He had a bad feeling about that.
"Chen," he said, and the Slayer inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment.
Then Chen held the brand even higher. His eyes glinted with malice as the shadow dragons chanted more loudly.
"Chen, Chen, Chen!" the shadow dragons cried, rattling their shackles. Their voices were hollow and monotonous, creepy for their lack of animation. The sound echoed through the chamber, bouncing off the water's surface and making the space feel claustrophobic. Niall thought the water was beginning to ripple in time with the chant and he felt Rox grip his shoulders more tightly.
"I offer you a choice," Chen said. The water heaved again as he hauled an unconscious Thorolf out of the water and gave him an impatient shake.
Rox caught her breath and Niall was shocked at the pale, still state of the big Pyr. There was a large wound on Thorolf's chest, and his scales seemed lighter in hue, as if he'd lost a lot of blood.
Was he dead?
Or just close to it?
Either way, Niall had to get Thorolf out of here.
"There have to be repercussions for one's choices, don't you think?" Chen asked no one in particular as the shadow dragons chanted. "We must pay for the injuries we inflict upon others, the damage we do to their appearance."
"Oh no," Rox whispered. "Not that."
Chen smiled. "Yes, that." His gaze brightened as he considered Niall. "Although I have need of only one recruit. You could take his place."
"No!" Rox said, clutching Niall. "Don't you dare get heroic on me."
Chen reared back and exhaled dragonfire at the brand. It glowed, becoming even whiter and brighter. Niall thought he could feel its radiant heat.
"Chen, Chen, Chen," chanted the shadow dragons, the volume of their voices growing louder and louder. The water was resonating and the stones were vibrating. "Chen, Chen, Chen!"
Chen bent Thorolf's neck so that the left side was displayed. He exhaled to dry the scales. Then he moved the brand toward Thorolf's flesh.
"No!" Rox cried.
"No!" Niall bellowed, then dove toward the Slayer, talons extended.
Rox watched Niall leap toward Chen. Chen threw Thorolf aside and the big Pyr fell into the water with a splash. Thorolf stayed limp and any hope Rox had that he'd rally faded fast.
Niall meanwhile had locked claws with the Slayer and they wrestled through the water. Chen's tail locked around Niall's, twining about it and holding Niall back. The Slayer continued to hold the brand high overhead, which meant he had one claw fewer.
Niall slashed at his face, drawing dark blood, then breathed fire. Chen took a step back and Niall bit at his shoulder, ripping the flesh with force. Chen cried out in pain. His tail moved quickly to disentangle from Niall's, and he grabbed Thorolf by the back of the neck. He forced the big Pyr's head underwater, and some bubbles rose to the surface.
"No!" Rox cried, but Niall had already seized the Slayer by the throat with both claws. He lifted Chen up quickly and slammed his head into the ceiling of the chamber so hard that Rox heard a crack.
Chen's grasp loosened on both Thorolf and the brand. Thorolf fell with a splash back into the water as Niall ripped the brand from Chen's claw. Niall coiled the tip of his tail around the brand's handle, then passed it quickly back to Rox.
"Don't lose it," he said tersely, and Rox understood.
It was hot--hot enough to burn her hands even when she held the handle. On impulse, she plunged it into the murky water and heard it sizzle. The water bubbled, boiling in its vicinity, and the iron slowly turned black.
It couldn't be used to mark Niall now. Not unless Chen had the strength to heat it again.
Talons free, Chen and Niall raged back and forth across the chamber, biting and slashing at each other with savage force. They breathed dragonfire, the flames lighting the darkness, and Rox heard the rumble of old-speak as they traded taunts.
Thorolf shifted shape where he had been cast, changing from dragon to man to dragon again, as if he couldn't control his body. He moaned as his form changed, as his form wavered, and she knew he was in bad shape.
Rox made a step toward him when something reptilian locked around her ankle and tugged hard. She slipped, the cold water sloshing past her waist. That something tugged again, and she lost her footing. Rox screamed in terror as she fell, and she got a mouthful of cold murk as a reward.
Then she was hauled to some unknown destination at lightning speed. There was only dark, cold water and helplessness.
