A Snare of Vengeance

  Holy crap.

  Neraka sure supported our rebellion, then! We certainly hadn’t expected Imen to come all the way to Ragnar Peak to pitch in, but we absolutely welcomed the added firepower. As the sun rose proudly over the eastern horizon, I found myself smiling beneath my mask.

  Heron

  I didn’t even have time to be baffled, constantly reloading and shooting more arrows to kill as many daemon archers as I could before they had a chance to reload.

  “So, yeah, we brought some of the good stuff!” Wyrran added. His Imen handed crossbows around, along with fully stocked quivers. Avril grabbed two of each, and we quickly switched to crossbows. I could instantly feel the improvement in speed and accuracy with these simple yet exquisitely crafted beauties.

  “That’s… That’s incredibly thoughtful of you, I guess,” Hansa stuttered, trying to find the right words as she released another explosive arrow, before she took hold of a crossbow. “Big one incoming!” she then shouted.

  “Crap,” I muttered, then yelled at Wyrran. “Take cover!”

  Seconds later, a giant arrow made its way up above the fortress, before gravity got the better of it. It pierced through the northern wall just as Scarlett pulled Patrik away. The portion they’d just stood on was damaged in the impact, and chunks of stone crumbled into the courtyard.

  “Oh, wow, they brought out the big toys, huh?” Wyrran chuckled nervously, then whistled, earning the attention of his Imen. “Spread out. Take the walls. Groups of five. And give these outsiders some backup. Move! Move! Move!”

  Despite his young age, Wyrran displayed military discipline. He was bound to have an interesting story to tell, provided we all survived this siege. The troops he’d stationed through the outside hatches continued firing their crossbows. We added rounds of arrows on top of that, but it took six or seven per daemon to bring them down.

  The Adlets had lost tens of their own, their packs thinned as they continued toward the southern and western base of the mountain. The daemons still had the giant ballistae, and we could hear Blaze roaring and raining fire on their asses, but he’d obviously been unable to disable all of those horrible contraptions. He couldn’t get too close, either, as each of those giant arrows was meant for him.

  Wyrran’s Imen took their positions up on the walls and started shooting. The difference was immediately noticeable.

  “It’s getting hot on this side!” Hansa shouted from the southern wall. “We could use an extra pair of crossbows here, kids!”

  Avril and I briefly looked at each other, nodded, then darted over to help. “Coming,” I replied and found us a good spot in the corner. The view from up here was downright spine-chilling. The eastern ridge was definitely in slightly better shape, as the Imen from the hatches continued their assault on the incoming mercenaries.

  Over on the south side, however, it was getting crowded. The third line was almost down, as were most of the archers on the ridge below, but the fourth and fifth lines of daemon mercenaries were thick and persistent, navigating the plethora of craters and dismembered corpses. Furthermore, there were still four ballistae fully operational. I spotted five large arrows lodged into the mountainside at different altitudes, and we’d just taken one in the northern wall. It was only a matter of time before they released one that could cause more damage.

  Wyrran came up on our side with a loaded crossbow and a quiver on his back.

  “You people won’t be able to get off this mountain through the back gate. You know that, right?” he asked. “The staircase leading to the ground level is compromised, and there are plenty of daemons coming up on that ridge.”

  “Yeah, we kind of figured that one out already,” Jax replied, shooting and reloading his new crossbow with swift movements. He looked as though he’d been born with one of these things in his hands. “We’ve got more allies coming. Hopefully, they’ll keep these daemons busy while we get away through the back, nonetheless.”

  “No need,” Wyrran shot back, then fired his crossbow. A confident smirk crossed his face. “We came through the tunnels. There are four of them leading up to the fortress, plus a network of smaller links between them and the outer hatches. It’s how we made it up here undetected. We rigged them with enough explosives to bring down the entirety of Ragnar Peak.”

  As he said that, he got our full attention, especially Jax’s, who was stunned and staring at him. A daemon arrow missed him by inches. Hansa cursed behind him, smacked him over the shoulder, and pulled him back into the crossbow game. They both leaned against the half-wall and fired at the incoming hostiles.

