Powers of the Six (43 page)

Shouts and orders of battle stopped; only the wheezing moan of the Dor’Jan filled the night air. Nolan stood in the center of the open field, a beacon surrounded by a swarm of writhing Dor’Jan. A platoon of Rol’dan stared, mouths gaped, as they waited at the open gates of Faylinn. Torches fell from their hands.

Nolan’s pulsed raced, his eyes darting from the monsters to the stunned Rol’dan soldiers. He snorted, despite his terror. Bet they’ve never seen
that
before.

Kael’s wide eyes met his. He tensed and straightened before turning to his soldiers. “What are you waiting for?” he said. “Fire!”

Nolan brought forth Speed as a dozen arrows zipped toward him. Some came from the wall and others near the gate. Nolan caught a few, knocked the rest aside, and let loose the same number of spikes in return.

“Nolan!” Kael said.

He flared Empathy and felt Kael’s torn emotions.
Confusion. Concern for … me?
His stomach clenched.
Crows!
If he cares so much … why in Darkness is he trying to kill me?

Dodging, Nolan caught an arrow and sent it back with Strength behind the throw. Strengthening his light, he broke through the Dor’Jan. As they parted, cowering, he ran toward the open gate, not certain what he’d do when he got there.

Several dozen Rol’dan blocked his path, weapons raised as fear flooded from them. Glowing eyes of gold, red, and blue darted to the mass of animated death and back to Nolan again.

Nolan wiped a sleeve across his face and tightened his grip on his sword. So many. He could fight a few, but he couldn’t take them all. He glanced toward the trees.
What is taking the others so long?

Once again, the sensation of filth crept down his spine. The Dor’Jan closed in, trapping Nolan between them and the Rol’dan army. At least the creatures kept the Rol’dan from attacking.

Kael stepped forward and torchlight flickered around him, casting shadows on his hardened face. Anguish pulsed from his emotions as he drew his sword—Alec’s sword. “Crows, Nolan. I can’t let you. I just can’t.”

Just as Speed flared to life in Kael’s eyes, the air around them changed. The sneer on Kael’s face fell and his sword arm dropped to his side. He stared out, expressionless, toward the waiting dead horde. Nolan sucked in a breath. “No, Kael!
NO!
”

Nolan gasped as all five of his Shays wrenched against his chest, freezing his body in place. He increased his light, gasping as the sensation fell away. The soldiers weren’t as lucky.

The Rol’dan froze, some falling to their knees. A few staggered back into the sheltered walls of Faylinn. Several others dropped their torches and pressed their palms to the side of their heads. Their faces went blank … and then they stepped into the waiting Dor’Jan.

Nolan poured everything into the illumination around him. He grabbed Kael’s arm, yanking him into the circle of his protective Shay.

Kael wheezed, blinking, his senses returning to him.

“Stay with me,” Nolan said.

A scream sounded as a swarm of Dor’Jan enveloped a Rol’dan soldier. One of the creatures straddled the man’s torso, its fingers pressed into the soldier’s skull. The man convulsed on the ground, and his body withered as if emptied from the inside out.

The Dor’Jan shrieked, frustration and desperation oozing from its putrid emotions. Nolan yanked back his Empathy, his stomach rolling from the creature’s wretched desolation. The Dor’Jan screeched, raising the hair on Nolan’s head. It jumped on another soldier, emptying him as well.

Kael’s head jerked from one gruesome sight to another before locking on Nolan. “W-what happened to you?”

Nolan scanned the creatures and stopped on one face, his heart lurching. Dried blood still lingered on its lips. Its skin wasn’t sunken or gray; it was white, as if it had just tried on death. Nolan choked back the shock, recognition washing over him. Garrick. He reached for him, but Kael yanked Nolan’s arm away.

“Don’t,” Kael said. “The king took him last night.”

Brightness burst through the tree line, and the howls of the Dor’Jan escalated into frantic screams. Nolan pulled Kael through the chaos toward the shelter of the walls. The Dor’Jan, now desperate, circled Nolan, hunger gleaming in their black eyes. They dropped away as soon as they got close enough to the torches flooding from inside the gates.

