City of the Sleeping Gods Page 4

  As the wraith squad passed, her eyes caught a young man a couple of years older than her. Andreas Hylt. He was at the top of his academy class. Their fiercest fighter. She’d seen him train before and it was always exhilarating to watch him move. So much so, her heart picked up a beat as he rode on past. His eyes flitted briefly toward her, even though she knew he couldn’t see her as she was cloaked in shadow and magic. Still she felt the power of his gaze. It seemed to pierce right through her.

  Sophia wondered what it would be like to fight with them in battle. What it would mean to have a brotherhood watching her back at all times. To have comrades. Friends even. Envy pricked at her and she climbed on Haris’s back to follow the cavalry at a safe distance. As always, they moved as silent as ghosts, hidden within the shadows of the great oak trees.

  Eventually, the soldiers stopped at Black Tears Lake to water their horses. Sophia urged Haris to stop, and she slid off his back and crouched behind two, thick trees to watch the men as they dismounted and joked about.

  One of the men stood on the shore of the lake and peered into the dark water. “I heard there were sirens in the water.” He swiveled around and put his hands to his chest. “Big-breasted wenches with voices like angels. I’d love to see one.”

  “Looking for a new girlfriend, Dayton?” One of the men taunted. “Lilianna already bored of your lazy ass?”

  Another of the men, bigger and meaner looking, pushed Dayton. It looked like he was trying to push the man into the water, but he failed, as Dayton danced away, surprisingly light on his feet. “That’s the only woman you’d ever get. Some waterlogged creature with talons for fingers and a snake for a tongue.” He barked with laughter.

  The two started to wrestle, as the other men gathered around and laughed, placing bets on who would win the sparring match. Andreas watched his men for a bit, but his gaze kept scanning the forest, seeming to rest exactly where Sophia and Haris were hiding. He couldn’t see her. It was impossible. She was a mere shadow.

  However much she longed to stay and watch the sparring match, eager to learn a few new moves, Sophia decided to quit while she was still safe. These were not men to be trifled with. They were elite guards; the best of the best. As with anyone from Nighthelm, they would kill her on sight if they discovered her.

  Before she and Haris could leave though, a pack of canids, growling and snapping their large jaws, burst out of the trees–some on four legs, some on two–and attacked the wraith shifters’ camp. In an instant, the men shifted—all but Andreas—and engaged the monsters in a fight.

  The battle was brutal. Sophia had never seen the men fight in their wraith forms before. They streaked across the ground like black fire, their eyes and mouths blazing red, cloven feet never touching the dirt. One wraith, she thought may have been Dayton, hovered above a canid and swiped his elongated talons across the massive wolf head, cutting to the bone. Blood spewed from the wound, and the monster dropped to the ground, dead.

  Another wraith soldier wasn’t as lucky, as one large canid, standing erect on its muscular, back legs, clutched him in massive paws, and literally ripped him in half, tossing his ruined body into the lake like sewage.

  Andreas stood in the middle of it all, a sword in each hand, cutting down canids as they charged at him. Saliva dripped from wide, powerful muzzles as the monsters tried to bite Andreas in the arms, the legs, anywhere they could. But he was too quick. Too agile. He moved through the horde, hacking and slicing through every fur-covered body, as swift and fluid on two legs as his wraith brothers were in the air.

  A wraith soldier dove at one of the canids. His talons struck the monster in the shoulder, rendering a piece of flesh. The canid spun around, whipping one of its legs in the air. It caught the soldier in the side, and he dropped to the ground. Alive, but injured. Letting out a rumbling growl, it charged at the fallen wraith.

  Andreas jumped in front of the monster, his sword raised, and hacked at its legs. The blade sliced through a tendon and the animal stumbled, but it didn’t fall. It kept coming. Jaws open, blade like teeth bared, it advanced on Andreas as he stood over his fallen brother.

  Sophia jumped to her feet. She refused to let anyone else die, even if it meant compromising her position. She unsheathed her sword and then sprung out of the woods and into the fray.