  “You can take one of the four tunnels out of here,” Wyrran continued. “As soon as you get out of range, a few of my guys will stay back to detonate the whole network and destroy the entire mountain.”

  “Draconis 2.0,” Fiona muttered. “Then we need to get as many of these monsters up on the mountain as possible,” she added. “We’re not leaving until we know for a fact that the majority of these two armies will be dealt with. We can’t afford being followed, given what we have to do next.”

  Wyrran nodded, then fired another shot, getting a mercenary right in the throat. The kid had impressive marksmanship, for sure. Definitely military. I was officially curious.

  “That’s fine. We’ll hold out here for as long as possible, but as soon as it starts getting too hot, I need you all to go,” he replied.

  A bloodcurdling roar from below made us all freeze. Blaze plunged toward one of the ballistae, spitting fire along the way, but a second one was turned and aimed at him, while the mercenaries around the giant crossbows scrambled for cover from the melting inferno spreading toward them.

  I heard Caia scream from the tower. “Blaze, watch out!”

  The dragon managed to disable the ballista he’d been aiming for, but the other one released an arrow. He was too late to completely dodge it. It pierced through his wing, but it didn’t take him down. It got lodged halfway through, and it looked horribly painful.

  “Oh, crap,” Avril muttered. The rest of our team on the south side was forced to resume fire, as more mercenaries from the fourth and fifth lines of offense made their way up.

  Blaze wasn’t just in pain, though. He was incredibly pissed off—and for good reason. He roared and spat rivers of fire below him, urgently flapping his wings in a desperate attempt to dislodge the arrow. It came loose and landed head down into a squadron of daemons. Two never got back up, while the others scattered and ran for cover.

  He obliterated the ballista responsible for his injury before its handlers could reload. Two were left fully operational, but Blaze was injured. He flew back up to the fortress, barely keeping a straight line. The remaining ballistae turned and aimed at him.

  “Druids, incoming ballista arrows!” Jax shouted. “Do not let either one touch Blaze or the fortress!”

  I feared that Druid fire might not be enough in this case. “Harper!” I called out. “Draw some energy from someone and get ready with a barrier, just in case!”

  She nodded, and Pheng-Pheng tapped her shoulder. “Take some from me,” the young Manticore said. Harper gripped her forearm and syphoned off her, then shifted her focus back to the ballistae—just in time, too, as both released their projectiles.

  They came up fast, just as Blaze did a forced landing in the middle of the courtyard. He slammed into the northern wall, making the entire fortress tremble in the impact. Caia was visibly distraught and tried to come down, but Hansa stopped her.

  “Focus, Caia!” the succubus shouted. “We need firepower up here!”

  Velnias rushed over to Blaze, who shifted back to normal. His left arm was bleeding.

  “Incoming!” Jax yelled.

  Druid fireballs missed one of the arrows, forcing Harper to release a barrier prematurely. It wasn’t strong enough to break the second one’s flight. Someone cursed, and I watched the second giant arrow headed right for our wall.

  “Get out of the way!” I managed, then quickly w
rapped my arms around Avril and pulled her back.

  The projectile hit the south wall with considerable strength, piercing the upper edge. The others managed to avoid a direct hit, but stone rubble burst out from the impact and exploded inward. The blow was severe. Dust billowed, and I could no longer see the rest of my team.

  A portion of the wall crumbled, and more dust spread through the air, making it even more difficult to see. I held on for dear life, clutching Avril to my chest as the stone slabs beneath us gave in and sank into the courtyard.

  “Crap, crap, crap!” I bellowed, then fell.

  Harper

  I didn’t draw enough energy from Pheng-Pheng.

  I coughed, struggling to breathe. The dust tickled my throat. My whole body hurt as I lay on the ground in the courtyard. I’d been caught in the partial collapse of the wall. Pain shot through my right leg. I tried to move it, but it was stuck.

  “Harper!” Caspian croaked, reaching me.

