Light the Reign (The Forgotten: Book 3) (20 page)

Layna’s stomach was becoming nauseated
between the pain of her torn cheek, and the sight of the decaying
monster. She could feel her own warm blood oozing down her face,
and cringed at the thought of the thing’s horribly disgusting
fingernails having had contact with the wound. Again she felt a
twinge of guilt. This was still someone’s son. Someone’s
father.

He came at her again, relentless. She
sidestepped. Someone who deserved to be put out of their misery
before they did something their human self would not approve of.
She snarled at the thing, its feral behavior contagious.

Something glittered out of the corner of her
eye and drew her attention for a split second.

That was all the opening the beast needed,
and he jumped at her, knocking her over with his pure bulk. He
jammed his knife-like fingernails into her sides, forcing the wind
out of her as they hit the ground. She moaned and flailed about
towards the object that had caused her distraction. Though she
couldn’t see it, she felt around on the ground where she had seen
it, trying hard to ignore the burning sensation where the nails
were clawing into her.

Suddenly her hand closed around the shiny
object, its sides bit into her palm, but she paid it no heed,
gripping it tightly. She swung it around towards her, stabbing it
into the back of the creature whose gaping maw she was just barely
holding back from dining on her face. It jerked as the metal slid
in through its ribs, hitting the arteries of its heart, and
collapsed onto her moments later.

She pulled the metal out of the Bricrui’s
back, wriggled out from underneath it and waved the object towards
her captors and the crowd, who had gone wild with excitement. The
object was a small shard, torn from something during the fights,
and hardly a match for the sheer number of opponents surrounding
her.

The ring-leader held up his hand and the room
quieted. “Well, now, little lady. You just lost me a lot of money.
Perhaps since we’ve already apprehended your friends, we have time
for one more.” He looked back at the beady-eyed man behind him, who
was bouncing from one foot to another. “Bring out The Wrecker.”

Layna shifted the shard in her hand, avoiding
the large gash it had made. She tore off a bit of her shirt sleeve
and wrapped it around her hand, hefting its weight in preparation.
As the beady man – along with three other larger men – led out the
Bricrui termed ‘The Wrecker’, Layna’s heart sank. Even with the
four men attached to it with the leashes, it was nearly dragging
them all across the floor. Her measly weapon would be no match for
it.

Then suddenly, doors burst open from all
directions and there was a mad dash for exits.

“It’s the guard!” someone yelled.

In the commotion that followed, Layna
abandoned her shard and started climbing up the wired wall, up and
hopefully out of the reach of the hulking Bricrui before its
handlers lost control.

“Layna!” she heard Gryffon’s voice shout
above the din and she looked wildly around.

“I’m here!” she shouted back, still uncertain
where it had come from. How she wished she had her talent now, just
to have his strong presence in her head.

She scrambled farther up the side of the
ring, looking for an opening to escape to the other side. Without
warning, something grabbed at her ankle and yanked her downwards.
She gripped the wires harder, tearing open the wound in her palm,
and she cried out.

“Layna!” Gryffon’s voice sounded frantic, but
closer, and she got a good enough grip on the wires to look down.
As she had feared, the Bricrui had escaped the leashes, though all
four still dangled from his neck, and it was now firmly attached to
her foot. It pulled it towards his mouth to take a bite, and she
slammed her other foot down onto his nose. Blood poured forth, but
it maintained its grip on her. She kicked him again, with all her
might, and searched the crowd for Gryffon.

People were scattering in all directions, the
perpetrators of the crime as well as the observers, all chased by
members of the guard and the Knights. Sir Ruawn must have called
for back-up, bless his precautious heart.

The Bricrui tugged at her foot again, and she
resumed her frantic kicking, hitting him again and again in the
face. It became a swelling, pus-filled, bloodied mess, but it
didn’t seem to bother it, as it was still intent on the prospect of
the delicacy inches from its mouth.

