Page 2 of Blood Bearon
Yet someone was trying.
“Assemble the Guard,” Khove said, but Kirell was already speaking into his phone, issuing orders.
“You two. Get back to Knox and the Queen. Get her to safety immediately. Do not let her boss you around. This is real.”
Khove ached to go himself, but knew full well that Kaelyn would send him back to the frontlines. The Queen’s Own were the fiercest, most deadly group of warriors available to defend the property, and he was their head. While the Champion of the House was the best individual fighter, Khove knew he wasn’t far behind. He would be needed.
Reality ripped apart on his left, and the Magi of the House stepped through, along with the aforementioned Champion, and the Assassin. Alarm bells began ringing throughout the House.
“We need to get there fast,” Khove said. “We cannot wait for reinforcements.”
The Magi nodded, dismissing the rent in reality he’d ripped to travel to their side from the Throne Room with one step. Then he closed his eyes for a moment, and gestured. The sword in his hand glowed green and ripped another rent. “This one leads to the Western wall. I’ll leave it open. Tell your men to use it to get there.”
Then he stepped through it and was gone. Khove took a split second to steel himself, and then he followed the Magi. Traveling through rents was less than pleasant, but there was no faster way to travel.
His senses immediately recoiled. The sound of the magic being unleashed against the wards was ten times more intense this close, and he stumbled, overwhelmed by the noise momentarily.
The others quickly followed, five of them against whatever was on the other side of the stone wall. There were no signs of attack yet, which meant that whatever was coming, it was magical in nature. No army of Canim came pouring over on all fours, teeth bared and ready to render flesh from bone. There were no men from House Panthera either, the huge and deadly cats easily a match for a bear. No birds of prey stooped from above, which meant House Raptere wasn’t present either.
And of course, no dragons could be seen in the sky, but he didn’t bother to check. House Dracos was no more, as far as anyone could tell, the last of their members fading from the world over a century ago.
Another blast of brilliant red energy coursed into the ward right in front of them, as if their unseen attacker knew they were there and waiting. The gold shield burst into appearance, wavered, then developed holes. It was faltering.
A chorus of screeches and yells from over the wall announced the impending attack as shapes and creatures flung themselves over and into the shield. The first handful were ground to dust, their magical bodies no match for the ward. But as more struggled against the shield, parts of bodies began to drop through to the inside.
“Ready yourselves,” Khove said, though he needn’t have spoken. The men with him were all trained professionals, seasoned in battle. Uranium-coated swords slipped from lead-lined sheath’s, their radiation-spewing blades the perfect match for anything magic.
The first creature burst through the ward and lunged at them, only to be decapitated by a casual swing from the Champion’s blade. Another followed, and then a third. One by one the others stepped forward into the line, blades whirling as they fought back the tide.
A mighty roar announced yet a further blast of magic, this one bright green. It burst against the shield, opening a wide gap. A horde of creatures poured through in all shapes and sizes.
“Filthy fairies,” Khove growled, his blade taking a minotaur in the chest and slicing it in half, the radiation dispelling the magical flesh as it went.
Nearby, a pack of centaurs formed up on the inside of the wall and bore down on the Magi. The Fae came in all types, mythical creatures of lore summoned from another reality by magic users. They had long been absent from the mortal plane, but it appeared someone had figured out the lost magic necessary to call them forth. It wasn’t the first time he’d fought them recently either, an ominous sign.
The quintet backed away, holding the ground as best they could, every second increasing the likelihood they were about to be overwhelmed. None of them slowed or even faltered. If this was how they died, defending their home, then so be it. The horde of Fae would leave many of their number behind to win this ground.
Khove grunted as he took a blow to the side, the hoof not drawing blood, but probably cracking a rib or three. Nearby, the Magi let loose with a scythe of red magic that cleaved a humongous hole in the enemy’s numbers, but it filled instantly as more came over the wall through the hole in the ward. Khove didn’t know how much longer they could hold. Their line was becoming ragged as the Fae drove between them, splitting them up, surrounding them.
This was the end.
A fierce bellow sounded, like a foghorn in the night. Then the earth began to tremble underfoot.
“What have they got now?” he complained, dodging a taloned hand, one sword casually flicking out and removing it at the elbow from the owner.
The rumble grew more intense, and Khove’s eyes kept darting over to the wall, expecting something to come smashing through the solid stone.
Instead, the Fae around him slowed, their eyes looking about uneasily. A moment later, they began to back away. Khove frowned at the reprieve, finally able to look behind him.
A solid line of titanic bears bore down on him and the beleaguered defenders of the wall. Running shoulder to shoulder, they sounded like an earthquake on four legs. The noise was deafening, a roar made from nothing but their weight as they ran. Each bear topped out at nearly two tons and standing fifteen feet or more high if they reared up.
On they came, closing the distance in seconds. The mighty creatures flowed around the five exhausted defenders, slamming into the Fae like a steamroller. They didn’t stop, because fifty feet behind them came another line. And then another.
House Ursa had been awakened, and now the Fae faced the full might of the bear shifters, angry their home had been attacked. It wasn’t a defeat. It wasn’t a route.
It was a slaughter.
Freed of his duties to hold against the Fae, Khove watched as the Magi went to war with the unknown mage on the other side of the wall. He was constantly amazed at the progress the newcomer had made in the past month. Though, it helped he had someone driving him, he thought, as a smaller, lither figure stepped up next to the Magi and added her magic to his own, the two of them evidently making it clear no attack would succeed today.
