in the gloom, meandering for over an hour, before it falls down somewhere in the distance. I jump through the fallen trees and start looking around, hoping Lenin’s magic didn’t let me down. The gold dust covers a small area of a tall palm growing behind an old pine tree. Betel nut essence develops inside a grape-like fruit, several meters above the ground. I spot a bunch between the leaves and excitement rushes through my body.
I take the bow and stretch it, picking up my sharpest arrow from the stash. I close one eye, trying to find the best angle. My muscles are stretched to the max and I sense movement somewhere on my right. It’s probably another animal, and right now I can’t afford to lose my focus. Finally, I release my arrow; it cuts through the stem perfectly and fruit falls to the ground. The Pixies have done well and I have to thank them when I get back. The betel nut can burn my eyes as the toxins in the herb work like pure arsenic, but can also mess around with shifters’ heads. It has strong hallucinogen properties.
I grab as many as I can and put them inside my pocket, wiping the sweat off my forehead and pondering where to head next.
My inner creature suggests I carry on climbing towards the mountain. An hour later, sweat surges down my face and my legs are aching. Soon the path changes and the ground becomes moist and I have to climb over slippery rocks. The temperature is still dropping and I’m shivering cold. Twenty minutes later, I sit down to rest for a bit. I take a small flask from my bag. Emilia gave me an energy potion the last time I saw her in the shop. She brewed it herself a few months ago, but the shifter who was supposed to buy it never came back for it.
I take a few large gulps, mindful someone’s either following me or my senses are way too hypersensitive. The night approaches, and moonlight warms my skin; I’ve forgotten it might be a full moon tonight.
After a few moments, I’m ready to carry on, and the track isn’t getting any easier. The night’s still young and after another hour, my lids are becoming heavy. I can’t stop and go to sleep just yet; it’s too soon and I can’t let anyone get to the guard before me. Wild shifters can’t be too far from their village. At that moment I hear it—loud noises coming from the east; it sounds like a bunch of people are singing some kind of ritual song. Light radiates from the distance; I sneak over between the rocks, thinking about my strategy when someone suddenly hits me on the back of my head. I lose consciousness for a few seconds, embraced with a sharp pain slicing over my head.
I roll my body to the side when my attacker tries to hit me again, this time with a rock. Shock riddles me speechless when I notice it’s Elijah. There’s something wrong with his eyes. His irises are completely black and his skin shimmers like it’s covered with glitter.
He has a long hunter’s knife in his other hand.
“Elijah, what the hell are you doing? Get it together!” I hiss, backing away to the bushes, but he follows me with a haunted, detached look on his face.
“The Wyvern creature must die tonight,” he says, attacking again and I jump back to my feet, knowing someone must have charmed him. His energy is absent and the creature inside him has been poisoned with dark magic. It’s either me or him tonight.
Chapter 22
Double betrayal
Elijah attacks again and this time he manages to cut my left thigh with his blade. Blood pours down my leg and I gasp with pain, clenching my teeth. He paces around me like a tiger, ready for the final attack.
“What are you doing? I’m not your enemy.” I say, and I might as well be talking to the wall. He doesn’t react, doesn’t even acknowledge that he heard me.
Elijah launches himself at me again, trying to stab me directly in my gut, but I grab the knife twisting it away. For a moment we wrestle with each other; he’s completely out of control and ready to kill me.
I roar at the top of my lungs and squeeze his wrists as hard as I can, forcing him to drop his knife.
He pushes me to the ground and we both land in the bushes. I try to punch him, but he already has his long fingers around my throat. I gasp for air, kicking him with my good leg, when a white foam starts spilling down from the corner of his mouth. I don’t sense his dragon anymore, as I slowly lose touch with the world around me. Panic moves over my body, paralysing all my movements, and I know Elijah won’t stop until I’m dead.
In the background, I hear more ritual singing and try to kick him again, but my muscles refuse to obey me. Soon I’m going to slip into oblivion, dead and forgotten. I can’t die out here; my time hasn’t come yet and the duke—I have to get my revenge.
The ache and burning pain radiates from every part of my body and I see Emilia. She’s talking to me, telling me I can’t give up just yet. Without warning, Elijah’s grip around my throat finally loosens up. I manage to open my eyes again, noticing Elijah seems distracted. He’s looking around, and his irises are slowly coming back to normal. A heartbeat later, I push him off me and start punching with every bit of strength left within me.
I breathe in and out, as adrenaline courses through my body. When he doesn’t move anymore, I stop and look at my fists—blood’s dripping down my arms and I back away from him. I take a moment to catch my breath and tell myself to get it together. I check his pulse; it’s faint, and I’m suddenly relieved he’s going to live.
After going through his clothes, I find my photo in his pocket. This picture must have been taken when I still lived with my aunt and uncle. I recognise their street and my old clothes. My heartbeat races triple time. Someone wanted me dead, but why? This doesn’t make any sense. It couldn’t have been the duke, he doesn’t remember me—or maybe he acted as if I was a stranger to keep me from being suspicious.