Suddenly it became distracted from behind,
and Layna saw that Gryffon had found his way to her and was cutting
away at the beast’s back. Even his sword slicing through the layers
of the thing’s flesh didn’t seem to slow it, though it did let go
of her foot to turn and get rid of the menace behind it. As it
swung around, one of the leashes still hooked onto its collar
arched past her. She reached out and grabbed it, hastily stuffing
it into the tangled wires and wrapping loose ones around it as
tightly as she could.

The beast advanced on Gryffon, but was
stopped short by the tangled leash. It looked over its shoulder at
this new nuisance and howled its annoyance. Layna darted nimbly
around the side of it and came to stand next to Gryffon. The relief
on his face at finding her in one piece was evident, and Layna
could see the lecture she would receive when they returned to the
palace already being rehearsed in his mind. She smiled gratefully
at him and he smiled back briefly, then turned his attention to the
Bricrui, who had simply reached behind him and yanked the leash
from the wall, taking half the wire cage down with it.

Gryffon jabbed at him with his sword, which
was soon joined by another, and then another, until finally, the
beast was surrounded by the Knights and guards and was put down.
Layna felt relief, then sorrow. Fighting beasts that were your
neighbors was difficult. She wondered who this Bricrui might have
been in life. Not that they were really dead, but they might as
well be, and she had begun to think of them as such. Imagining that
you were sending them off to a better place, allowing them to
complete their journey, instead of being stuck on a plane of
existence they no longer belonged, made dealing with them easier.
Most of the time. She seemed to remember there being a very large
hulking man who had a butcher shop in town…or had.

A tear squeezed itself from her eye, and she
wiped it away, cringing as her hand brushed across her scratches.
Gryffon’s arm appeared magically around her, shielding her from
view of the rest of the men, and he swept her out of the warehouse.
Out in the night air, she breathed deeply, trying not to
hyperventilate as she let out the emotions she’d been keeping on
lock-down in order to survive the ordeal.

“Layna,” Gryffon started, and she interrupted
him.

“I know, I know, it was a fool-hardy thing to
have done, I should have listened and let someone more experienced
go in my place, or been more careful, or - ”

This time he cut her off, putting a finger
over her lips to silence her. “I love you.”

She sighed and melted into his embrace. “I
love you too,” she whispered back.

Sir Ruawn escorted them personally back to
the palace, lecturing them both about how he had told them both it
was too dangerous for them to be out, but neither of them listened
too carefully, lost in each other. To have thought that she might
have missed out on growing old with Gryffon, or seeing her baby get
married, or – she dashed all the thoughts from her mind, squeezing
Gryffon’s hand tighter. There was no room for those kind of
thoughts.

“Were you able to catch the leader?” she
asked when Sir Ruawn took a breath, derailing him from his
tirade.

He looked disgruntled at her abrupt change of
subject, but obliged her. “We believe so, though until it is all
sorted out, it’s a bit of a mess. As soon as I know the two of you
are safely back in your quarters, I will go figure it out. As you
may have gathered,” he said rather sharply, “it appears to have
been a fighting ring. Even if we didn’t get them all, we’ll know
what to look for.”

“And the Bricrui? Some of them weren’t even
past the point of saving, we need to get them on chokeroot right
away!”

“I already have a team on it, Your Majesty,”
he said, picking the formalities he’d dropped in his ranting back
up again.

When they arrived at their quarters, Layna
sank onto the bed. Gryffon sat down beside her and took her wounded
hand in his own. He gently peeled back the cloth she had hastily
thrown around it in order to maintain a grip on her shard weapon,
but even so, it was agony. Enough blood had dried that it peeled
off with the cloth, and she whimpered in pain.

“Serves you right,” Gryffon said forcefully,
though the suddenly even gentler hands betrayed his true
thoughts.

“For what?” she asked, biting back another
moan.

“For scaring me like that.” He finally got
the cloth totally removed and he examined the cut. Then he let both
their hands fall to his lap for a long moment, staring at the
floor. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’d never be able to leave you,” she
answered, nuzzling his neck affectionately. “Death can’t have me
until we’re both old and decrepit and we’ll go together, quietly in
the night.”

