Except for Victoria, no one slept the few remaining hours before dawn. They remained awake and on alert, ready to engage should the drák'enaal come for them as well. To their anxious relief, they did not. The sky was overcast as dawn approached, and a thick fog rose from the river, haunting and ominous. Fitting, considering what had occurred only hours earlier.

  Lilly had spoken truly. Whatever magic laced the tea she'd drunk left Victoria feeling refreshed like never before. However, hearing what befell the third boat while she slept brought her good mood down a few notches. Seeing her as hale as ever, Lilly put Victoria back to work conjuring the fire, which she was allowed on the conditions that she keep it small and it be done within the cabin where it would remain out of sight.

  Their first encounter with another of the river folk happened a short while after dawn, when the world became visible around them again. His news brought them no comfort. A great beast from beyond the Waldemarian mountains had been attacking villages, killing at will, and leaving in its wake a path of destruction across the kingdom. He advised caution if they insisted on continuing upriver, as the beast was reported to be making its way in a straight line westward.

  The farther up the river they traveled, the more urgency to the warnings they received. Suggestions of caution became words of forewarning that urged them not to continue, as villages within a day's travel were reportedly being attacked. They would reach the village of Arhenor before dark, thanks in part to their twilight flight from the drák'enaal, but now they worried what they would find when they did.

  They were given reason when they came within an hour of their destination. Boats fleeing down the river and riders along the banks shouted warnings to turn back, that Arhenor was burning and that a great black wyvern of unnatural size was to blame. Alarm flashed in the glances they exchanged with one another.

  "I have a feeling we all know who it is," Lilly said grimly.

  Captains Gilmeare and Bechard convened with the Súre'antó to decide their course of action, and after several minutes of discussion, they agreed to stay their course to Arhenor. The beast would have moved on from the village by this time, and the two remaining boats, though only made to sleep eight, could carry more than that downriver to safety. They would make berth at the village as planned, and decide from there how to go about continuing on foot.

  As Arhenor drew nearer, the air carried the scent of acrid smoke and the glowing ashes of fires that yet burned. Tension aboard the boats mounted as the village came into sight; what was left of it. Gasps and murmurs of disbelief rose from the silence.

  The entire village and all its inhabitants were gone. Buildings and homes had been reduced to rubble. Nothing was left but their charred, skeletal remains, brittle frames collapsed and smoldering. The trees stood like ominous clawed fingers reaching to the sky, wisps of smoke still rising from their scorched, naked exteriors. Fields where crops once grew were incinerated, nothing left but smoldering ash. The dock, though, had been left untouched.

  "Why destroy everything but leave that?" Soren said aloud to no one in particular.

  "Because it is Assyria," Ozan replied gravely. Out of all of them, he was the only one who had known Assyria firsthand. "We've annoyed her with our noncompliance, and innocent lives are bearing the cost. She knew where we were and where we were bound. She's headed us off and is daring us to continue.

  There was a brief silence, broken by Captain Gilmeare. "We have no choice." He turned from the decimated shore. "I've lost six men this past night, and you've lost all but three of your own to this point. You need King Naverion's aid if you intend to do this thing."

  He was right, though no one liked it. They had no choice but to stick to the plan and continue on foot to Astheas; and whatever hell awaited them.

  The Súre'antó called their winds, pushing them past the docks to swing around in a wide arc, turning to flow with the current, then ceasing so that they drifted gently along the wooden pilings. Two men from each boat leapt ashore, securing the ropes that held them in place. They disembarked cautiously, gathering along the dock to await orders.

  The sun was beginning its descent, and the shadows of the scorched and mangled trees began to stretch toward them. Silently and on guard, they filed along the dock and began making their way through the remains of the massacred village. It became apparent the farther they walked, what had happened to the people here. Those who had managed to escape were long gone from this place, but those who hadn't had suffered a terrible fate. Their corpses lay scattered everywhere, in charred heaps or fallen victim to the effects of a horrific miasma; their flesh bubbled grotesquely, beginning to slough from the bone as it liquefied.

  The foul odors of burned and poison-rotted flesh hung thick in the air, and many of the travelers fought back the waves of nausea they evoked. Having never in her wildest dreams imagined the kind of carnage she saw before her, Victoria succumbed to it, heaving violently as tears streamed down her face. She was shaking all over when she was done, and she huddled against Soren as he helped her keep walking.