It was her worst nightmare, all over again.
No. She wasn't going there again. Rox tightened her grip on the brand and struck at her assailant with all her might.
Chen was messing with him. Niall knew it.
He'd gotten in a few good blows, but he knew the Slayer wasn't giving the fight all he had. He sensed that the Slayer was letting him think he was winning.
Or stalling for time.
Niall couldn't figure out why, not until Rox screamed. He saw her fall into the water, as if she'd stepped into a hole.
Or been tugged down from deep below. Then he realized he'd lost track of the Slayer's tail.
Chen chuckled and withdrew rapidly, bolting toward one of the tunnels that left the chamber. "You'll never find her again," he taunted, but Niall wasn't going to tolerate that.
He leapt after the Slayer and ripped savagely at his tail. He dove into the water and sank his teeth into that tail, shredding it with all his might. Chen thrashed and struggled, but he didn't have nearly the motivation that Niall did.
There was a rumble and stone began to fall all around Niall. Slamming Chen into the ceiling must have compromised the structure. The water sloshed in the chamber and the shadow dragons chanted with renewed fury. Chen struggled but Niall held fast, gnawing with all his strength.
How long had Rox been underwater? Had she held her breath? Was she still alive?
The shimmer of the firestorm answered his question. Its golden presence gave Niall the last burst of power he needed. He felt the rhythm of something in the water, saw Chen suddenly flinch, and guessed what his determined mate was doing.
Niall ripped Chen's tail and immediately felt the Slayer race away from his severed tail. Niall worked down its length, found Rox, and carried her to the surface just as the side tunnels began to collapse.
The shadow dragons moaned and roared. Rox sputtered and clutched Niall, her breath coming in anxious spurts. "Thanks," she said, and shuddered right to her toes. She found her footing and stood up by herself, catching her breath.
He wasn't surprised she still had the brand. "I got a few good hits in," she said, swinging it like a weapon. Her show of spirit reassured him as little else could have done.
Niall grabbed Thorolf and shook him hard, dragging the big Pyr toward the tunnel that seemed to slant upward. Thorolf was in human form, but limp. Niall felt as if he were dragging a dead moose, even in his own dragon form. Rox moved quickly to grab Thorolf's other shoulder and tried to help move him.
Niall then heard a low chant, the sound of someone singing the song of the earth. He looked around, distrusting his senses.
Then he heard a competing voice, one that sang a different song of the earth. The two voices competed with each other, the first one fading as the second became more vehement.
Chen and Rafferty.
Niall guessed Chen was determined to trap them here forever.
Rafferty began to sing the song of steel, which made no sense to Niall. He didn't have time to think about it, though. The earth rippled again and the ceiling shook.
"Crappy place to be during an earthquake," Rox said, covering her fear with bravado. They pushed Thorolf through the narrow opening, Niall wincing when the big Pyr fell into the shallow water on the other side. He could have been a bag of rocks. Niall helped Rox through, then leapt through himself.
How were they ever going to make it out together?
Niall eyed the distance to the stairs, the ones that led to the a
ctive subway tunnel and a guaranteed exit.
They'd never make it.
He called again for Sloane and wasn't sure whether he heard a faint answer or not. Whatever had happened to Sloane, they were on their own for the moment.
"Come on, Thorolf. You've got to help if we're going to get out of here alive," Niall said. His words had no discernible effect, but Rox slapped Thorolf hard across the face.
That didn't help, either.
The ceiling groaned overhead. It cracked and crumbled, stone falling in chunks into the water. The shadow dragons screamed far behind them, a loud wail of pain that gave Niall goose bumps.
That sound made Thorolf's eyes open.
Fetters sprang open audibly. Niall met Rox's gaze, wondering what was happening. Manacles clattered, splashed, and fell. The earth roiled and the walls shuddered. The water sloshed from side to side.
Thorolf swore. The three of them managed to hobble toward the distant stairs, the ones that led to the service platform. The alarm was still ringing there, and Niall wouldn't have minded some helpful human company at this moment.
