“Stand back!” Camille’s voice echoed through the fray, and we all obeyed immediately. Any time Camille was dealing with magic and yelled for a duck-and-cover, we had learned to duck and cover. It was bad enough when her spells worked, but if they backfired?
She held out her hands and a flash of silver raced from her palms—the Moon Mother’s magic. And the Moon Mother was a direct enemy of Telazhar and all his revolt stood for.
The bolt hit the necromancer in the head, and for once, her magic didn’t backfire. She drove all her force into it, building it to a high-pitched shriek. As she let go of the silver fire, the ray snaked around his body, squeezing hard. A rumble sounded overhead and then a bolt of lightning raced from the sky to hit him square on. Like water dropped on a hot stove, Telazhar turned to vapor, the spirit seal falling to the ground where he had been standing.
At that moment, the lychkonneg roared and charged toward us. Just because his summoner had vaporized didn’t mean that we were out of hot water yet.
Smoky turned toward the towering warrior and, wings back, slammed against him. The warrior was strong, but dragons? Stronger. The skeletal king went down in a shower of bones and sparks.
“We have to destroy that gate—” Camille looked utterly spent.
Vapor shimmered into his human form. He walked silently over to the Demon Gate and whispered in a low, guttural voice. A moment later, the gate imploded. He turned back, smiling cagily at me. “I don’t live in the Netherworld for nothing.”
I stumbled back, realizing I still had the ax in my hands. The sounds of battle roared around us. The dragons were tearing the armies to pieces, and fires blazed everywhere. The air was so thick with the smoke from the dead that it blotted out the sky. As the full impact of the dragons’ carnage soaked into my thoughts, a deep, obliterating numbness crept over me. The blood was running so thick and free that it overwhelmed my senses, and I wanted nothing more than to tear through the crowd, drinking deep.
Vanzir was standing near me. “Go,” he said. “Feed. You have to or the predator will take over. Go now. I’ll tell the others.”
Grateful that he understood, I pressed the ax into his hands. “Save that for me, would you?”
And then I was off, driving forward into the mob. I grabbed the first goblin who came my way and savagely drove my fangs into his neck. When I was done feeding, the blood flowing down my throat, I took another—and another, until the world was a haze of red. Goblins, Fae, it didn’t matter. As long as they were the enemy, I tore into them.
The memory of what they had done to Elqaneve, to Queen Asteria, to our father . . . the thousands of elves dying . . . it all ran together in one crimson haze. As soon as I drained one, I was on to the next, until they became mere numbers, forgotten as soon as I was done with them. Until I found myself holding one very young boy by the collar. All the others had been seasoned soldiers—goblins mostly, but the boy was Svartan, and he stared at me, terrified. He couldn’t have been into puberty yet—and he began to shake.
Suddenly coming to my wits, I stopped, fangs an inch from his neck. As I pulled back, I shook my head and dropped him. “Go home. Go home and never take part in anything like this again. The next time, you might not get a second chance.”
He pressed his lips together and then turned, scrambling away. I looked down at myself. I was streaked with blood; my shirt, my pants, my face was a smear of it. Satiated, able to focus again, I looked around at the rabble that was left.
Most of the enemy who could stand were fleeing, but the dragons chased them down. Flames lit up the sky and the ground was soaked crimson.
As I turned toward the city, I reminded myself that we had done this to save lives. If we hadn’t come in, the gates would be overcome and everyone inside would be fodder for Telazhar’s demonic zeal. We were agents of death, agents of chaos, agents of life. Feeling numb and battle weary, I turned and walked quietly back through the last throngs who were doing their best to escape. Along the way, I grabbed goblin after goblin, breaking their necks, feeling nothing as I watched them fall. They were soldiers for the dark, soldiers for the demons. Unlike the boy, they would never look for redemption, or take the chance if it were offered.
By the time I reached the others, the area was fairly clear. I looked over at Camille as Vanzir handed me the ax. She looked as blood-spattered as I did. We all were, except for Smoky’s infernal ability to keep clean. Nix that. The other dragons who were standing around in human form—Vishana, Vapor, and a couple of others—were also spotless.
“He’s dead. We have the spirit seal.” Delilah held it up, gazing at the pendant. “One more for our side.”