  Lilly approached them, handing a square of plain cloth to Victoria. "Cover your mouth and nose with this, it'll help with the smell." Her other hand came up to re-cover her own face with an identical scrap of cloth.

  A light floral scent wafted from the cloth, and Victoria pressed it to her face gratefully, not bothering to question what it was she was breathing in; it wasn't the putrid scent of death, she didn't care. She pulled the hood of her cloak as far over her head as she could, hoping to blind herself to the horror surrounding them, and trusting to Soren to guide her steps.

  The destruction continued past the village, far into the outskirts. This would be the path they followed, a scorched trail of death and devastation. In the distance, through the lowering rays of the sun, they could see the smoke from the fires that blazed ahead of them.

  They would make no fire tonight. Assyria was too close, and they were too exposed and ill-equipped to risk drawing any attention to themselves. They found an area several yards into the trees that hadn't been ravaged by the fires, and quickly and quietly began setting up their tents in a tight cluster. They ate their dry rations in silence, on edge and jumping at shadows, flinching at the slightest sound. When the last of the light was fading from the sky, and darkness cloaked the world around them, they retreated to their tents.

  Most of them slept fitfully, if at all, forcing their eyes to remain closed only for them to fly open wide at the possibility of any perceived sound. More than once they were startled by what sounded like a woman's screams in the distance. Sheer mental exhaustion afforded more than a few of them the only sleep they got that night.

  After what seemed like an eternity of tense darkness, the sky to the east finally began to lighten. With the light came a slight sense of relief, but only in that they could see around them again. The forest around them was eerily quiet, and nothing else seemed to stir as they rose from their tents. The silence made it easier to hear the faint echo of a great roar far in the distance. They glanced around nervously at one another.

  "Let's get moving." Captain Bechard broke the silence, his voice grave and hushed. "The sooner we get where we need to be, the sooner we'll know exactly what it is we're up against."

  With reluctant sighs and nods of agreement, they hastened to pack up their things. Within half an hour they were picking their way back through the trees, and setting back out on the road just as the smallest part of the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. No one dared speak as they moved along, lest they draw attention or distract themselves; the ability to react in an instant would not be risked for idle chatter, and everyone needed to be on high alert.

  That didn't stop Victoria from being distracted by her own thoughts, though. All the silence gave her plenty of time to think, and to overthink. She was too lost in her own head to notice that her face had twisted into a grimace and her entire body was quivering with tension, and when Soren laid his hand on her shoulder to get her attention she flinched and stumbled over her own feet.

  "Everything okay?" Soren asked quietly, the familiar look of concern was etched on his handsome face.

  Victoria nodded, blushing. "I'm fine." Despite the fiery destruction, the air was cooler here, and she shivered as she pulled her cloak tighter around her.

  Soren grasped her hand, lacing his fingers with hers and squeezing gently. His thumb stroked hers as he smiled softly at her. As ever, his smile was infectious, and Victoria couldn't help but return it, and she could feel some of the tension in her body ease.

  But only so much, and only for so long.

  Twice more they came upon the same terrible destruction they found in Arhenor. As the elf king's city drew near, and the area became more populated, the number of innocent dead rose. It was no easier to bear either time than the first. It was worse.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Here there were survivors, and their wailing cries of grief and pain could be heard with every step. The agonized moans of the injured and dying mingled with the keening sobs of the living. Men and women rushed here and there, administering what aid they could to those who yet lived, while some carried hastily made litters bearing away the lifeless bodies of those who did not. The dead were many, too many for proper burials, so their corpses were being carefully stacked on a large funeral pyre. Between the stench of fresh death and the cries of mourning, it was nearly unbearable.

  Many warned them not to continue, some even begged them. The beast was not attacking in a straight line, as it had before it crossed the Nenocuil River. Villages miles to the north and south of the road had been attacked in the night, and word had reached them that Astheas was under attack.

  Fear began to rise amongst them, and though some hid it better than others, it was evident in the worried glances they cast at one another. They wished they could turn back. They wished they could abandon their mission and run far away and hide from the danger. How many more innocent lives would be lost, though, if they did?

  They had no choice. Running would only ensure that countless more people would die. They had to keep going.

