Page 58 of A Dagger in the Ivy

We reach the lookout point at Mount Velorio as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the landscape. The air is crisp and cool, the perfect antidote to the sweat and grime of ourjourney. I dismount, my legs aching from the long ride, but I can’t help but marvel at the view before me. There’s a waist-high wall around the perimeter of the lookout platform, and I lean against it with my hands.

From this vantage point, I can see the entire valley spread out like a vast tapestry, each stitch a peak or a shadowed crevice. The different mountain ranges stretch into the distance, their jagged silhouettes softened by the twilight. The beacons on those far-off peaks stand ready, silent sentinels waiting to flare to life at the first sign of danger.

The full moon hangs low in the sky, its silvery light reflecting off the snow-capped summits, casting an ethereal glow over the landscape. It’s almost serene, this quiet before the storm. But I know better than to be lulled into complacency. Each mountain holds its own beacon, a signal to warn us of impending attack, and my eyes are trained on them, searching for any flicker of light.

“So I heard you have to wear dresses.” Isaac actually smiles as he stands beside me. “How much do you hate that?”

“I might be getting used to it,” I reply.

“Maybe it’s strategy.” Aila rests her hip against the wall. “They know how deadly you are, and the dresses are a device to slow you down.”

“She’s fae,” Giorgi puts in. “She’s already got speed on her side. No way a dress is going to slow her down.”

“Fae power advantage.” Mylo lets out a chuckle. “You know what would be a good power? Understanding how Isaac fits his big head through his uniform shirt.”

“Oh, screw you! Your head is bigger than mine.”

Mylo taps his temple. “Mine is because the size of my brain. Yours? All ego, my friend.”

Aila edges closer to me. “You know, I thought I signed up to be a soldier, not a babysitter.”

“It’s sort of the same thing.” Giorgi fiddles with the hilt of their sword. “Except we’re babysitting the whole realm.”

I keep my gaze fixed on the horizon, my heart keeping a steady beat as the minutes tick by. The tranquility of the scene is deceptive and we all know it.

Far off in the distance, wolves begin to howl. And almost as soon as the noise hits the air, a flicker catches my eye.

“There!” I point, my voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the spell. “Do you see it?”

Aila leans forward. “The beacon at Bazule. It’s been lit!”

I secure my baldric as adrenaline surges through me, dispelling any remnants of fatigue. “Mount up! We need to move, now!”

We scramble to our horses, each movement precise and practiced. Isaac is already checking his saddle, while Giorgi helps Aila secure her gear. Mylo gives a quick nod, his eyes set in a determined gaze. We’ve done this countless times, but the urgency never fades.

I swing into my saddle and grip the reins tightly, my mind racing. The beacon means the carnoraxis are on their way to attack, and it’s our duty to race to Bazule before the creatures breach their borders. The full moon casts a silvery path as we gallop down the mountainside, hooves pounding against the earth in a rhythmic thunder.

The wind whips past my face, mingling with the rapid beat of my heart. The night air is sharp and cold, filling my lungs with each breath. Every sense is heightened, every sound amplified. The landscape blurs as we race toward Bazule, the beacon’s light a constant reminder of the peril ahead.

Bazule is a resourceful town. My hope is they’ve implemented something to serve as their first line of defense in case we don’t get there on time.

The anticipation is electric, crackling through our small squad. We ride as one, a single unit driven by duty and the bond we share. Giorgi knows all the quickest routes, their skill of being able to sear the details of any map into their memory like perfection. We follow, acutely aware of the stakes, the lives depending on us. But I am also aware of the strength within us, the unyielding determination that fuels our every step.

At last, Bazule is ahead. I steel myself for what lies ahead. The night air is thick with tension, a palpable sense of fear pressing down on us. The wind carries the blood-curdling, high-pitched, whistling howls ofthe carnoraxis. Their eerie cries echo around us, and the sound sends a pulsing ache in my ears. They’ve breached the borders of the town, the destruction begun. My heart pounds in my chest as we dismount and charge forward, swords drawn and ready for battle.

Villagers scream in terror as they flee from the advancing horde of carnoraxis. With their eyes wild with fear, the citizens of Bazule scurry to save themselves. Those who haven’t already barricaded themselves in their homes dart through the shadows to find a place to hide.

The horde of carnoraxis charge through the streets, seeking their prey. Their towering forms and razor-sharp claws strike fear into the hearts of even the bravest warriors. Mottled, decaying flesh hangs loosely from skeletal frames, while glowing, red eyes burn with a malevolent hunger. Rows of jagged teeth snap at anything that moves, the air thick with the stench of death and rot.

The creatures have scattered throughout the town, so I can’t tell how many have infiltrated.

“Spread out!” I tighten the grasp on my sword, my ears perked.

Mylo and Aila fight side by side, their movements fluid and precise as they cut down the monstrous creatures with deadly efficiency. Isaac unleashes a barrage of arrows from his crossbow, each shot finding its mark with uncanny accuracy. Giorgi charges forward with reckless abandon, their sword gleaming in the firelight as they cleave through the ranks of the enemy.

A woman’s scream reaches my ears.

I turn in the direction of the sound and charge forward. Two carnoraxis round the corner and come at me. With a primal roar, I lunge forward, slashing and parrying with all my might as I fend off the relentless onslaught.

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