Page 80 of HeartTorn

Then the rope snaps in two.

I grab Shanaera by the throat. Startled, she drops the vial, which shatters on the floor. Virulium eats into the stone, and a dark miasma rises in hissing coils, but it sinks in fast and vanishes.

“No!”Shanaera chokes. Nuviar, Minuvae, and Riluan are in motion already, rushing to her aid. Riluan draws a sword, prepared to hack me in two. “Stop!” Shanaera cries, waving her arm to warn them off even as she twists against my grip. Riluan hesitates, gaze darting from her to me.

A crash sounds against the door, like the pound of a battering ram. Another hit, and the door bursts open. A blazing star incarnate erupts into the hall, soulfire radiating with roaring song. And clinging to the back of that star—suffused in purple flames, her hair blowing, her eyes shining with fierce songlight—my wife.

37

ILSEVEL

Taar!

My soul cries out at the sight of him, bound between those stone pillars but still very much alive. Until I laid eyes on him I simply couldn’t know for sure, despite the tension in thevelra.But he’s here—he’s here and whole and seems to be unharmed.

And he’s got his one-time love gripped by the throat.

Diira and I rode through a small crowd of undead in the courtyard, who did not react or even seem aware of our arrival. But the dead inside the cavernous old manor are alert enough. Shanaera twists in Taar’s grasp, struggling to break free. Three other undead, two men and one powerfully-built woman rush to help their leader. Momentarily shocked at my sudden arrival, they all turn wide eyes to gape at me and the flaming beast on which I ride.

I don’t give them a chance to recover.Go!I sing into Diira’s head.

She responds with a battle cry that could shatter glass. Charging into that hall, her hooves beat a swift percussion on the paving stones, a tempo in time with the song rushing from my soul to hers. The undead scatter at her approach, but not before her horn pierces one through the side and, with a toss of her head, sends him hurtling across the room. Without pausing Diira pivots and thrusts again, this time straight through Shanaera’s chest. She screams obscenities, writhing, clawing, tearing at the unicorn’s face in her efforts to get free.

Leaving her to her struggle, I leap from the saddle and rush to Taar’s side. He stares at me like I’m a ghost. Which, considering my state of being at our last parting, isn’t a bad assumption on his part. There’s no time to explain just now, however.

“Are you hurt?” I demand, reaching out to touch his bruised and bloodied face.

His eyes widen at the brush of my fingers. “You’re alive!” he breathes.

“Yes. It’s a long story.” I turn to look at the bindings securing his left wrist. “How are you—”

He catches my face with his freed hand, fingers slipping around to the back of my head. Before I can react, he draws me forcibly to him, presses me against his bare chest. I suck in a breath, my lungs suddenly far too tight.

“I thought I’d lost you.” His voice is a growl, spoken into my hair.

My throat thickens. “Me too,” I whisper. Temptation almost overwhelms me to rest there, to close my eyes, to let him hold me, let him protect and shield me from all the dangers surrounding us. But I didn’t come here to be rescued. This time I’m not the one in distress.

“Here, let’s get you free, shall we?” I say, planting my hands on his chest and pushing back.

“Watch out!” he roars. With a powerful wrench, he yanks me to one side just as a blade whistles through the air, missing my neck by inches. Still bound to the pillars, Taar pushes me roughly behind him. Quicker than thought he takes the length of dangling rope attached to his right wrist and lashes out with it. It wraps around the neck of the other undead woman. She drops her sword in surprise, both hands reaching to grasp the rope and pull it free. Taar yanks. She loses her footing, topples headlong to the floor. With a snarl, she starts to rise, one hand reaching for her weapon.

A hoof plants between her shoulder blades, flattens her to the floor. Diira’s horn flashes, pierces the corpse through the back of the neck. There’s a strangled cry, a brief moment of thrashing. Then the undead woman lies still.

Diira lifts her head, no blood staining her horn, and gives me a look.Are you hurt, Vellara?

I shake my head. She tosses her long forelock from her eyes, then whirls about, eager to pin down her next victim. I drag a breath into my lungs before pulling my knife from its sheath and turning back to Taar. He watches me, a stunned expression on his face. “What was that?” he asks, as I set to work cutting his bonds.

I open my mouth to respond, then shut it again. There will be time enough to explain if we get out of this alive. My sharp blade cuts through the last rope binding Taar’s leg. Thankfully he doesn’t press his question but swipes the corpse woman’s fallen sword from the floor and, by some instinct developed over long years of training, raises it over his head.

Just in time—Shanaera’s blade connects with his. He meets her gaze and holds it as he rises from a kneeling position. The air shrieks with the sound of steel on steel.

“You should have let me give you the virulium, Taar,” she says. With a heave of muscle, she pushes away from him, backs up several steps, and assumes a battle stance. “Now I’ll have to drag your sorry corpse back to the citadel untreated. You’ll be a hollow shell, like all your people.”

Taar’s teeth flash in a grimace. “Ilsevel,” he says, without taking his eyes off his foe, “get Elydark.”

Then he lunges. Sword crashes against sword as he rains a series of powerful blows down on her. Shanaera blocks them, her feet moving as nimbly as a dancer’s, using her lighter build to her advantage despite his superior strength.

I don’t want to leave him. Gods save me, I just found him again! But I’m no use in a fray, and Elydark might give Taar just the advantage he needs. A curse on my lips, I turn away.Diira!I sing.

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