  Chapter Six

  Andreas

  Andreas turned as the monster’s immense teeth were about to slam around his throat. This was it. This was how he was going to die. Not in battle against a formidable foe, with swords clashing. No. By some filthy stinking creature when his back had been turned. He was disgusted with himself. He’d never let an enemy get the better of him before. Refusing to give in to death’s call, Andreas swung his sword one last time with a vigorous battle cry.

  From the corner of his eye, a burst of light sailed from the forest and right through the beast, dissolving the monster to ash. His sword cut through air. Amidst the melee, no one but Andreas seemed to notice the blast of magic. Andreas turned toward the forest just as a flash of long, blond hair and pale skin that glowed the same color as the magic she dispensed went by. She lowered her arm and disappeared into the shadows.

  He didn’t catch her face, and wouldn’t be able to recognize her if he ever saw her again. Clearly, this person was deeply magical. Deeply dangerous. Andreas snapped to attention as his soldier instincts kicked in. He made a move to race after the girl to question and detain her. Someone so magical went beyond his understanding. He would have to capture her and bring her to the sorcerers who lived in Nighthelm castle. Maybe he could give her to Ezekiel Wickham. He seemed like a man who needed a hobby. He could study this magical person, whoever she turned out to be.

  From the corner of his vision, a brother in arms was locked in battle, losing to one of the great, monstrous beasts. His brothers came first. He would never leave them to their fate if he could do something about it.

  Swords raised, Andreas dashed toward the monster that had his wraith brother pinned to the ground. He leapt into the air and then landed on the canid’s broad, muscular back. The creature reared up as Andreas sunk his blades into the sides of the massive beast, pushing them in until the hilts met flesh. It bucked and convulsed, but he hung on, refusing to let go of his weapons, twisting them farther into flesh, hoping to meet bone. Finally, after one final, wet, blood-curdling roar, the canid collapsed onto its side. Andreas jumped off before he could be crushed by the dead weight.

  He yanked his swords out of the carcass, and pivoted to the side, ready for another attack. Andreas surveyed the scene. All the beasts had been slayed, and his brothers had shifted back to human and were inspecting their wounds. He counted the remaining faces—twelve had survived, two had fallen. Ford and Landon. Both had been fierce fighters and would be greatly missed on the battle field and in the city. Their women would mourn, as was their custom. There were only about a thousand wraith shifter soldiers in Nighthelm as his people did not breed easily. Due to their unstable physical form, not many wraith babies could be carried to term. His own mother had miscarried twice after giving birth to him, dying during the last time. They couldn’t afford to lose any more men because of that.

  Andreas knew he should be grateful to still be alive. He’d been a breath away from death. But instead, he was on edge. His body thrummed with pent-up energy. He scanned the bordering forest again, but assumed the girl was long gone. In the battle’s aftermath, a tense hush settled over the woods. As if it waited for something he couldn’t explain.

  Deep in his chest, a familiar sensation burned without warning, and he winced. He felt like he was being watched by something powerful, something deadly, and something that had no name. Was the powerful, magical girl still nearby, even if he couldn’t see her?

  Andreas turned to march toward the surrounding trees and search for the source of his unease, when behind him, Captain Ryder called him over. A wary eye still on the forest, he jogged over to where his captain stood.

&nb
sp; “What the hell happened, Hylt?” Captain Ryder barked. “Sutton tells me you should’ve both been done for. That the canid was on top of you, ready to rip out your throat.”

  “It was, sir. I really shouldn’t be standing here.” Andreas’s gaze flitted to the surrounding forest again, wondering if he could catch another glimpse of his savior.

  “Tell me how that’s possible.” The captain frowned, the lines on his forehead deepened into rivets.

  “It was magic,” Andreas said.

  Captain Ryder’s brow furrowed even deeper.

  Andreas gestured to the trees. “I saw a girl come out of the woods and burn that beast to ash with her magic.”