  At the edge of the last village before Astheas, five scant miles away, they found a hidden area away from the road to conceal themselves and rest before the final march to the city. They were all on edge, and the mental fatigue was taking its toll. Assyria was near enough now that her taunting roars were at times too close for comfort, and a handful of times had found themselves rushing for cover. For the moment, she seemed to have moved further away, and they took advantage while they had the chance.

  They needed to make a plan. According to Captain Gilmeare, the king's city was built in the shadow of a great mountain range, against and from the sheer cliffs themselves. Outside the city walls, for a full mile all around the land lay open, a handful of boulders and trees here and there, but nothing that would provide sufficient cover for them to get anywhere near the city unseen.

  Victoria felt dark waves of fear and panic rise within her, and her heartbeat quickened as she moved away from the others. To come this far and to have endured this much only to find themselves unable to get where they needed to go was maddening. All she wanted was to go home, and this sick, sadistic woman was determined not to let that happen. Suddenly she felt her fear changing, and the stone around her neck began to glow red. She leaned against a tree as she struggled to control her breathing.

  Lilly knew what was happening. "Soren, go to her," she instructed, pointing to where Victoria stood several yards away.

  Seeing her in distress, he moved quickly to her side, and Lilly was right behind him.

  "Keep breathing, Victoria," Lilly said calmly as she came to stand in front of her. "Try to stay calm. Remember, he can only take control if you let him."

  Her words fell on deaf ears as Victoria struggled against the angry, raging force inside her, threatening to break free. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes tight, before she wrenched the stone on its golden chain from around her neck. Her eyes flew open and she glared golden fire into the stone's glowing crimson depths, her anger rising with a fury at the being within.

  "Listen here you sonofabitch!" she growled in a voice that was both hers and not. "You brought me here to do this thing. If you kill me for your own goddamn impatience, then by all the power in my soul may yours be damned to suffer for eternity confined as you are! You hear me?!"

  The fire in her eyes blazed, matching the intensity of the stone's furious glow. A battle of wills; and one Victoria would win. In the end the intense light in the stone faded, becoming once again no more than a gaudy accoutrement.

  The chain rattled in her trembling grasp as she straightened, and she was grateful for Soren's arm around her, keeping her steady as she regained her composure. She leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and taking several deep breaths.

  "I told you you don't give yourself enough credit." Lilly smiled kindly. "He gave you the slip once, I knew you wouldn't let him do it again. Now go sit down and rest while you can. We're nearly there."

  They stayed where they were a while longer, discussing how they should proceed. They were less than two hours from Astheas, and had maybe four hours of daylight left. Supplies were running dangerously low, and it would be too risky to make camp with Assyria so close. The one possible option they really had would leave them completely exposed. And it was dangerous; very dangerous. If they hid themselves along the tree line, and waited for darkness to fall, they might have a chance of crossing the plain unseen and reaching the gates under the cover of night. It wasn't an idea anyone liked, but considering their situation, they were left with little choice.

  That's how they would go about it, then. They would all place their lives in the hands of chance, and pray that Assyria would not see them.

  Before they made ready to leave, Soren pulled Victoria aside, a short distance away from the others. Lilly suppressed one of her cheeky smiles as she glanced sideways at their departure. When they were far enough away to not be heard, he stopped, turning to face her. He took her hands in his, bringing one to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles.

  "Victoria, I need to say something...in case things go badly tonight." His hands fidgeted with hers nervously. "I...you've changed something in me, and I've never known anything like the feeling I get when I'm with you. If...if tonight should be our last night together, then...I need you to know...a-and you don't have to say anything back," he stammered. "Victoria... I... I love you."

  Her breath caught in her throat, butterflies danced in her belly, and her heart began to race. Her parents were the only people in her life that ever said it regularly, and she had only ever dated a few guys, and non of them ever said they loved her. This feeling inside her was new, and strange, and exhilarating; it felt like some great force inside was trying to burst forth from every part of her. The stone flickered to life, shining with golden white brilliance, dimmed only by the fabric of her shirt.

  His hand rose to cup her cheek, the other curved around to the small of her back, pulling her closer. His jade-and-gold eyes searched hers as his breaths became slow and ragged. The white-gold flames began to rise and swirl around them as she looked into his eyes. When she spoke it was barely a whisper.

  "Say it again."

  "I love you." His mouth descended upon hers as the words left his lips.

