“You’ve already made all the difference.”
She leaned back so she could meet his eyes. “Do you really think you can win? That you and the draconians can destroy Asphodel and Chrysalis?”
“We will. We have to.” His tone suggested he wouldn’t allow any other outcome. Too much depended on their success.
“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” she whispered, knowing even as she asked the question that he wouldn’t. He was always too reckless in a fight, more concerned about protecting others than his own safety. “I can’t lose you. I can’t survive it.”
“Yes, you can,” he murmured, his fingertips touching her cheek. “You can survive anything. Loss can be like chains holding you in place or a fire pushing you onward. We each choose every day what it will be to us.”
She closed her hand around his wrist, holding his hand against her cheek. “Don’t make me choose. Don’t make me go through that.”
He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in it. “I’ll be careful.”
She clutched his wrist harder, all too aware that he hadn’t made any promises. He wouldn’t promise to survive because he didn’t know if he would.
He gently withdrew his hand and put it into his pocket, pulling something out. He hesitated, clutching the object, then uncurled his fingers. The Sahar it its amethyst casing sat in his palm. She looked at it, then at him.
He exhaled slowly. “I think you should take this with you tomorrow.”
She didn’t reach for it. “Didn’t Lyre tell you what Natania tried to do to me?”
“He did. He also said you were convinced you could hold out against Natania long enough to make a difference … if worst came to worst.”
Horror rose up in her until it clogged her lungs. “You don’t think we can win tomorrow?”
“I do think we can win. But with Samael …” His eyebrows drew together, and for the first time, he let her see the shadow of dread and fear he was so careful to hide around everyone else. “With Samael, you can never be sure you have the upper hand.”
She still didn’t take the Sahar. “I don’t think I can win against Natania. I would be more of a liability than help, even if I could control it for a short time.”
He took her hand and placed the amethyst in her palm. “You’re stronger than Natania could ever be.”
Her fingers closed around the gem. “I’ll take it with me, but I won’t use it—not unless there’s no other choice.”
That shadow still haunted his eyes. The responsibility of hundreds—thousands—of lives rested on his shoulders and as much as he was projecting unshaken confidence, he knew they might fail. By the time the eclipse started, they would be attacking Asphodel, unassailable and undefeated. Every draconian that entered that valley might die—including him. Every reaper in Asphodel would be trying to kill him. This might be the last private moment they had together.
“Ash,” she whispered, “you know I love you desperately, right?”
He drew her face up and kissed her, his mouth hot and demanding. Heat dove through her middle and she tossed the Sahar aside so she could slide both hands into his hair.
“You know you are my heart and soul,” he murmured against her mouth.
She pressed her mouth frantically to his, kissing him until she couldn’t breathe. They fell back onto the cot, tangled together, holding each other painfully tight as though afraid to let go. She couldn’t lose him, but she couldn’t protect him and she couldn’t stop him. He had to do this.
Wrapped in his arms, she pressed her face against his chest and hoped he wouldn’t notice the tears that escaped her control. She would rather die than lose him, but if things went badly tomorrow, they would both lose far more than just each other.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
At the end of the valley stretching before her, the orange light of torches illuminated the shapes of buildings. The empty, rolling fields that filled the rest of the valley and the jagged mountains that surrounded it were invisible in the opaque darkness. The deep gorge that curved around the far side of the estate before winding away through the mountains was just as indiscernible. Heavy gray clouds had rolled in shortly before the eclipse and the rain continued to fall, a light but steady shower. The cold wind tugged at her dairokkan, sending little shivers up her spine from the odd sensation.
Beside Piper on the edge of the cliff, faintly discernible in the dark, Lyre nervously spun his chain of spelled gems between his fingers, staring at the distant lights of Asphodel. His jaw was tight, muscles flexing in his cheeks. Like her, he wore black draconian clothing and an assortment of weapons. No sword though; instead, he carried lots of daggers and throwing knives. She was heavily armed as well, and underneath her dark outerwear, she still wore her ryujin garb—too brightly colored to wear on its own. Zwi, perched on Piper’s shoulder, shivered in the rain.