  “Impossible. A girl with powerful magic?” Captain Ryder’s lips lifted into a sneer. He didn’t believe women could fight, nor that any could possess magical abilities. It would be rare most definitely, as there were no female sorcerers in Nighthelm. “Besides, nothing else in these woods protect Nighthelm soldiers. We are the most powerful beings in this place.”

  “The beast had me, sir. I swung my sword as a last resort, and then it was vaporized by a beam of magic.”

  Captain Ryder narrowed his eyes, and Andreas knew he didn’t believe a word. Andreas had a difficult time believing it as well. He wouldn’t have if he hadn’t seen her with his own eyes. He was not a man of fantasy; he knew what was real and what wasn’t.

  “You must’ve been mistaken. You were about to die. There is no shame in that,” Captain Ryder said.

  Andreas thought about pressing the issue, but decided his efforts were best laid elsewhere. He wouldn’t convince his captain of something that was near impossible. So, he just nodded. “I’m sure you’re right, Captain.”

  The captain slapped Andreas on the back. “You saved your brother. Have pride in that.”

  Andreas nodded again.

  “Now, I know we want to mourn our fallen brothers, but that will have to wait.” Captain Ryder looked around at the men as they gathered. “Our mission is more important.”

  Most of his brethren nodded in agreement.

  “We have long awaited news on the lost heirs. It’s too important to be impatient,” Captain Ryder said. “This is why we train, and why we fight. For the monarch’s return.”

  A wave of “aye” went through the ranks.

  “The Duchess can’t be trusted. She is only a steward of the throne but acts like she was born to sit upon it.” Captain Ryder shook his head. “That will not happen while I am still alive.”

  The men all stamped their feet in agreement. The horses followed suit, until there was a symphony of power spiraling into the sky like a tornado. Andreas was sure that it echoed throughout the woods. He imagined the sound struck fear into all that heard. Would it frighten the girl with the magic? He thought not.

  Andreas looked at the moon, taking notice of its position in the night sky, as all wraith shifters were taught in the academy. His eyes narrowed and he frowned. “The messenger from Ripthorn should’ve been here by now. It’s past quarter moon.”

  Captain Ryder looked up, as did others. Then his gaze met Andreas’s, and Andreas saw the despair in the captain’s eyes. The man was a loyalist through and through, as were all wraith shifters. They were born to be warriors for the crown.

  “Collect our dead and ready the horses. We’ll ride back to Nighthelm.”

  “What about the messenger, Captain?” Dayton asked. “Shouldn’t we wait?”

  “As Andreas pointed out, he’s late. Therefore, he’s likely dead. Just as the last.” Captain Ryder marched to his horse and then tightened the saddle straps.

  Some of the men sighed in frustration, others slapped their hands down on their legs in anger, Andreas didn’t know what to do or say. It wasn’t the first time they’d come out to the woods to wait for a message from the mountain. They’d been waiting for over ten years. For any word about the heirs of Nighthelm. Not much was known about what exactly happened in the mountain all those years ago. All Andreas and his brothers had was hope. Hope that one day the rest of the royal family would return and the kingdom of Nighthelm would be restored to its former glory.

  Andreas thought the royals were long dead, having been killed in the mountain, but nobility and honor were engrained in his people. The royals did the wraiths a great service by allowing them to have a home in Nighthelm when they belonged nowhere else.

  Their part of the city was called the Shade, and Andreas knew some in Nighthelm used the term in a derogatory manner. People feared what they didn’t understand. Their homes weren’t the most spacious or luxurious. Most families lived in small, stone cottages. Those lucky enough to have children, were forced to sleep two or three to a room. Wraith shifters didn’t crave riches and the comforts that money bought. They were a people of resilience and tenacity, honor and faith. These were their four tenets that the wraiths lived by, and Andreas had them tattooed on his chest, as did his brothers, to honor those words.

  Andreas understood his brothers in arms’ dedication to the monarchs. He’d been raised with that dedication as the driving force of everything he did and accomplished. He, however, thought there were more dangerous creatures to worry about than the duchess. She was just some stuffy, old woman clinging desperately to power she didn’t deserve or earn.