I wipe the sweat off my forehead and circle around the trees again, trying to figure this out. Maybe this has something to do with the Wyvern clan. Elijah just said, “the Wyvern must die”. The female Troll, Eleonora, believed me to be the only one left, saying none of my brothers and sisters managed to survive. My head hurts. I have no idea what to believe anymore.
I put the picture inside my pocket and cover an unconscious Elijah with dry leaves. I can’t waste my time; I have to keep on moving. More blood pours down my leg; I experience flashes of pain and momentary paralysis all the way down to my knee. I cut a portion of my T-shirt with the knife and roll it together, wrapping it around the wound. I drink more of Emilia’s energy potion and try to numb my whole leg. Perhaps it won’t stop the bleeding completely, but at least I can keep going. I need to locate the missing guard before Sebastian.
When I reach the top of the mountain, I see an open valley at the bottom. I count at least a dozen wild shifters scattered around. The entire place is illuminated by fire torches and there are wooden sheds further away. The shifters are gathered around in a circle. Many are dancing and singing around a man who’s lying down, and looks to be tied up to a wooden block. Most of them are male, wearing loose pants and their chests are painted with bright colours. Their energy is pulsating around, clouding them in the background. They can probably sense me being as close as I am, so I invoke my invisibility spell and use it to my advantage.
I go around the edge of the mountain, trying not to look down. One wrong move and I might end up dead.
I find star leaves in my bag and start chewing them for a bit. It’s an herb that shuts down some of my magical energy and works as a shield. A wild shifter won’t be able to sense my dragon. They can’t see me, but their instincts are strong.
After some time, I manage to slide down to the valley to take a closer look at the shifter who’s probably one of the personal guards from Jorgen’s entourage. I rub my eyes a few more times to make sure I’m not hallucinating. It takes me several long moments to figure out the captured shifter isn’t a guard from the castle.
I touched the betel nut; maybe some of its magic affected me. I open the bottle of energy liquid and take a long gulp, waiting for my vision to get back to normal.
“No, it can’t be,” I whisper again, recognising the silver hair, broad shoulders and his clothes.
It’s Jorgen, and I don’t understand the meaning of this. The duke wasn’t even meant to be in Rivenna tonight. Thayer assured all of us he was traveling abroad, on urgent business. Maybe the wild shifters captured him while he was travelling with his guards.
My heart pounds in my chest and my palms are damp with sweat. I have no idea what to do. Jorgen looks like he’s unconscious; his head is hanging over his chest and he isn’t moving. I’m too far away to sense his energy; my options are pretty limited. I start to wonder why Thayer misled everyone outside the castle earlier. Perhaps he had no idea that Jorgen was captured or that the duke intentionally put himself in danger, just so he could get rescued later. I have no idea what to think about this, but one thing is clear, right now it seems like the wild shifters are controlling his magic. I know Thayer would have never agreed for Jorgen to put himself in so much danger; the Duke must have been caught off guard while he was traveling abroad. I don’t believe he would’ve staged this for entertainment purposes.
Risking his own life in order to make this task more difficult doesn’t follow any logical thinking process, but Jorgen has proven before he can very resourceful. Maybe this is an unlimited test to see which contestant is willing to risk everything in order to save him.
I move closer, cognisant I’m still protected by the invisibility spell. Sweat surges down my face. I want to figure out what’s going on here and why Thayer told everyone we had to rescue some random guard when it turns out to be the duke himself.
“Shifters! We finally captured Jorgen III from the Lindworm clan. The duke and his family believe they’re a superior breed, that they’re better than everyone in the entire Eastern World, but tonight the duke’s fate rests solely in our hands,” shouts a shifter who’s wearing the mask of a bird. His entire chest is covered with various paintings. The rest of the shifters cheer, lifting their weapons.
The duke doesn’t move. Those shifters must have blocked off his magical abilities; otherwise he would shift into his true form.
It’s my moment and my decision to make. I can just stay hidden and watch what’s going to happen to Jorgen. Maybe the wild shifters have no intention of killing him or maybe they do. Either way, I have to be patient and see how this ceremony is going to unfold. As far as my plan, I shouldn’t care what’s going to happen to him. He murdered my parents and now maybe he’s finally going to get what’s coming to him.
“You wouldn’t dare, Bratlav,” Jorgen shouts. “I’m the ruler of Rivenna and you’re occupying this land illegally. None of your people should believe you. You’re only pretending to preserve the culture of the Bethune clan.” It looks like he isn’t at all hurt, but his energy has been weakened by a spell. He glares at all the shifters around with pure fire in his eyes.
The wild shifter approaches, grabbing his large mask, ripping it off. He’s dark haired and has dark, almost brown skin with a shaggy black beard. His muscles are well defined, and it feels like he’s stealing away every ounce of the duke’s energy.
Jorgen’s watching him with a detached look on his face. Surely, this wasn’t his plan. If I rescue him then I’ll be a guaranteed winner, but I can also sit here and do nothing. He’s my parents’ killer, and because of him I was forced to live with my treacherous aunt and uncle.