“Sounds good,” he agreed, kissing her
deeply.

He tended to her wounds – the old-fashioned
way since they had insisted that even the healers should begin
taking chokeroot, unwilling to sacrifice anyone to the disease –
and wrapped them each with poultices. It reminded her of their days
with Mila, helping to fix potions and not yet aware of the others’
feelings. A lifetime ago.

A knock sounded at their door and a maid
entered, carrying a tray.

“Is it morning already?” Layna asked, yawning
hugely.

The maid looked startled, her eyes wide and
centered on Layna, and she abruptly dropped the tray she was
carrying. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “I’m so sorry, I-”

Gryffon chuckled. “No need to apologize,
Gertrude, I’m afraid the Queen does look rather worse for wear at
the moment.”

Layna gave him an indignant face, but
realized he was probably right. She got up from the bed and went to
look at herself in the mirror.

“Oh my,” she said when she saw the sad state
of her appearance. The make-up was half gone; and combined with the
bruises, scratches, and poultice plastered on her cheek, she was
quite ghastly-looking. She hurriedly wiped herself as clean as
possible while Gryffon helped the maid clean up the mess, ignoring
her protests. When she was somewhat decent, she turned back to
them.

“I must apologize for frightening you like
that, Gertrude, we had quite a night.”

The maid didn’t comment, but gave them both
wide stares and excused herself to go and prepare another tray. A
knock sounded soon after, and they called for her to come back in
while they tidied themselves up.

It wasn’t the same maid, however, but rather
one of the aides, telling them they had a message from the Ieldran
that they urgently needed to have a meeting in one hour. Gryffon
looked at Layna and gave her one of his wolfish grins.

“I guess we won’t be getting any sleep in
before another day starts,” he joked.

She answered him with a yawn. “I at least
need to take a bath,” she complained, “I feel disgusting.”

“Better hurry,” was her husband’s only
answer.

She raced to the bathing room and cleaned
herself the best she could, scrubbing away the memory of the
pus-filled flesh touching hers. She shivered in the hot water.
Hopefully, the Ieldran were calling a meeting for good news, the
prospect of becoming one of the Bricrui was getting less and less
appealing by the day.

She had herself in a presentable state by the
time the meeting was scheduled, aside from the gash in her cheek,
and they made their way down to the Council hall. They passed the
maid who had done her make-up the night before, who gasped at the
wound. Layna winked at her and gave her a thumbs-up, indicating
that the night had been a success. The maid looked ecstatic at
having been let in on the secret, and she scampered off, no doubt
eager to spread the news. Layna didn’t mind. Everyone could use
some good news. Even if it was only that they had caught a fighting
ring. Those unfortunate enough to have progressed to that state of
the Bricrui did not deserve even more cruelty.

The rest of the Council and Lady Aria were
already present, looking much more rested than Layna felt. Gryffon
– and she was sure herself – looked completely drained, the dark
puffy circles under his eyes having become a permanent addition
lately. She greeted them all with a thin smile and took her seat,
stifling yet another yawn.

When the mirror shimmered and cleared, she
readied another smile for the people on the other end, but it
faltered as she saw that the mirror was filled with grim looks.

Without preamble, Lady Ravena spoke up. “Lord
Heinrich has been found dead,” she stated.

“What?” Layna asked in a very unlady-like
manner. She was too tired to catch herself in time. She cleared her
throat and tried again. “Excuse me? How did it happen?”

“It appears to have been foul play,” Ravena
answered, but she seemed distracted, as though this was not the
bulk of her news. Sure enough, she continued, “but even worse, we
have discovered that one of his manors holds a swarm of the
Bricrui, already on Treymayne soil. Preliminary reports indicate
that he may have tried to contain an outbreak himself in a
misguided attempt to be a hero, but things went utterly awry. We’re
waiting for reports on whether or not it has spread outside the
manor.”

Layna and Gryffon were both silent. The rest
of the Council looked at one another expectantly, but no one knew
what to say. This was not good.