More screams drew their attention. The Guardians, massive swords raised and golden armor gleaming, surrounded Vikas and the others, protecting them from a wave of Dor’Jan. They came straight across the field toward the open gates of Faylinn.

Kael spotted them, and the blood drained from his face.

As they neared the castle gates, Kael pulled back. The Guardians slashed with their glowing swords, and the Dor’Jan fell away, engulfed in flames. They plowed through the Dor’Jan like farmers sowing wheat. As they finally raced through the gate into the paved courtyard, the Guardians parted, and the small, determined band of resistance charged.

Kael flinched, a turmoil of emotions churning within him. A few of Nolan’s friends charged in Kael’s direction. Nolan shook his head and waved them on. However, Kael had already raised his sword.

“Kael, we can stop this,” Nolan said. “Call off the Rol’dan. We can defeat the king together.”

Kael’s eyes jerked toward him. “No one can defeat him, Nolan.” His voice quaked, finality on his tongue.

“Together,” Nolan said. “We can do it together.”

Kael’s mind shifted to a glimmer of hope. But the fire building in Kael extinguished with a glance. Any chance of Kael joining them came to a violent end.

Alec Deverell stood before them, his fist clenched on the hilt of a sword, and his eyes gleaming yellow with Speed.

Chapter Thirty-Five

NOLAN’S STOMACH DROPPED.
No, Alec. Not now.
He stepped between them, hands outstretched, one palm open to each of their chests.

“Get out of my way, Nolan,” Alec said.

Astonishment washed over Kael. “But you’re dead.”

“Oh yes,” Alec said. “I
was
quite dead … until Taryn healed me to life.”

“Taryn?” Kael’s face paled, nearly draining to the ashen gray of a Dor’Jan. “No. That can’t be.”

“You killed me,” Alec continued. “And she gave me her life. You killed her!”

“No.” Kael’s jaw twitched and his face reddened. “I didn’t kill her; the stupid girl made that decision on her own.”

“Get out of my way, Nolan,” Alec said.

“If you had fought like a man,” Kael said, “she’d still be alive.”

“Nolan!” a voice cried.

Nolan swiveled, looking for the frantic voice.

Alec dodged around Nolan, swinging his sword.

“Alec! No!” Nolan yelled, but it was too late. Kael blocked him with a resounding clang, and the battle between them erupted.

“Nolan!” the voice called again.

Nolan tore his gaze from Alec and Kael in time to see Vikas fighting two Rol’dan. Another group of soldiers surrounded the Guardians, swords swinging.

Nolan hesitated then looked at Alec and Kael; the two dodged and parried and sliced their way toward an empty practice field. His heart twisted, but there was nothing he could do. Nolan prayed, hoping they would both come out of this alive.

He turned, pulled several spikes, and threw.

The two Rol’dan fighting Vikas fell.

Vikas immediately worked his way back to the Guardians.

Nolan grabbed two more spikes on his leg, then another pair, and another, and soon what was left of the attacking Rol’dan fled.

Greer inhaled, healing a deep gash on his arm that dripped with shimmering, silver blood. He held his glowing sword to his face, his eyes blazing with white light. And with a small bow, he gave Nolan a grateful salute.

The sound of fighting faded into an unnatural hush. All eyes rested on the doors to the castle. A Guardian, larger than Nolan had ever seen, emerged.

The Guardian wound through the awe-struck courtyard. Black hair hung, smooth and silky, down to his wide shoulders. His sharp features scowled with hate. He wore full plate armor the color of tarnished copper. In his fist he gripped a gigantic sword; it swung slowly at his side as the crowd gave way to him. Though he radiated light, it was dirty and stained. Even his eyes glowed gray, not the typical pure brightness of the other Guardians. His stare made all stop and hold their breath. He walked purposefully through the crowd, and every Rol’dan—as well as Nolan’s friends—stopped and bowed. Nolan felt it, too: the forced awe. He shoved it aside. He was not dealing with just another Guardian.

Greer, Malik, and Sanawen didn’t move. They stood taller: the posture of challenge.