  He’d seen her once during a regiment event the wraith soldiers attended with the elite castle guard. Even from the dais on which she sat regally, inspecting the troops, Andreas saw cold beauty in her silver gown and spiked tiara. She definitely had a noble way about her, but he sensed no real power. She may have possessed magic, but it was nothing more than simple casting and spells for health. He definitely didn’t see the danger in her that Captain Ryder and others had.

  The real danger existed in the woods. Ever vigilant, ever silent. Waiting for an opportunity to strike.

  Andreas looked warily again at the forest, hand tightening around his sword hilt, as he returned to his stallion to prepare him for the ride back to Nighthelm. There were many dangers in the woods. Grimms, fairies, minotaurs, even the sirens that Dayton had joked about. He just hoped that this rogue magic caster wasn’t going to be another threat to the city. There was already enough to fear, already enough enemies.

  Chapter Seven

  Sophia

  As darkness settled around the isolated cabin, Sophia sat at the small wooden table that took up much of the tiny kitchen, finishing her bowl of pine nut porridge and staring at the empty seat across from her. Grindel was never late. She’d set out a bowl for him as well, as she did every evening, but it had cooled during the wait. She wondered where he could be and hoped nothing bad had happened to him.

  Although, she couldn’t imagine what that would be. He taught at the academy, nothing more dangerous than Nighthelm history, and then walked home. He knew the woods better than anyone, he’d taught her how to avoid pesky water sprites and mean-spirited fairies, how to look for signs of minotaurs and centaurs nearby as they were best to avoid. He was quick on his feet and could handle himself with any weapon, including his hands. He had powerful magic and knew how to use it. So, she couldn’t think of what could’ve happened to him along the walk home through the forest.

  While she lazily twirled her spoon, her thoughts strayed toward Andreas again and the battle she’d just witnessed. She couldn’t get him out of her head. He was the first person other than Grindel and Headmistress Mittle to ever see her. The first person she allowed to see her. Although she was pretty sure he hadn’t actually seen her face, just a flash of her form as she darted out of the woods, her magic flying. She wondered if it had been a mistake.

  Ever since she’d first snuck into the city years ago, despite Grindel’s warning of never going into Nighthelm, Sophia had watched Andreas and his brothers-in-arms train. Fascinated with the wraith shifters and their fierce fighting style, she watched him grow up, from gangly boy to powerful warrior. He was only a few years older than her. It was like she knew him–a childhood friend, even–an
d she couldn’t let him die in the woods, savaged by some mindless beast. Just like the little girl she had saved.

  The orders to not engage seemed ridiculous to her. What good were all her exceptional skills, all her years of training, if she couldn’t use them to save people?

  Frustrated with her loneliness and isolation, Sophia pushed away her empty bowl and sighed. It was never going to get better. She had to learn to accept that. Watching other people live a full, meaningful life was as close as she was going to get to having one of her own.

  The door to the cabin opened, and Grindel shuffled in, looking older than he had in the morning. She shot to her feet, relief bringing a small smile to her face. But the shake of his head told her that his late arrival wasn’t a good thing. Her smile faded.

  “Get your cloak, and come with me.”

  She did as was instructed and followed him out into the cold night. She shivered once, then drew her cloak tighter around her body, and put up her hood. She wondered if he knew about her encounter with Andreas and the wraith shifters, and if she was about to be punished for her transgression. She wanted to ask but considered the answer might not be what she wanted to hear. Was he ushering her to her doom? It sure felt like it.

  Through the darkness of the woods, along one of their well-worn paths, she walked beside Grindel toward Nighthelm. Their destination surprised her, but again, she didn’t want to ask. Sometimes not knowing was best. He led her toward the far end of the city wall, closest to the mountain, to what looked like a door crudely carved into the rock. To most, it would’ve appeared to be no more than a few cracks in the stone.

  He stepped inside and beckoned her to follow. Torches were set into the jagged tunnel walls, so she could see where she was stepping, although she didn’t need the light. She was as sure-footed in the dark as she was in the light. Her heightened senses served her well in any environment.