Levi nods. "You have my thanks. Kayla is a valued blacksmith." He motions to his men. "Now, I’m sure you will follow us quietly. It would be such a shame to upset the townsfolk."
I draw my sword. "We leave. Now."
Levi chuckles. "If you try, my men will beat you. They will cut into your friend and do far worse to you. I’ll make sure my entire garrison gets a turn. Who knows, maybe I will even partake at the end."
I glance at Tavian. "We can’t surrender."
He looks around, at the traders running their stores, at the wives drying their clothes, at children playing with stones. "I’m sorry," he says. "But I cannot fight here. I cannot harm these innocent people."
I remember last time he shifted, how he attacked without cause and reason. I remember how he almost killed me.
And I drop my sword.
Levi smirks and opens his hand, revealing a vial of purple liquid. "Now, would you be so kind as to drink this? It will help make things more manageable?
I grab the vile and swallow my share, then pass it to Tavian. His emerald eyes are the last things I see before my strength fades, and I fall into nothing.
Chapter 15
VENGEANCE
"They are strong, Ari. Powerful. We are the Fallen. The first of our kind to come to this world. The original cursed. You wouldn't stand a chance against them. Against any of us."
—Fenris Vane
I say goodbye to Es and Pete, and then we march north. Varis does not follow. "This is a fight between vampires. It does not concern the Fae." I try to argue with him. To convince him that defeating Levi is good for all, but he does not listen. In truth, we’ve barely talked since I unleashed the Darkness and burned down the grove. And we barely talk now. "Goodbye Arianna. May we see each other again." Then he leaves, flying off on Zyra into the sunrise.
It takes a day to reach the outskirts of Stonehill, and we set camp in the forest, making no fires in fear of attracting attention. Our army is not great. Only a few hundred. So we will wait for tomorrow, when the rebellion begins.
Fen and I share a tent, but we do not repeat lasts night's romantic interlude, nor do we speak of it. I think, perhaps, we both worry that to do so would be to break the happiness we have found. And so, we simply enjoy each other’s company, joking and laughing, falling asleep side by side.
The next day, I am jolted awake. "Grab your gear," says Fen. "The rebellion started early."
I don my armor and grab Spero, then find my horse. Dean, Asher, Fen and I lead the front lines as we emerge from the forest and onto a hill overlooking the city. The sun has just begun to rise, casting everything in dark orange and leaving long shadows.
We wait.
We wait for the gate to open.
And when it does, we charge forward, shouting battle cries and screaming to the heavens. Our soldiers cut down everyone in their path. Blood and mud slashes through the air. Men and women scream in pain, clutching wounds and dismembered limbs. Buildings are set on fire. Horses lose their riders and flee in panic, trampling people to death. It is chaos. Everywhere. And I can only hope the innocent are safe, for I cannot tell. It all looks like madness and death.
Amidst the turmoil, Fen leads me and his brothers to the side of the castle, to a secret passage behind a waterfall few but him know of. He taps on a rock embedded in a stone wall, and a doorway opens. Quickly, we rush inside, and Fen closes the passage behind us. Dim torches light our way, as we run through cramped tunnels and over small stairs. When we reach a dead end, Fen taps another rock in the wall, and the way before us opens. I cast an illusion on us all, muffling our steps, and we creep into the castle.
I know this place.
The dungeons.
The Warden sits at a table, eating a loaf of bread, his hands still bloody from his nasty work of torture. He starts to turn, about to see us, but then Fen leaps forward, and in one movement takes off his head. "One of Levi’s" he says, spitting on the dead corpse.
"We need to make haste," says Dean. "Before Levi realizes we are in the castle and tries to flee." I nod, and we move for the stairs. But something catches my eye.
A man in the corner, broken and bloodied, his back shredded into ribbons of flesh and skin.
Marco!
I run to his side and break the chains that bind him with my sword. "Fetch him some water. Now!"
Asher obliges, brining me a jug from the table, and I pour the cold water down Marco’s throat.
He gulps down what he can, then turns away, signaling he is finished. His face is bruised and purple. Barely recognizable. When he looks at me, he smiles. His voice is barely a whisper. "Arianna… you came back…"
I nod, stroking his hair in soothing motions. "Yes. You’re safe now."