“I should have known,” the dark Guardian said. “Greer. I left you for dead.”

“Did you, Alcandor?” Greer said.

Alcandor? The king is a Guardian? No. It can’t be.
Nolan searched the crowd. Stupid, giddy admiration was planted on their faces.

Everything made sense—all of Alcandor’s powers, how he never aged. Now Nolan knew what he was truly up against: a Guardian who enjoyed killing humans. Kael was right.
How in Brim’s light can we defeat him?

A crooked smile hinted at the corner of Alcandor’s lips. “I won’t make the same mistake this time; I am more powerful than before.”

“You stole those powers,” Greer said.

“Brim took my powers!” Muscles tensed on Alcandor’s neck. “He gave me no choice. I simply took back what was rightfully mine. Lay your head down, Greer. It will come off one way or the other.”

He motioned toward a group of Rol’dan and then pointed to Malik and Sanawen. “Bind them. Do what you wish with them but don’t kill them. I will do it myself.”

The Rol’dan cheered in frenzied madness, and a mass of Nass shot from them into the dark sky. They swarmed forward, and within a few short seconds, the two Guardians were overcome.

“And this one” —Alcandor motioned toward Greer— “is mine.”

Alcandor swept his sword in a menacing arch and lunged toward Greer. In a flash of white light, Greer’s blade met Alcandor’s. They paused, sizing one another up, and then the battle erupted.

Nolan froze at the sight. He’d never seen Greer so fearsome. Yet, however hard Greer fought, he couldn’t match Alcandor’s Speed and power. Greer would lose; it was only a matter of time. Malik and Sanawen were already overcome.

A twang of bowstrings sounded, and Nolan dodged the arrows. He reached for the spikes at his forearm, but the bracer was empty. His belt was empty as well. He found some on his thigh holster, dodged several more arrows, and let the spikes fly,
thudding
perfectly into the two men firing into the courtyard from the wall above.

Nolan blocked an incoming sword blow, cutting the man before moving on. The Rol’dan kept coming, but Nolan disposed of them, dodging and cutting his way through Alcandor’s army.

The Rol’dan may have been falling, but Alcandor was not. The battle between Greer and the king was not going well. Greer backed from the courtyard into the Dor’Jan-covered field, disappearing from Nolan’s view.

With another sweep, Nolan disarmed a Rol’dan and made an attempt toward the gate. Rol’dan after Rol’dan pressed on him, blocking him, each taking the previous one’s place.

Nolan’s jaw tensed. His lungs ached. His muscles quivered with exhaustion. Another man rushed forward—Nolan swore he’d already fought him. The man’s eyes blazed with Speed. He’d tear the soldiers down, and the Healers would bring them back. This battle would
never
end.

“Enough!” Nolan’s Empathy swelled.

The man’s sword arm hesitated.

Nolan stared at him, his muscles taught, his sword arm raised, yet the man did nothing.
Why did he stop?
Nolan inhaled sharply. Just like Emery in the prison tower:
He stopped because
I told him to
. Nolan thrust Empathy into the soldier’s mind. “Go!”

The man blinked twice, turned, and fled.

Nolan pushed through the crowd, influencing their minds. The soldiers parted, clearing his way. As another group advanced, Nolan made them freeze in place.

A group of Rol’dan had tied Sanawen and Malik on the ground, impaling the Guardians while laughing sadistically. Nolan’s blood heated. He clenched his fist, threw up his hand, and stabbed Empathy into their minds. “Stop it!”

Confusion fell on their faces. With another quick mental jab, the Rol’dan obediently untied the Guardians.

Nolan passed them, sprinting out the gates and across the field. Pushing his Shays, his light increased. His head pounded, his body ached, and he still hadn’t faced Alcandor. Trying his best to ignore the reaching Dor’Jan, he scanned the dark field and easily found the glowing Guardians.

They still battled, but Alcandor had the upper hand. The ringing Guardian steel filled the air, cutting through the night. Finally, Alcandor struck with such a resounding blow that Greer staggered and dropped his sword. Alcandor rammed his blade deep into Greer’s side.