“Our clan has been on this land since before the first humans settled in these parts of the Eastern World. We belong here and your people, along with humans are the occupants,” the wild shifter says as his own shifters cheer him on loudly. “And tonight you’ll atone for all the crimes committed by your people. We’ll take your source of magic and the creature who lives inside your soul. This is going to be a great punishment for all the sins committed against our clan.”
Jorgen’s face is hidden in shadow, but when he lifts his chin I see no fear in his features. I swallow hard, knowing exactly what Bratlav is planning to do. He’s going to perform the “cutting of the mage”. This ritual is unique; it doesn’t kill the shifter, it disables all of his abilities, killing his inner dragon from the inside. Only certain shifters have enough magic in them to go through with it. I’ve always believed the ritual to be made up stories to scare children—never once did I think there was any truth to it.
“You’re just a shifter, and your magic is limited,” Jorgen says, hardening his jaw. He doesn’t believe the mage is skilled enough to take away his dragon. I drag my hand through my hair, wondering if I would be able to carry on living with myself if I stand by and allow this wild mage shifter to do this to Jorgen, even though avenging my own bloodline is much more important than becoming the duke’s assistant.
Then something to my right catches my attention. I see a shifter who looks like Sebastian sneaking behind the wooden cottages. He must have gotten here after me, sensing their strong energy. It’s not going to take him long to figure out the kidnapped guard is actually the duke.
My heart pounds in my chest and I start moving even before my mind registers what’s happening.
If Sebastian stops Bratlav and rescues Jorgen first, then my whole plan will fall to pieces. I’ve been waiting eleven years for this and finally have the perfect opportunity for revenge. Losing his dragon is going to make Jorgen suffer much more than if he had lost his father. I’ve made many mistakes in the past, but I’ve never been more certain than I am now.
I just have to wait and see if Bratlav is able to deliver on his promise. Jorgen must be aware the other contestants and I are nearby, ready to rescue him. I back away towards the trees and unsheathe my new sword. Elijah has been eliminated and the other two are most likely still climbing the mountain. That gives me a window—enough to disable Sebastian.
Other shifters are dancing and singing around the duke and I put my gloves on. I take a few fruits of betel nut and crush it with my hands. I smear the juice all over my gloved hands and wait for its magical abilities to take effect. Sebastian stands watching the duke from the distance, and I sense he’s planning to shift. There are at least fifteen wild shifters running around and he won’t be able to defeat all of them. Even from the distance, his plan seems dumb.
Jorgen will never know I witnessed his dragon being ripped out of him and did nothing. By the time we go back to the castle I’ll be a hero and he’ll be no one.
“Don’t worry, my lord, your assistant is coming for you. Now that the scarred girl is dead,” Sebastian says, talking to himself when I approach him from behind. I stop abruptly, and remove my invisibility spell. Sebastian must have been the one who charmed Elijah to make sure I wouldn’t interfere. Now I’m certain this was always his plan.
“Isn’t it disappointing when you think you have it all, but in the end you lose everything? Such a shame,” I say sarcastically, loud enough for him to hear me. Right in that moment I don’t care if Sebastian is bigger and stronger. I’ve proven in the past I’m much more skilled than he is. He doesn’t scare me anymore.
He turns around and narrows his eyes at me. There’s a streak of fear in his eyes and I never felt stronger, despite my injury.
“Leave before I twist your neck, little girl. The duke promised me the job. I made an agreement with him,” Sebastian says, licking his lips. I
don’t believe anything coming from his mouth.
Jorgen would have never favoured him over me.
“Elijah is lying somewhere around here unconscious and you’re going to get hurt if you don’t stand down,” I say, keeping my hands behind me. I’m ready to take him down. I don’t want to be a killer and the betel nut can be deadly, but it’s either me or Sebastian. He won’t hesitate to end me, and I have to stay strong.
“Jorgen told the young shifter to eliminate you, but I guess the boy failed. Too bad, because now I have to finish the job myself,” Sebastian mutters and I’m shaking my head not believing Jorgen was capable of something like that. He cared for me, and Sebastian is only trying to distract me, lying through his teeth. I glance at my injured thigh and without warning I unleash my fire, but Sebastian moves before me. He throws some kind of enchanted magical powder at me, and tiny pieces get into my eyes. My face starts to burn. I scream with pain, falling on the ground and he hovers over me, whispering directly into my ear.
“Little girls like you should be at home, cooking and taking care of the family. Jorgen promised me the job long before the contest began. He thought his own people would laugh at him if you were to be the winner. Now I’ll strangle you to death and claim my victory.”
He has me pinned down beneath him, squeezing my head painfully with his giant hand. My other hand’s free and all of a sudden I remember the betel nut juice, so I automatically reach for his face. I was really hoping to avoid this, knowing the acid can kill him, but I don't want to end up dead myself. As soon as my gloves touches him, the skin on his face starts melting away. Purple light explodes all around us and he lets go of me, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Chapter 23
The cutting of the mage