He shook his head. “No. The nature and strength of the residual magick combines with the souls. Instead of making individual ghosts, they become one single beast. Lombrey de la Mort.”
Oh, just awesome. And here Urian had thought that Apollymi had the lion’s share of fun toys. No, leave it to the fey bitch queen to have something known as the Death Shadow.
Falcyn stared at him. “Are you telling me that we’re facing Shadow’s evil twin?”
Brandor laughed. “His prince underling, actually. If Shadow were here, he could control Lombrey and force him into retreat. Or at least order him to stand down.”
Why did those words make him sick to his stomach?
“Without him?” Urian asked.
Glancing around at the numerous warriors the darkness was spawning, Brandor sighed. “We’re screwed. Lombrey’s a nasty bastard. Filled with the screams and righteous agony of a million innocent victims. They say it’s driven him mad and so he attacks everyone who comes into his domain. Indiscriminately.”
Medea scowled. “Then how does Shadow quell him?”
“Hell if I know. For that matter, no one knows for sure. Only that he goes without fear into wherever it is that Lombrey lives and emerges victorious.”
Falcyn growled in frustration. “Well, that’s … fucking useless.”
Urian sighed heavily. They had to find some way to awaken Xyn. Get Maddor free without killing him. Awaken the other dragons.
And stop Lombrey from attacking them.
Or killing them.
Urian felt sick to his stomach.
We’re doomed.
Falcyn coughed, “Um, guys, I have an idea that I’m pretty sure you’re gonna hate.”
*
Hours later, Maddor stepped back in uncertainty. “I-I don’t understand.”
“It’s true, Maddor. At least I think you’re Maddor.” Provided the Crom was still in Maddor’s dragon body and the gods hadn’t screwed with them again.
’Cause that was how their luck was running. Ever the rubric of “solve one problem and create another.”
“Falcyn sent me here to watch over you. I’m the one who goaded Medea into going to Falcyn, hoping he’d be able to get to you and help you out of here. I didn’t count on his overreaction that would result in her death. Guess I should have.”
Urian’s breath caught in his throat as he heard that unexpected, sweet lilting voice that he’d thought was lost to his dreams.
Xyn.
He wanted to run to her. To hold her and kiss those lips. But this, right now, was between her and her brothers, so he stayed out of it.
Pale and standing on unsteady feet, she had one arm braced against the wall nearest her.
“Xyn? Is it really you?”
She gave Falcyn a wan smile. “Greetings, brother.”
His own limbs shaking, he crossed the room to gather her into his arms. “How?”
“I don’t know. One minute, I was frozen and then I was here. Wherever this is.”
Falcyn fisted his hand in her long flame-red hair that parted to show off her pointed ears.
Urian couldn’t move or breathe as her translucent, vibrant green gaze seared him. She was still one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.
Her presence staggered him. He fell back and leaned against a stone for support, because he didn’t trust his legs to hold him. Not right now.
She pulled back to stare at Maddor. “Falcyn is your father, Maddor. Just as Blaise is your son.”
That sucked every bit of the air from the room and had the same impact as a nuclear bomb detonating in their midst.
Blaise stumbled back. “W-w-w-what?”
Xyn nodded. “I was there when you were born. Your mother was furious, thinking your albinism had to do with Max’s curse.”
“What curse?”
Falcyn winced. “I never told Blaise the truth, Xyn. He had no idea about that.”
Her jaw went slack. “I’m so sorry. I assumed he knew.”
Falcyn shook his head. “By the time I learned about his birth, he was grown. I didn’t have the heart to tell him then. Thanks, sister. You were always good at ratting me out.”
Maddor sat down. “Blaise is my son? How?”
Xyn sighed. “Ormarra. She hid her pregnancy from you and was hoping to parlay Blaise’s birth to her advantage.”
“When I was born deformed, she tried to kill me.”
Brogan moved to hold Blaise. “You’re not deformed!”
“And I killed her for her actions against you, Blaise.” Xyn said. “You were still wet from cracking open your egg when I took you to be raised by your adoptive father. The only truth you knew was that your father was the leader of the mandrakes.”
He’d just assumed it was the mandrake before Maddor because only a tiny handful of fey knew Maddor was the first of their breed.
Another lie told that was meant only to wound and hurt, and divide a family.
Damn those who sought only to make mischief for mischief’s sake. They were the root of all evil. Not greed or money.
Maddor growled at Xyn. “You should have told me about him!”
“I was planning to once I knew he was safe, but I was trapped here before I had the chance.”
With a fierce roar, Maddor started for Xyn, only to be stopped by some unseen force.
“You can’t harm her,” Brogan reminded him. “I haven’t given you her name.”
“I hate all of you!” he roared.
Falcyn glared at him. “How dare you! Feel free to hate me all you want. I deserve it. Blaise, however, has never done anything to deserve your animosity for him. He’s your son. One you’ve treated like hell and mocked over the centuries for no reason whatsoever. You owe him an apology.”
Maddor gaped at Falcyn. “You’re daring to lecture me on parenthood? Seriously?”
“Yeah and I’ll bust your ass, boy! Don’t ever think I can’t take you in a fight. I promise you, I’ve eaten much tougher hides than yours and used their scales for shoes. If you want to act like a child, then I’ll treat you like one.”
The real Crom made a noise deep inside the dragon’s body.
“What’s going on, Brogan? He about to spew?”
She shook her head. “It’s the strife between the two of you. It feeds him. Makes him—”
The Crom dissolved all the bonds that held his dragon’s body and stood up.
“Stronger,” she finished with a squeak.
Blaise took her hand and pulled her behind him. “What’s he doing now?”
“Not sure.” Falcyn put his hand out to stop Medea from engaging the beast as she moved in for an attack.
Because the Crom wasn’t the only dragon rising.
All of them were and he wasn’t sure what that signified. But with their luck, it wasn’t a good thing.
“Maddor?” Falcyn glanced to his son. “You want to return to your real body?”
His whip sizzled as he turned a slow circle to survey the number of original dragons who were now a little more than just plain pissed off. And since they had no other target, they were circling the only enemy they found in the room.
Them.
The whole group. And that included their leader that they couldn’t identify as a dragon since he was in the Crom’s body and had no head.
“Yeah, I think I do.”
Urian couldn’t blame him there. Judging by the mood of the newly animated dragons, anything not one of their scaly clan was about to get eaten.
Lombrey rose up in an effort to block the dragons, but they passed right through his noncorporeal form.
Urian rolled his eyes. “Good to be a shadow, huh? Makes me wish I were one.” He lifted his sword and shield and prepared to attack.
Just as Falcyn renewed that stupid incantation that had gotten them into this mess, a bright light flashed near them. It was intense and searing. So much so that it temporarily blinded them.
Until Acheron’s demon companion Simi jumped out of it.
Dressed in her short purple skirt, black-and-red-striped leggings, and a matching corset, she drew up short as she surveyed everyone around her. Her red horns sprouted on top of her head as a tail came out from underneath her short skirt. A set of leathery bat wings sprang out, letting Urian know the not-so-little Charonte Goth demon meant business.
He laughed. Yeah, they had no idea what they were dealing with. Hide your children. Hide your wife.
Hide your pets.