Page 64 of Heart of the Shadow King

Time seems to slow. I cannot believe what I am seeing. Trolde are not easily taken down, certainly not by half-humanibrildians.Our bones do not break like dolls of clay. We are stone. Yet my eyes cannot deny the truth.

Before I can react, the Licornyn launches himself at the next trolde, driving hisvirmaerblade straight through his face. The next heartbeat, he whirls and springs for the third, cutting him in half in a single, powerful blow. Then he begins hacking at the net, desperate to free the unicorn.

By now I’m in motion. “Licornyn!” I cry, storming toward him, my diamond blade upraised. He lifts his head. Shock radiates through me. Black juices pour from the corners of his eyes.Virulium.He’s taken a dose ofviruliumjust like those gods-damned Noxuarian berserkers. And now—

He bares his teeth, launching at me like a rabid cave devil, slavering in madness. Thatvirmaerblade flashes in a storm of blows, and I’m hard-pressed to parry. His strength is tremendous, and the poison has made him unnaturally swift. He can’t get past my defenses, but neither can I get through his. We are evenly matched. When I finally land a blow across his ribcage, it has no noticeable effect. Blood wells, but he moves as though he feels no pain.

The battle closes in around us, more Noxaurian’s pouring through the faltering wards. Myortolarok,though grossly outnumbered, fell four enemies with each blow. We can beat them back. We can defend these walls. But this man? He is something else—a demon loosed from the deepest hell.

His blade catches my wrist, cutting clean through the bracer and jarring my sword from my grip. I do not hesitate. Rather than lunge to reclaim it, I go straight for my enemy. His sword is upraised to hew my head from my shoulders. I plant both hands against his chest, send him hurtling yards back. He makes a divot in the ground where he lands, but theviruliumdrives him to his feet even before he’s caught his breath. Shuddering from the force of my blow, he turns to face me again. Raising his sword arm high, he charges.

A small, slight figure steps in his way.

She appears as though from nowhere, a ghost stepping out of the ether, manifesting in a shimmering, unreal haze. Her back is to me. Yet I know her. I recognize her. Even in the strange garb she wears, with her hair pulled back from her face in small, tight braids. Even with her arms uncovered save for bands of leather, and her gown made of animal hides. Even with a small, sharp sword gripped in one hand, upraised in my defense. Even so, I know her. I would know her anywhere.

Ilsevel.

My betrothed.

The Licornyn descends upon her, his footsteps carrying him forward at terrible speed. His sword is already flashing in an arc. “Taar! No!”she cries. Her sword rises to deflect his blow. Their weapons crash together. In a whirl of motion, the Licornyn pivots on heel, changes the angle of his attack.

And drives his sword into her gut.

It all happens too fast. My mind cannot register what it sees. I’m distantly aware of how the Licornyn’s gaze suddenly clears—how the blackviruliumfades, and his true eyes stare out from his face down at the girl skewered on the end of his blade. An expression of horror cuts across his features.

She staggers back. Her sword falls from numb fingers.

She sinks to her knees.

Then I am there. Hacking, roaring, driving into the Licornyn. He defends as though he does not know what he does, as though some foreign entity controls his body. He retreats into the fray raging around us, but I cannot follow him, cannot hew him to pieces as I would like.

She needs me. Ilsevel needs me.

Kneeling, I gather her in my arms. Her lovely face tilts back, dark eyes glazed over as she stares up at me. “V—Vor?” she whispers. Her hands press into her gut, feebly striving to hold back the gush of blood.

“Hold on, Ilsevel,” I growl. She moans as I lift her off the ground. Each small motion must send bolts of agony shooting through her. But she’s too vulnerable here, and the Noxaurians are closing in.

I turn and race for the gate. The Miphates have shored up most of it, but I can see the terrified faces of young students through an opening. “Take her in!” I bellow. The faces through the gap stare at me in horror. Blood-spattered and monstrous as I am, they cannot tell me from their enemies. “Take her in!” I cry again. “She’s the king’s daughter. She’ll die out here!”

Someone must hear me and understand, for a harsh voice barks orders. The next moment, a wicket door is opened. It’s too small for me to pass under, so I simply shove the princess’s body into the opening. Grasping hands seize her, pull her through, and slam the door behind her.

Ilsevel.Alive.

But for how long?

I whirl to face the battle. The Licornyn is lost to my sight, but other unicorn riders streak across the field on their flaming mounts, charging through the ranks of Noxaurians. Myortolarok, though outnumbered, fight with unmatched savagery both on the ground and in the air. We will rout this force before the night is through.

Brandishing my diamond blade, I hurtle once more into the fray.

27

FARAINE

A hand lands hard on my shoulder and yanks me back from the door. The child hits the frame, scrabbles at the narrow opening, sticking her arm out to claw at empty air. The walls echo with her snarls, the light of thelorststone flashing across an utterly savage face.

“You’ve lost yourjor, girl,” Maylin’s voice hisses in my ear. “You’d best get it back quick.”

I’m shaking. Shaking so hard, my bones might break. The child’s emotions pour out from her in an unhindered torrent, assaulting my mind. Terror, rage, wrath, horror, all in battering blows. Maylin is right; I must wrap myself injor. Yet looking into that slavering mouth, those lunatic eyes, I cry, “We’ve got to help her!”

---