  Not all of us had managed to get out of the way in time. Caspian was injured, too, judging by the blood trickling down his dust-covered face. He freed my leg from the pile of rubble that had pinned it down and pulled me up.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, wheezing and breaking into another dry cough.

  “I’ll be fine,” he replied, then briefly checked my injuries. “Nothing serious, from what I can tell.”

  “Doesn’t stop me from feeling like a train ran over me.”

  I paused, then quickly looked around to assess the state of my team. Imen had hurried over to get Hansa and Jax back up. Pheng-Pheng was already standing, panting as she wiped the blood from her temple.

  Heron and Avril were okay, too, though still dazed from the fall. The ballista arrow had hit the upper lip of the southern wall with enough strength to dislodge a hefty chunk of it. The entire structure was still standing, but it was only a matter of time before it would all come crumbling down—if I had to guess, I would’ve said three, maybe four more of those big-ass arrows to completely destroy the entire south side.

  Velnias had already taken care of Blaze, whose forearm was covered with a bandage strip, holding the healing paste in place. Zane and Fiona were still on the wall with Wyrran and a couple more Imen, while the others held their own against the incoming daemons on the other sides.

  “We need to get back up,” Hansa breathed.

  With lightning speed, she and Jax climbed up the southern wall, next to Fiona, Zane, and the others.

  “Guys,” Vesta called out. “Big problem on this side!”

  I immediately used my True Sight to scan the western part of Ragnar Peak, all the way to the base, where—I lost my breath. Catapults. Two of them, and huge. The daemons had taken a while to bring them forward, judging by the deep tracks they’d left behind in the hard ground. They had loaded them up with large boulders and were just about to pull the levers.

  “Catapults!” I shouted. “Two at the base!”

  I briefly assessed potential trajectories as Zane slipped to the corner to get a better look.

  “High-precision launchers,” he said. “They’ll go for the towers first! I’ve seen them in action before.”

  I heard the rumble and the release clang. My heart stopped as I looked up at the towers.

  “Caia!” I screamed. “Get down from there! Now!”

  The boulders were hurled through the air with bone-chilling precision, proving Zane’s point. Vesta and her parents summoned the elements in a bid to stop both incoming chunks of rock, but only managed to take one down. The second flew past them and straight toward Caia’s tower.

  “Caia!” Blaze growled.

  The Druids were halfway down from their tower. Patrik shot out a blue fire spell but missed the projectile by inches.

  I kept my True Sight on Caia. The boulder crashed into her tower. I choked up, then cried out, my eyes instantly tearing up. I’d just seen her up there, but she was gone—and so was the tower. It came crumbling down, its stony entrails spilling into the courtyard.

  “Caia, no!” Blaze bellowed, utterly distraught as he finally managed to stand.

  My heartbeat echoed in my ears. My breath was cut short. I couldn’t move. Neither of us could move as we stared at the collapsed tower.

  Caspian and I rushed toward it but came to a sudden halt. The pile of rubble trembled and burst outward. Velnias, bless his daemon heart, emerged, holding Caia in his arms. They were both covered in scratches and dirt—but alive.

  Blaze and I darted over to them. The dragon took over for Velnias and held Caia tight in his arms. I dropped a kiss on the top of her head, tears streaming down my cheeks. I was shaking like a leaf.

  “Cuz, I’m not leaving this place without you, dammit!” I whispered.

  Caia gave me a weak smile. “Hey, I’m tiny but resilient.”

  “No, what you are is lucky,” Velnias shot back, shaking his head disapprovingly as he dusted himself off.

  “We need some help up here!” Hansa called out, constantly firing and reloading her crossbow. A brief True Sight assessment confirmed my fears: the daemons were gaining significant ground on the south side. The Adlets and the rebel Imen were good at keeping the west and the east flanks back, while Patrik and Scarlett had a good grip on the north. Laughlan and Ryker split up. Ryker took the northeastern corner, while Laughlan moved to provide backup on the west side.