On her other side, Tenryu clung to the rocky ledge, flexing his wings with clear impatience. Ash had gone back through the brand new ley line behind them to bring through the first group of draconian warriors, which would then bring through another group and so on. Tenryu had created the line just on the other side of the peak behind them, on a sheer rock face that could only be accessed by daemons with wings.
Tenryu rumbled irritably, his tail snapping to one side and smacking a boulder so hard it almost tipped off the edge of the cliff. The dragon rather sheepishly pushed it back into place with his back leg. Piper pretended not to notice.
The ley line fluctuated as draconians came through. It was beginning.
No, it had already begun—on Earth. Just before the eclipse, they’d received confirmation that the Ras and the Gaians had launched their attack on the Hades forces surrounding the Ra embassy. Samael probably didn’t even know yet.
The minutes passed too slowly as warriors flew over the peak and landed on the cliff and nearby rocky mountainside, clinging to the slope wherever they could find purchase. Their numbers grew until over two hundred draconians and almost as many dragonets clustered on the mountain, waiting in eerie silence. The last of the warriors had gone with the evacuees—their only protection should the attack on Asphodel fail.
She looked over her shoulder, eyes searching for Raum, Seiya, and Mahala. She couldn’t make them out in the black night, but they were there somewhere. They knew Asphodel best and would each be leading a small company. Ash would be leading the fourth one. With so many draconians concentrated in one place, she probably should have passed out from the mass Nightmare Effect, but the combination of darkness, rain, and her ongoing desensitization limited its influence on her.
She turned, careful of the sheer drop only a step in front of her. Kiev grinned nervously from his spot behind her, ten draconian warriors arranged behind him. He was leading her team: the one that would help Lyre break into the bowels of the Chrysalis building.
Zwi chirped softly just before Ash landed beside her. That black armor plate once again covered the lower half of his face. Their eyes met, a thousand unspoken words passing between them. She reached out and gripped his hand. He squeezed back, then pulled her close and boosted her onto Tenryu’s back. She grabbed the spines on his shoulders and pulled herself the rest of the way up. Ash tossed Lyre up after her before leaping onto the dragon’s back. Tenryu was so massive there was plenty of room for the three of them. She and Lyre crouched, getting a good grip while Ash stood between them. She felt the soundless buzz of telepathy between him and Tenryu.
Tenryu rose to his full height, lifting his head as his great wings spread wide. Ash raised a hand. The four companies and Kiev’s team came to attention, wings tight to their backs and eyes on their leader. Piper’s heart leaped, clogging her throat. This was it.
With a downward slash of his arm, Ash signaled for them to move out. Tenryu sprang off the cliff, wings sweeping down to catch the air. Kiev and his warriors followed in the dragon’s slipstream. Behind them, the rest of the draconians took flight in a thunder of hundreds of wings.
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As soon as they were moving, her anxiety blew away with the wind. A calm, intense focus fell over her. She thought of her first visit to Asphodel, facing memories she’d long since buried. The terror of the bastille, Samael’s cold cruelty and manipulation, Ash’s pain as he was tortured to punish her, the victims in the Chrysalis building enduring horrible experimentations.
They were going to stop all of that. End it all after five hundred years of unchecked power.
The lights and shapes of Asphodel grew brighter and clearer through the rain. Elegant, old-world buildings connected by courtyards and walkways filled the center of the town-like estate, the windows and footpaths brightly lit with spells, streetlamps, or torches. More practical structures, like the Chrysalis building, surrounded the center on three sides, and an expanse of military barracks sprawled over the remaining space within the estate walls.
Tenryu locked his wings in a glide, swooping lower. The draconians followed his lead, the four companies splitting as they drew nearer to the estate.
Lyre leaned forward. “What the hell are those? Those towers?”