  The flames roared, becoming a shining inferno around them, swirling, reaching ever higher. The world around them disappeared, and it was only the two of them and the raging fires of passion. In the span of only a few seconds, if for no one else but them, time stood still, and when at last they parted, they felt as if they'd been absent a long time.

  Only when Jasper called to them did the flames dissipate and they became conscious of the world around them again.

  "Time to go," Soren said quietly. He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead before taking her hand again and leading them back to join the others.

  They crossed the last few miles in silence, keeping their eyes and ears to the sky for any signs that Assyria was near. When they came within sight of the tree line, the sun was making its descent, and the space between the trees where the road lay glowed like a portal. Here, Captain Gilmeare signaled for them to halt.

  "I will scout ahead," he whispered. "Bechard, come with me. The rest of you conceal yourselves away from the road. Stay alert, and stay quiet."

  They moved quickly to obey, hiding themselves among the brush and brambles as the captains continued ahead. Motionless and silent, they waited, tense as harp strings as the vicious roars echoed loudly a mere mile from their hiding place. It felt like an eternity before they heard the sound of booted footsteps coming back in their direction. Captain Bechard's face reappeared through the brush, and he signaled for them to come out.

  "Assyria is attacking the city as we speak." His voice was hushed as he turned back the way he came and gestured for everyone to follow. "We must move quickly while she is distracted. We will stay just off the road, up ahead at the edge of the tree line. No matter what you see or hear, remain hidden unless Gilmeare or myself gives the order to move. When no light remains in the sky, we make for the city. Cover that stone well." He pointed to Victoria as they moved. "If that thing decides to start flashing and flaring while we're out in the open we're all as good as dead."

  Captain Gilmeare was waiting for them, his silhouette barely visible against the lowering sun as he peeked from behind a tree, keeping a close eye on the commotion ahead. For the moment, Assyria's full attention was on the city. She hurled spit-fire against the high white walls and towers, and she used her command of the wind to blow her deadly miasma through the streets.

  Victoria's heart raced and adrenaline pumped through her body with every step that brought them closer to the clearing, closer to what could very well be certain death. Assyria's roars mixed with the screaming of innocent citizens and the overall sounds of destruction carried loud and clear over the open plain. She gulped as fear began to grip her, and she fought to keep her breathing steady as the blood pounded loudly in her ears.

  She didn't know when she began running, only that all of a sudden she was. She didn't understand how she managed to slip past the others, yet somehow she had, and now she watched on in horror as her body moved of its own volition, carrying her out into the open field. Of their own accord, her arms readied her bow as she sprinted farther from safety; faster than she'd ever run in her life. Inside she was screaming, pleading, futilely fighting against whatever force was leading her like a lamb to slaughter.

  This must be done. A voice that seemed familiar spoke to her from somewhere both within her and all around her.

  Somehow, not a single other person had noticed her disappearance as they began ducking and filing into their hiding places; not until she was too far for anyone to stop her.

  "What the hell is she doing?!" Captain Gilmeare growled, and he hesitated only for a second before he began sprinting after her.

  Panic erupted when the others realized what was happening, and they shouted for her to stop, but it was useless. Jasper attempted to restrain Soren as he made to go after her as well.

  "Victoria, no!" Soren shouted, wrenching himself free of his father's grip and bolting hell-for-leather behind Captain Gilmeare.

  Out in the field, Victoria's body began to glow like a beacon, and the bow in her hand blazed with golden fire as she raised it, loosing a shimmering golden arrow into the sky. The target was the wyvern's attention, and the arrow struck true. Assyria's head snapped in their direction as she circled above the city. Her crimson eyes glowed brightly as she spotted her prey, turning toward them and shrieking loudly, summoning a fierce wind behind her.

  Victoria's eyes grew wide and she struggled in vain against the body she no longer controlled. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, and the world had gone silent except for the echo of her own frantic heartbeat. She wasn't running anymore, she stood with her feet planted firmly as she raised the flaming bow again, drawing back the arrow and aiming directly for the beast that was quickly closing the gap between them.

  This must be done. The voice said again, and hot tears began to run down her face as Assyria made to bear down on her.

  Just as Assyria was mere feet away, and Victoria stood braced for an unpleasant death, an intense, blinding blue flash exploded between them. There was no time to react, it happened too quickly and too forcefully. One second she was face-to-face with death, the next she felt herself being thrown backwards. Soren's anguished cry was the last thing she heard, and then there was nothing.