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Chapter 64, Better Together

Creatures fight, roars of pain grate against my ears, but through it all, I feel everything.

We’re taking the fight to them. Down here in the catacombs of what once was dwarven tunnels is now a hub for La’Maciago’s forces of magical creatures. And the other Empath, the first I’d ever met besides myself, helped me gather energy to transfer a call to my allies. For what was coming, I needed a direct link to my people, to guide them so no one was left behind and the mages, the knights, and the thieves and assassins all went home to their families this night.

After we destroy a large portion of Darshius’ army, of course. With them infiltrating our city for who knows what reasons and trying to take over our royalty and kill the crown prince—it was about daggum time they paid.

With the other Empath’s help, the crashing of the weaving she sent me to communicate with everyone sends a gentle wave crashing over every creature and I feel them anew. All I must do is push the words from my mind and they will go where I wish. I know that I can send a message, but I—heck, how in the worlds did she do that?

I need to know how to do that!

A gentle feeling of humor comes from the Empath’s thread.

But the longer I keep this open, the longer I connect to those around me, the more cold numbness filter through me, washing through my veins, digging into my soul until I wonder why I am even here. What’s the use of fighting? What’s the use of anything? Everything ends in death, why not embrace it instead of running from it?

My Curse roaring it’s ugly head. I can feel other’s emotions and connect to other people and creatures threads of life, perhaps even their very souls, but if I overexert myself, coldness descends. A cold that strikes to my very core and sucks the life from my bones. It makes it to where I’m indifferent, numb.

Natasha, I whisper. She comes over, her face pinched with concern and her wings fluttering more than usual.

Are you certain this is the only way? she asks.

I don’t know any other, I whisper back, knowing that the feelings aren’t me but if I let them circulate much longer… I will be of no use to those around me.

She nods, bringing out a tiny ball that glimmers in her hand. I hold out my hand. And when it leaves her grip, it turns into a ball that shimmers when it touches my fingers. Now I know what it is, and what it can do. So I send my Gift into it.

I gasp as the threads burn against my senses. Everything becomes sharp, full, and promising. All cold and numbness recedes to be replaced by warmth. I suck in a breath. No wonder La’Maciago wants this so badly.

The Opes in my hand sends wave after wave of warmth through me. I almost feel as if, with it and my Gift, I would be unstoppable. I could reach across the continent and see if fey still lived like the fairies… just in hiding from humans. I could snip each and every thread here, with ease.

But I know better. That would destroy my Gift, who is made for life and not for death. She is made for freedom, not for bondage. Were I to force her to sever the life threads of so many… I worry it would kill us both. Or, at least, kill who we are.

And I’m just starting to like myself.

And then I feel the Bamshee. Their threads are encrusted with black. They gather as far away as they possibly can… and yet I sense them as if I were right beside them. They rip bark from trees, eating it, laughing in sharp barks and shoving each other as if they were… human. They guard tiny lizards who flick their tongues… and I realize they’re children. A female shows a little, crawling one with blue horns how to peel bark from the tree in a way that the tree can grow back and not harm it long term. Another digs up cockroaches from the forest, putting them in a platter of leaves and berries.

And I can feel how a simple command would have them running to us to assist. I stare at the tiny orb in my hand that’s about the size of my fist. This thing… it commands them? That’s the reason they came for it at Hans’?

Everything makes so much more sense. And a sorrow grows deep inside, a pain wells. So many I killed. I didn’t know they were essentially slaves following diabolical orders.

A part of me wants to call them here, to ask them for help… but they are too far away. In fact… they are so far away I’m surprised I can feel them. There is another large city between us, and that city is over fifty miles out.

When they were out of the grip of the witch, they didn’t attack. They chose to eat bark and seclude themselves as far away from this city as possible, taking care of their children instead of fighting back again.

So I do the one thing I can do and pray it doesn’t come back to haunt me.

I free them from the bondage of this Opes. The leader of them, the queen, I suppose, I feel her. And I ask her not to harm humans for what was done to them. She cuts her arm and howls to the skies… and then I’m back underground, fighting these creatures.

And then I send a message to those fighting the army of nightmarish creatures before me.

In the real world, Ran moves beneath me, feeling innately where I need to be.

I feel one behind her who sticks at her side tighter than the other Timber Wolves, one who is taking my measure while also—oh my word, he’s nervous. Like a boy coming to meet the family.

And heck, he should be daggum nervous. He don’t take care of my girl and he be dead. As in dead, dead.

ARIA, Ran says, and I feel a mixture of embarrassment and straight up mortification. If she were a girl, she’d be beet red in the face.

You were the one who went out and got married and pregnant without my permission!