Piper squinted, confused. The perimeter of the estate was enclosed in a high wall interspersed with narrow watchtowers, but they’d expected that. Then she saw it: four squat towers, one in each quadrant surrounding the center. She’d only flown over Asphodel once before but she was certain those short, ugly towers hadn’t been there before.
“I don’t know,” Ash answered tersely. “Let’s hope we don’t find out.”
Piper clutched Tenryu’s spines. Even if the towers were some sort of new weapon, they couldn’t stop. Besides, what kind of weapon could possibly stand a chance against Tenryu and Ash?
The great dragon tilted his wings, banking toward the south side of the estate. Ash’s and Seiya’s companies and Kiev’s small group followed him, while the other two companies peeled off toward the north end. They were closing in fast, Tenryu’s sights set on the encircling wall. They couldn’t attack the city yet. First they had to take care of the wards that protected it—the same wards Piper, Ash, and Seiya had been forced to detour around when they’d escaped Asphodel months ago.
An alarm blared, audible over the sound of the wind and beating wings. They’d been seen.
Tenryu folded his wings and dove for the nearest watchtower. Blue light lit the cracks between his scales and fire sparked to life, trailing off his wings. He opened his jaws wide and unleashed a torrent of blue fire. It exploded against the watchtower, annihilating the entire structure.
An explosion from the north side told her the other draconians had successfully attacked the opposite perimeter. They were using the spells Lyre had created, specifically designed to disrupt the ward spells on the towers.
Tenryu shot for the next tower. Blasts of red magic flew at him and Piper ducked low. The magic burst harmlessly on his scales and he loosed an ear-splitting roar as he expelled a second blue inferno. The tower crumbled.
One more. According to Lyre, the wards on the quadrant would fail if they destroyed three consecutive towers. If they couldn’t break the wards, they couldn’t attack the estate. Beating his great wings, Tenryu rocketed toward the third tower. One more blast of fire and it fell in a cascade of blackened wood and stone.
The sizzle of magic spread across her skin as the ward broke. The draconians roared a battle cry and Tenryu banked sharply, shooting over Asphodel where the wards had once been. Below them, figures ran frantically for cover as one company broke off, led by Seiya. Ash’s company and Kiev’s team followed Tenryu as he blasted random buildings below them while arching toward the sprawling structure that was Chrysalis.
The building loomed as Tenryu descended. He loosed another fiery blast, ripping the roof open in a burst of blue flames that quickly turned orange as flammable materials ignited. Piper grabbed Zwi off her shoulder, holding the dragonet tight. Ash’s head turned and his eyes, black and intense, locked on hers.
“Don’t die,” she said hoarsely. The wind snatched her voice away but she knew he’d heard her.
Kiev swept over her head, grabbing the simple leather harness she wore. He lifted her free from Tenryu as another draconian pulled Lyre into the air. They and nine more draconians swept away from Tenryu as the dragon arched away from Chrysalis, engulfing a few more buildings in flames as he went, causing as much chaos as possible and disguising the main target of his attack path.
As Tenryu and the company of draconians sped toward the barracks, Kiev and his team dove for the brand new hole in the Chrysalis roof. They dropped through the flames and into a dark, scorched hallway. Kiev set her on the floor and landed beside her. The others clustered behind them. This wasn’t the massive room full of humming equipment she’d seen the first time she’d broken into Chrysalis; that room must be at the other end of the building.
Only once the noise outside was muffled did she realize how loud it was—the blaring alarms, the yells and screams of the Asphodel residents, the shouts of the draconians directing movements. Inside, more shouting and panicked cries sounded from elsewhere in the building. Hopefully the Chrysalis workers were fleeing. That was the plan, anyway.
Her heart hammered with adrenaline. They needed to move fast. She turned expectantly to Lyre.
He stepped forward, shimmering out of glamour. She averted her eyes from his impossible beauty before it fogged her wits; for that reason, she was the only female on their team. She had the slight advantage of having a lot of practice resisting his advances.
Pulling his bow off his shoulder, he selected a golden arrow and looked back at the draconians. “Remember, once we get to the basement level, don’t hit anything with magic. Most surfaces are defensively spelled.”