There came a sudden fluttering of wings, like a thousand bats on the move. Niall saw the silhouettes pour out of the side tunnels and saw the glitter of their eyes. His heart leapt with fear.
They weren't bats.
They were shadow dragons, they were unfettered, and there were dozens of them. They moved like a cloud of menace and Niall was afraid he'd have to fight them all alone.
But they had another agenda. They passed low over the three of them, a dark cloud of fluttering wings. Rox ducked and put her hands over her head as they raced by.
Niall smelled their rotten scent and felt the shadow of their passing. He saw them swoop up the stairway and into the lower subway station. He saw them scurry down various side tunnels and passageways, clearly seeking the surface.
They'd been commanded to leave. Niall shivered.
Thorolf took one look at the flock of darkness swooping over them and his eyes went round. He swore vehemently, then hauled himself toward the staircase, leaving Rox and Niall behind. He was grim and pale, but he was moving under his own steam.
"Never fails. Bad shit happens underground," he muttered, hauling himself up the stairs as he winced in pain. He was pale but fighting against his own body's limitations.
"Talk later," Rox said, looking worried. "Move now."
"I'm with you on that," Thorolf said.
"I can help, but I can't carry you," Niall said, fearing the big Pyr would push himself too hard.
He caught a whisper of old-speak and was relieved. "Sorry!" Sloane said. "Got distracted."
"It probably wasn't an accident," Niall replied, relieved to hear the other Pyr's voice.
"Good job Sloane's close," Thorolf said as he tried to catch his breath at the top of the stairs. "That bastard Chen nearly ripped my guts out."
"Well, hold on to them for now," Rox suggested.
They had just climbed the stairs when rubble began to fall into the water behind them. All three of them moved faster, even though the earth had stilled. No one needed to say there could be another earthquake at any point.
Niall just wanted to feel the wind again.
The shadow dragons were gone, but the silence was ominous. Niall didn't trust it. He felt that the tunnel was breathing, that there were a thousand eyes watching them. There was no sign of Chen, which meant exactly nothing. Sloane was coming toward them, close enough that Niall could hear his quiet tread on the concrete. They moved out of the service station, entering the dark tunnel once more.
Niall had time to think they couldn't get out of this underground realm soon enough before they were attacked from behind.
It was Phelan.
And he went straight for Rox.
Rox heard Niall swear. A tingle of electricity passed over her skin, the hair standing up in the way it had whenever he'd shimmered blue. She spun to see the dark shadow of Phelan closing fast and Niall rearing high, amethyst and silver, to defend her.
Thorolf bellowed a warning, shoved Rox behind him, and shifted shape. He looked unsteady on his feet, if determined. If nothing else, he was a formidable obstacle. She heard Sloane begin to run down the tunnel toward them, but she feared he wouldn't reach them in time.
Then everything went wrong fast.
Niall leapt to lock claws with Phelan. Phelan dodged at the last moment and wove beneath Niall with lightning speed. He was as sinuous as a snake, his eyes shining like black mirrors. Niall pivoted but Phelan struck as quickly as a cobra.
He sank his talons into the back of Niall's right shoulder.
Rox was sure that was where the scale had come free, the one she still had in her pocket.
Niall bellowed in pain. He roared and breathed dragonfire, writhing in Phelan's grip. Phelan bit harder and shook Niall like a rag doll, then cast his brother aside. Niall fell to the subway platform and didn't move, his blood pooling red on the tiles.
Uh-oh.
Thorolf swore right before Phelan attacked him with savage glee. He thrashed and pummeled the big Pyr, biting him and pounding him. Thorolf tried to fight back, but he was already injured and in a heartbeat, he, too, was lying on the ground. He shifted back to human form, cycling between forms less rapidly than he had before, then became still.
Rox ran toward Sloane. She saw a shimmer of blue far ahead of her in the tunnel and raced toward him as quickly as she could. She felt the chill of Phelan's gaining on her, heard his breath, and ran faster. She could see Sloane raging toward her; she saw his talons extended and the fire emanating from his nostrils.
She didn't see the vent overhead until it was too late.
Phelan snatched at Rox. His reach was long, his talon longer.