I don’t need your permission!

BUT I WANTED TO BE THERE!

We both pause. I didn’t realize how deeply her going out and finding her man without me even meeting him and without her telling me hurts. I want her to be free and happy, but it feels like there’s a part of her I no longer know and I hate that. She’s my bond. My best friend. The one I love with all my soul. And she went out and made a huge life change without even letting me know.

I know, rider. Forgive me—I didn’t know how to tell you—

Ran, I sigh, leaning my forehead against her neck. A tear drips from my eye and soaks into her white mane. Are you happy? I ask softly.

She searches herself. Digs deep inside and finds the part of her where everything lay. There is pain, and sorrow, and regret—but what eclipses all of those? Joy, happiness, and hope. And I have my answer.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

As long as you are happy, I am happy, sweet girl. That is all I want for you. But you better heckin’ let me know before you make some other huge life changing decision, alright?

A rumbling purr echoes from the depths of her chest and vibrates through me.

We may make mistakes along the way—King only knows how many I have made—but I know she cares for me and I hope she knows I care for her as well. And that is what’s important.

I am sorry, my sister. If I could go back, I would never have kept it from you.

I know, sis. Of course I forgive you. Let’s move forward instead of looking to the past.

A tiny hint of bittersweet longing rises, but I know she’s happy, and that is most important to me.

“Now let’s hunt,” I whisperer. But you’re still getting peppermint in your venison when we get home, I tack on.

Her answering howl tinged with fury and amusement drags a grin from the depths of my soul.

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More creatures come from the depths. I begin to worry we’ve bit off more than a dragon can chew. The creatures emerge from the darkness, their eyes shimmering lamps down the never ending tunnel. Which means they are merely waiting, merely fighting for the chance to fight us.

And the ones before us are pushing us back, they are a beating force, slowly but surely whittling down at our wall of friends. A fox barks out a cry of pain. An eagle is shot from the sky with a shriek. A knight is thrown into a wall, going still. Fireballs, acid, and other attacks I can’t hardly bear to watch strike home.

With what the Empath gave me and Opes in hand… I enact the next stage.

I connect to the creatures, shivering as their soulless beings grate against the light of my own. Tar sludges through my soul in a meandering river. But I redirect it to one point.

A single creature in the middle of them all.

I feel bad for a moment, but then release the tar and it evaporates.

My Gift feels taxed. She doesn’t exactly feel cold or numb, but more like a muscle that has been worked until it quavers under even the slightest strain.

I gently set a hand on the water that is my Gift, cooing. Just a little longer, I whisper, Opes still in hand. I couldn’t have done this without the boost the Opes gave.

She gives me a shaky thumbs up.

When I open my eyes, the creatures have stopped throwing attacks. They still give half-hearted attacks, but their noses twitch and some even pant or flick out snake-like tongues to taste the air.

That poor creature is dead meat.

A circle begins around the creature, those around it backing away. It looks confused, even running out into the others and trying to bite them. But they push it back, and then one large creature emerges.

My eyes widen. They have a hierarchy. They… are they mindless beasts as I thought?

Tears prick my eyes, but I shove it back. Right now is not the time.

Before I can see further what happens when the screams begin, I turn to the others watching with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

The animals know the way to the surface… but I need them to go to a specific place where help is ready. So I reach out, searching… and there.

I send the direction, the scent, and the people waiting on the outside to the animals and I send directions to the people. It’s exhausting, connecting, linking, and directing so many people.

But if even one more gets out alive because of this, then its worth it.

Go, I whisper into their minds.

“GO!” General Verand roars, and those around me pop into action.

I direct them, feeling those who need the most help and sending the strongest to the ones who need to be carried.

The Timber Wolves pick up squirrels and sheep and other small creatures—one even grabs a human and another a fairy—in their mouths, turning to look at a big black wolf who stands beside my girl.

He glances over at Ran, she looks back at me. I give him a gentle smile when he looks back, his hazel eyes questing, seeking, and confusion within the depths.

“Go,” I reply to his unanswered question.

The wolves with injured creatures leap into action, racing for the direction where fresh air blows some of the smoke and stink of rotting and burning flesh deeper into the tunnels.

The rest, including the big black, stay with me and ran as squirrels scamper with rats in their mouths and dogs carry cats and mountain lions gently support rabbits and fox.

Wolves grab rabbits in gentle mouths, hawks grab ahold of moles, careful of their talons to not pierce the skin of the already wounded creatures, a bear grabs a wounded knight and helps him on his back, and the people grab a young Eldertree about the size of Jill, lifting her up, being careful of her singed bark. The nymphs, their long hair splayed around them and defying gravity as if they were in water, gently support fairies and let them rest in their hair that moves as if it’s alive.