He started forward at a brisk trot, Piper flanking him on one side and Kiev on the other. She pushed Zwi up onto her shoulder, letting the dragonet cling in place on her own; Zwi was her only connection to Ash and she couldn’t lose the dragonet. They rushed down a hall, then another, encountering no one. Lyre led them unerringly, his familiarity with every step he took obvious to the whole team.
The first person they ran into was a daemon in a white lab coat, running away down the hall. Lyre put an arrow between his shoulder blades before Piper even had her sword fully drawn. She kept it out, holding it in a white-knuckled grip as they headed down a staircase. They exited the stairwell straight into the bright, spacious reception area—and it was far from empty.
Daemons, a few in glamour but most not, were running for the main doors, so focused on getting out of the building after Tenryu’s attack that many didn’t notice the draconians rushing into their midst. Then someone yelled a warning, and most daemons, with a single panicked glance, redoubled their efforts to get out. But a handful turned, preparing to do battle.
An arrow from Lyre’s bow took out the nearest one, and then the draconians surged past him to meet their foes. Dragonets transformed in bursts of black magic, charging the daemons.
“Keep going,” Kiev yelled over the din.
Lyre ran across the foyer, heading for the opposite end with Piper behind him. As they darted past the battling daemons, one of the fleeing lab-coated men turned on Piper, his eyes flashing over her teal scales and dairokkan. Her sword whipped out, slashing across his belly. He staggered back and she kept running, right on Lyre’s heels.
As they shoved through white doors and into a dark, steel stairwell, a titanic detonation obliterated every other sound. The ground shook, the staircase creaking and groaning. She grabbed the railing for balance, Zwi clinging to her shoulder.
“Holy shit,” she gasped. “Was that Ash and Tenryu?”
Zwi chirped an affirmative.
She breathed a sigh of relief that Ash was still safe. Or, if not safe, so far unharmed.
Lyre hurried down the stairs, hopping the last few. Piper and Kiev followed, four draconians and their dragonets trailing after them. The other six were still in the foyer, keeping anyone from following them. At the bottom of the
stairs, a reinforced steel door blocked their path. She knew from experience that it was warded; it had kept Zwi out the last time Piper had gone through it.
She and Kiev turned to face the other direction, guarding Lyre as he crouched in front of the door and pressed both hands to the steel. Magic crackled around him.
Red light flashed, blasting him backward.
“Lyre!” She jumped to his side, grabbing his shoulder.
He shrugged her hand off, growling profanity under his breath. “Hold on, I’ve got this.”
He put his hands on the door again. A strange hissing sound rushed out from it and the latch popped. He shoved it open. The room on the other side held a large desk, illuminated by a single lamp. Three halls led off it, labeled with clear signage: Examination Rooms, Equipment & Supplies, and Subject Occupancy.
Piper shivered as she followed Lyre inside. Her memories of this room were not good ones, even compared to the rest of her Asphodel visit. Her eyes were drawn to the Subject Occupancy hall, where she had witnessed the horrific experiments being conducted on daemons before finding Ash chained up in the last room.
Lyre rushed behind the desk and laid his hands on the blank wall behind it. Piper, Kiev, and the other draconians clustered nervously in the center of the room, waiting. Lyre stood, unmoving, the tension stiffening his shoulders obvious and worrisome.
After a long minute, air whooshed like a seal releasing and a crack in the shape of a wide doorway appeared. He pushed on the wall in the center and it sank back then slid to the side, leaving a dark, rectangular opening. Creating a small, floating spot of light, he walked into the darkness. Piper hurried after him, clutching her sword, Kiev on her heels.
The steel walls were streaked with lines of rust. The air smelled of damp mold as they left the main basement level behind. Stairs appeared, dropping a dozen steps before turning and dropping again, then again. Kiev was so close he was almost stepping on her; Ash probably wasn’t the only draconian who hated being underground. Lyre led them, his light bobbing above his head, his bow and an arrow in his hands.