  Caspian and I rushed back up the crippled south wall, picking up new crossbows and quivers on the way—courtesy of Wyrran’s people. We loaded up and started firing again. My head hurt, and my leg felt a little stiff. My ribs and left shoulder were sore, but I was going to heal soon enough. There was no time to take a breather. The enemy surrounded us, and they were getting dangerously close to the fortress walls.

  “Disable the archers,” Jax commanded, then looked over his shoulder at Laughlan. “We need those catapults disabled too.”

  The Druid nodded, then froze. Only then, in the second-long silence, did I capture a familiar, spine-tingling rattle coming in from the northwestern ridge. My heart boomed with newfound energy.

  “Manticores!” I breathed.

  Harper

  The rattling grew louder.

  I glanced around and noticed the worried expressions on the daemon mercenaries’ faces. They slowed down in their advance. Some even paused as they recognized the sound.

  Perfect window for us.

  “Reload,” Hansa muttered.

  We did, then aimed and released a flurry of short arrows. Dozens in consecutive rounds pierced their throats before they continued their advance and used their shields to avoid the incoming projectiles. There was only so much meranium plates could protect them from, especially since their armor didn’t fully cover their most critical points.

  Pheng-Pheng purred, almost like a kitten, a grin slitting across her face as she reloaded her crossbow and shot it again.

  “I can smell the wind of change, comrades,” she chuckled.

  “Oh, damn,” Heron murmured, then stilled.

  There were at least eighty, maybe a hundred Manticores working their way up the southern and western slopes. They were fast, vicious, and poisonous in their strikes. Their chests, upper backs, shoulders, and forearms were covered with bronze-colored protective plates that glistened whenever touched by sunlight.

  They darted through the fifth line of daemon mercenaries, their scorpion tails rattling and stinging left and right. Our enemies didn’t even see them coming. Less than a minute later, the Manticores were breaking through the fourth line.

  Some of the daemons were quick enough to react, the remaining archers in particular. I saw them shift their aim onto the Manticores, waiting for a clear shot, but I wasn’t going to let them shoot. I reloaded my crossbow and got one of the archers in the throat. His eyes bulged out, blood gurgling out of his gaping mouth, as I prepared another arrow, then released it into another archer.

  “Go for the archers,” I said. “The Manticores are too fast for them. Now’s
our chance.”

  Pheng-Pheng giggled. “Nice to see you’re all still standing, Harper Hellswan,” she said, her voice low. That was her mom, the queen of Manticores, speaking through her.

  “Looking forward to seeing you join us,” I replied, trying to drown out the rumbling and growling of the war unfolding around us with the sound of my own voice.

  “Oh, I’ll be with you shortly,” she replied.

  We kept shooting, catching glimpses of Adlets tearing through the lower ranks, while the Manticores continued their dash through the fifth and fourth ranks. Their scorpion needles pierced through the daemon skin, delivering considerable amounts of venom. Just to make sure the mercenaries went down, preferably sooner rather than later, we concentrated a number of arrows in their direction.

  “We’ll handle the archers,” Heron said. “You guys take the foot soldiers.”

  “Perfectly fine by me,” I replied, then reloaded and aimed my crossbow at one of the generals.

  He was fifteen yards away and twice as big as the others around him. He was a mountainous mass of muscle and heavy bones. The mighty fall harder… I released an arrow. It cut through the air, its feathery tail rippling. He didn’t even see it coming until it was too late—specifically, when it pierced his eye. He cried out from the pain, and I heard Caspian scoff.

  He aimed and shot a second arrow, piercing the general’s jugular. “As much as I would love to see these fiends suffer tremendously for everything they’ve done and intend to keep doing, we don’t have time.”

  “You make a fair point,” I replied, then shot another mercenary in the throat.

  The Manticores continued their deadly rampage, while we provided cover and finished off the daemons that were still standing. It was starting to look like we might get off this mountain after all.

  Wyrran and two of his Imen pulled open the hatch next to the fountain. He looked up at me. “You’ll all need to get ready soon,” he said. “Your allies are coming. Your window to escape is almost here.”