The humans race after them, some—as in Xonier’s case—carrying two people, and others supporting limping men and woman between them and still others carrying creatures.

Trying to make sure all are taken out is a chore. I have to make sure to use the strongest for the strongest and still leave some to carry out smaller creatures. It’s worse than adding sums for the kingdom’s treasury.

A bear presented quite a large problem, especially when Ash refused to help.

In the end, it took another bear and two knights to get the bear moving to safety.

All scamper, limb, and fly in the direction I send, where I’ve already told the humans to be prepared for wounded and not to be alarmed at differing animals.

Until the only ones left are Silver, General Verand, Hans, Black, Nika, Ran, and the two wolves.

I slump over Ran’s back, setting another of the creatures as a tantalizing morsel to the enemy army when they begin to lose interest in the dead corpse up ahead.

I take a deep breath, my mind searching for any stragglers… but all are gone.

“When they stop, it’s going to be a race. Losing means death. Are you sure you want to stay?” I ask, keeping my eyes averted from the gory fight ahead which has devolved into a drunken free-for-all.

Silver raises an imposing brow. I roll my eyes, but give a tiny smile. I know he wouldn’t leave. Not again. And that brow says it all.

Nika gives me a broad grin, twirling her stilettos. “Sixth hath no fury like a girl with a knife,” she says.

The Black shoots her a beady glance. “That is incorrect.”

“Pshhaw. It is correct when it comes from my lips,” Nika replies, sticking out a lower lip in a sensual pout.

General Verand gives me a nod. The black wolf beside Aria meets my eyes with a blank stare. I almost crack a smile. That was as close to Arin’s stubborn stare as I’ve ever seen.

“I have something to ask of you,” I say, my voice low. His eyes meet mine, a hint of challenge within as if he knows what I need. “Can you carry the burden of my friend’s lives so they may live?”

The black wolf blinks, his ears flicking, as if that were unexpected.

Ran gives a tiny whine. The black’s eye flick over to her… and then he snorts, his eyes softening as he watches my girl. She pins her ears back, releasing a tiny growl. His ears prick on his forehead, and his tail gives a minute wag.

His deep amber gaze turns back to me. Measuring. Questioning. Seeking. I hold his eyes, not challenging, but merely letting him see me for what I am.

We will carry your burdens, for you are pack, booms a voice in my head.

I give a nod which is the closest thing I have to a bow on top of Ran.

“Silver, you’re with me. Nika and Black, take the red. General Verand, you’re on the black.”

“Are you certain they will carry us?” Nika asks, eying the wolf near her with something akin to horror. She rides blind lizards and is scared of a little wolf?

“Does thou not wish to have fur upon your skin, woman?” Master Black challenges.

Nika leaps, splatting against the side of the wolf, and levering herself on the creature’s back. The red wolf pins it’s ears and snaps at air, but otherwise stands still.

Nika’s breath comes in rapid bursts. She spits out red and white fur from her mouth, wiping her lips off with the back of her hand. Which only causes more fur to enter her mouth.

Master Black lithely throws his leg up behind her, snaking a hand around her waist and drawing her into him. It’s quite humorous. One tall and skinny woman with a portly man just about my height. And the portly man made the leap look easy.

But somehow, even still, they fit. Nika throws a grin back at Master Black, and he plucks a red wolf hair from the corner of her mouth with a lazy grin hovering on his lips.

General Verand is on the black wolf when Silver hops up behind me, putting his hands around my waist with a gentle squeeze, just letting me know he’s there. I put a hand over his and squeeze back, waiting until—there. Most of the injured are either out or very close to it based on their emotions of relief and hope.

“Let’s go, we’ll get a head start. Most of our people are out of the tunnels,” I say, laying a hand on Ran’s shoulder. I grab the Opes from my cloak, knowing I’ll need it again as my stores are steadily depleting. I feel the warmth cover me and all the coldness and numbness recedes and everything about my Gift makes so much more sense.

She gives a tiny yip, spins around, and increases her pace to what would equate to a horse’s lope. But hers is more rolling than a horse, it’s the power of an apex predator mixed with the lithe gait of a cat.

I glance back over my shoulder, seeing a few behind me stop their fight, some going down other tunnels or back the way they came while others chased us.

If they get too close, drop me and save your babies, I whisper to Ran.

She doesn’t stop, nor does she look back, but her muscles tense and bunch beneath me as she doggedly increases her pace.

You know better than to ask me that, idiot, she replies.

A tiny smile parts my lips, and then I release the beacon I’d gathered. The one which tastes like a delicious morsel to those behind me.

And I place it on myself.