Page 131 of A Dagger in the Ivy

Panic erupts among the guests, their joyous laughter replaced by screams of terror. The pristine lawns are now a chaotic sea of fleeingnobles and overturned tables. The king’s and queen’s faces are pale with fear, their regal composure shattered. Guards rush to their sides, fulfilling their duty to protect their ruler.

“Get the king to the castle!” a guard shouts.

The kingsguard form a protective barrier around him as they escort him from the courtyard. The queen clutches his arm, her eyes wide and her jaw agape, but he shoves her away. She whimpers as she falls to the ground.

I run to her side to help her up. Tears stream down her face as her chin quivers.

I grab Sir Holden and move the queen to his side. “Take the queen to her private chambers. Lock the door and don’t let anyone inside!”

Concern pulls his brows downward. “But, Your Highness, what about you?”

I wrestle with my gown and pull out my dagger. “I can hold my own. Take her, now!”

The carnoraxis are fast upon us. Dante is already moving, his falchion slicing through the air with deadly precision. The first beast to reach us lets out a guttural roar, its maw snapping shut inches from my face. I drive my dagger into its side, feeling the resistance of its thick hide before the blade finds purchase in softer flesh.

The beast screeches, a blood-curdling sound that only fuels the chaos. Blood sprays, a dark, viscous fluid that stains my dress and the grass beneath. Dante swings his falchion, severing the head of another carnoraxis, its body collapsing in a heap at our feet.

“Stay together!” I shout to the remaining guests, my voice cutting through the din. “Find cover! Get inside the castle.”

As I look toward the castle doors, I spot Sir Holden standing between the queen and one of the creatures. I gasp as the carnoraxis lunges and swipes at Sir Holden’s leg, drawing blood. But Sir Holden doesn’t falter. He swings his sword, his second attempt making contact and slicing the creature through his middle. Limping, Sir Holden reaches for the queen and hurries into the castle.

A fallen kingsguard lies motionless at my feet, his throat slit bycarnoraxis claws. I crouch and take his sword, switching it to my dominant hand while palming my dagger in the other.

The carnoraxis are relentless, their high-pitched whistles and shrieks creating a symphony of horror. They pounce on the fleeing nobles, their claws rending flesh and bone with sickening ease. Blood splatters the pristine lawns, turning the celebration into a scene of carnage.

Through the chaos, I see the king being hurried inside the castle by his guards. Torbin, however, is in pursuit, his focus solely on his father. And there’s a look in his eye that doesn’t speak of wanting to protect him.

It’s hate.

Torbin’s going to kill him.

I want to stop him, to call out and alert the guards, but the words die in my throat. Another carnoraxis lunges at me, its eyes blazing with hunger.

I parry its claws with the sword, the impact jolting up my arm.

Dante is at my side, his falchion a whirlwind of steel as he fights off the beasts. “We can’t let them reach the castle!” he shouts, his voice a rallying cry.

We fight side by side, a deadly dance of steel and instinct. The night is filled with the sounds of battle, the screams of the wounded, and the relentless roar of the carnoraxis. My muscles burn, my breath comes in ragged gasps, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. For the people huddled in fear at Ivystone, I must fight.

CHapter

Forty-Eight

Another horde races toward us from the woods. My muscles scream with agony. I grunt with each swing. My mind can’t comprehend the sheer quantity of beasts pouring out from the treeline.

Just when it feels like we are on the verge of being overwhelmed, a fierce battle cry pierces through the chaos. I turn to see Aila, Isaac, Giorgi, and a contingent of my soldiers charging onto the lawn, their weapons gleaming and their resolve unwavering. Relief floods through me at the sight of my comrades, their presence a beacon of hope amid the carnage.

Aila is a vortex of fury, her small frame belying the sheer force with which she wields her twin daggers. She moves with lethal grace, slicing through the carnoraxis with deadly precision. Each strike is a blur, each movement a testament to her unparalleled skill. She dives into the fray, her focus unbreakable, her every action a symphony of destruction.

Isaac’s look is menacing, his aim true as he loads bolt after bolt into his crossbow, hitting the beasts in their heads and causing them to fall one after the other. His face is set in a grim mask. “Come on, you monsters!” he roars, moving closer to the heart of the battle.

Giorgi is a vision of calm amid the storm, their movements fluid and controlled. They wield a staff, its ends tipped with sharp blades, spinning and striking with elegant precision. They parry a swipe from a carnoraxis and counter with a swift strike that sends the beast sprawling. “Hold the line!” Giorgi calls out, their voice steady and commanding, rallying the soldiers around them.

Aila’s voice rings out above the din. “Push them back! Don’t give them an inch!” Her rallying cry is met with a renewed surge of energy from the soldiers, their determination turning the tide of battle.

I make my way closer to her, fighting of the carnoraxis as I go. When I’m close enough, I speak out. “It’s about time you made it. Where’s Mylo?”

Her face is grim, her eyes darting to me for a second before she stabs a carnoraxis in the eye. “He’s searching for your uncle.”