Rox felt his claw cut a line down her back, from shoulder to butt, and she screamed. It could have been a scalpel of ice, so cold that its touch almost paralyzed her. It left her dizzy. It made her stumble. It filled her with cold and despair.
She fell as she felt the flutter of his passing over top of her. The last thing she saw before her eyes closed was Phelan shooting up the vent like a spiral of dark smoke. Rox was aware of Sloane leaping over her, of his tourmaline and gold scales glinting in the tunnel's darkness. He spoke to her, but Rox couldn't reply. A dark cloud filled her mind and made it impossible for her to move.
She was numb.
She just wanted to sleep.
Forever.
Sloane immediately sent a summons to Rafferty in old-speak. Then he surveyed the situation and set to work. He'd curse himself for being distracted by the Slayer when he had less to do. A little triage revealed that Niall was the most likely to revive quickly, and the most likely to be able to help.
Thorolf would heal with time and Sloane's familiar array of unguents and songs. Rox might be lost--one look at her injury left Sloane grim. Sloane concentrated on what he could solve.
Sloane bent over the amethyst and platinum dragon, wincing when he realized the shadow dragon had found a spot where Niall was missing a scale. The skin was pale there and so soft that Sloane knew it had only recently been exposed.
He didn't know why Niall had lost that scale, but Sloane could guess.
The wound had bled copiously, which had helped to drive out whatever toxin might have been on Phelan's talons. Sloane counted his blessings where he could find them. The wound looked cold and blue, so Sloane knew there was still poison within it. He shifted to human form, bent over Niall, and sucked as much liquid out of the wound as he could. He spit it on the tracks, repeating the action until the wound looked red instead of blue.
Sloane didn't have his kit of potions and bandages, so he had to make do. He had his skill and his experience, and he had his song. While he worked, he repeated the song of healing in his thoughts, letting its rhythm guide him, letting its power fill his gestures. He felt Niall's wound become cleaner, and he tasted the blood running truer. He tasted its red cleanliness, the spark of the Great Wyvern, an
d the shimmer of the firestorm. He worked diligently and as quickly as he could.
He was relieved when Niall opened his eyes and shifted to human form. His fellow Pyr's color wasn't great, but it was better than Sloane had expected. And Niall had shifted shape deliberately, which was a good sign. The blood was running clear red from the wound now, so Sloane knew he had done all he could for the moment. He tore the hem of his T-shirt and bandaged the wound. He continued to sing, but he sang aloud.
Niall winced and moved his shoulder tentatively, then scanned the platform with concern.
"He's gone," Sloane said. "Rafferty's coming. Thorolf's down hard, but he'll recover."
"And Rox?"
Sloane grimaced. He wasn't sure what to do to help her. Whenever humans encountered Pyr or Slayer substances, the results were unpredictable. All sorts of variables played a part, such as character, and Sloane knew he'd have to do some studying to help Rox.
He doubted this was the news Niall wanted to hear, so he kept his mouth shut.
"Did he take her again?" Niall was already on his feet, bracing himself against the wall as he sought a glimpse of Rox.
"No. It's worse, in a way." Sloane knew the moment Niall saw his fallen mate, because he paled again.
"She's hurt!"
"Touched by the shadow. Like you, but she's human."
"So?"
"So its effects are less easy to predict."
"What about treating them?"
Sloane frowned. "The wound is deep and she fell hard. I'm wondering whether the darkness found a resonance within her."
"Can you heal her?"
Sloane avoided the question and its answer. This wasn't the time or place for despair.
"We've got to get her out of here," he said softly, and Niall's lips tightened in understanding.
Sloane bent over Thorolf, surveying the big Pyr's wounds again. The T-shirt was torn into bands then, and he wrapped the strips around Thorolf's chest to staunch the bleeding. It was a clean wound, even though it was nasty, and Sloane knew he could heal it. There was a deep gouge in the Pyr's thigh, which he probed with his fingertips before he bound it, as well. He didn't find anything in the cut, but Sloane suspected there was something in it. It looked angry, but he needed tools and light to clean it properly.