Resurrection (Book Three of the Soul Forge series)

It took two days to clear the city. When the last civilian left the walls, the evacuation route was sealed. The main gates at the front and rear were shut and barricaded with a portcullis.

King Hrothgar refused to leave, and the queen chose to stay with him. They remained in the war room, issuing orders from behind closed doors. Reiner moved back and forth between the monarchs and the soldiers, relaying their commands so that Elda and the others could tweak them to better suit the situation.

The fear among the soldiers was palpable. It thrummed with its own heartbeat, threading its way through every inch of the deserted city. Elda tried to shut out the whispers and glances from the king's men.

She knew they were in deep trouble. Sypher and Vel were powerful, astoundingly so. In the wrong hands, that magic could level the whole of Eden. With his body a lifeless vessel housing the energy he once controlled, he’d be limitless. The undead were impervious to pain, incapable of emotion and driven by the smell of living flesh.

She suppressed a shiver, watching her breath mist in the winter chill. The sound of many boots crunching on frozen grass filled the air around her as she marched with the latest patrol around the border. Julian walked to her left, and Irileth had taken up permanent situ behind her in her earthly form, almost like a second shadow.

Aetheria had done the same with Gira, who stayed with another patrol at the far end of the city, accompanied by Brady. The soldiers kept their eyes on the forests while Ember and Cain circled the skies above.

They took care to stay within Eden’s many defensive wards, staying away from the shimmering barrier that had formed around the outermost edges of the city. Elda watched them wheel around one another, Cain brushing his mother’s side every so often to comfort her.

For a moment, the jagged wound in Elda’s soul yawned wide open, stealing the breath from her lungs. Julian saw her falter and tucked his arm through hers.

“One foot in front of the other, pipsqueak,” he murmured softly. “I’ve got you.”

A roar from above had Elda turning on her heel, the soldiers around her drawing their weapons in unison. A flash of alarm shot down the bond she shared with Cain, chased by confusion.

His crimson head turned towards the horizon, where a mass of winged shapes was descending from the clouds. Shouts of fear echoed through the patrol, the whole group halting to stare.

Aita has fallen, Cain said softly. Our conduit has been compromised. My kin have come to seek refuge.

"Spirits," Elda gasped, each breath like a knife in her chest. She turned to the soldiers and raised her voice. "The dragons come in peace!”

"I will tell the rest of our forces," Irileth promised, stepping backwards into the portal of shimmering mist and frost that appeared behind her.

By the time the dragons reached the border, the wards had been deactivated to allow them passage. Scores of winged creatures of all colours and sizes swooped down to perch on the walls and building of Eden. Every colour but white.

Ember and Cain landed in front of her and held their noses low to the ground, thrumming moans issuing from between the black dragon's clenched teeth. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

My rider, my home and my mate, she sobbed. My Jovai is gone.

Elda reached out carefully and laid a hand on Ember's snout, half-expecting to lose it. The black dragon had always been somewhat aloof with her, but when Elda's palm touched her nose, she leaned into it and butted her forehead against the elf's chest.

Please protect my son, she begged. He is all I have left now.

"I will," Elda promised, blinking away tears of her own. She couldn't let them fall - not until it was safe to crumble. So she straightened her back and stroked the ebony scales on the dragon's forehead. "I will protect your son as my husband protected you. You won't lose him while my heart still beats."

Thank you.

"But Cain isn't all you have, Mother of Dragons." The soft reminder made Ember lift her head and look up to her flock. Every single dragon, hundreds of them, bowed to her in deference and splayed their wings.

When she lifted her head, tears still cascading from her eyes, Elda saw herself. A broken soul fighting for the precious things she had left. Ember raised her wings, drew in a breath, and let out a spurt of blue fire, shoving back her grief because there were others that needed her.

My kin and I will mourn today. Tomorrow, those of us willing to fight will stay to face what comes, Ember promised, and then she and Cain took to the skies, the rest of their flock moving as one towards the clouds.

"We're fucked," Julian muttered when they were out of earshot. "If Malakai has two monoliths, both of the Corrupted, an army of the undead and the Soul Forge on his side, we're doomed."

"He doesn't have the Soul Forge," Elda snapped.

"I know," the vampire sighed. "I'm sorry, I know. I just don't see how we can win this, El."

"I don't either," she admitted, "but we have to try. We're all that stands between Malakai and every innocent life on the continent."

The words sounded sure, but in the back of her mind she heard Hephaestus the moment before he betrayed her. You are not enough.

"You are enough," Irileth said softly, stepping out of the ice beside her. "Hephaestus doesn't know who you are, or what you're capable of. You are my Keeper, little friend."

"I failed before." Elda’s chin dipped, shoulders hunching. "I cost Sypher and Vel everything."

"You didn't get him scratched," Julian frowned.

"But I trusted Hephaestus." Her hands fisted. "Irileth, I think you chose the wrong person." Saying it aloud made her eyes sting. "You could have chosen anyone else. Knights, kings, lords, scholars. Anyone. My father was right next to me and you overlooked him."

"Elda." Irileth stooped and cupped the elf's cheeks in her frozen hands, moisture brimming in her brilliant white eyes. "I chose you because you are hope. You are strength. I chose you for your sharp mind, your perseverance, your innocence. You have overcome so much so quickly. You have shown resilience others could only dream of, and you opened your heart to a creature so broken that his own magic was beginning to rebel against him. You love this world. You love the people in it. You would die for them without a second thought. You are my Keeper, and I will never doubt my choice.”

Elda stared, wide-eyed, at the frozen Spirit. Tears welled up, tears she couldn’t hold back. Irileth folded her into a tight embrace, stroking her blonde hair gently. Julian’s hand touched her shoulder, until Irileth dragged him into the hug.

“We all chose to trust Hephaestus,” the vampire reminded her softly. “Even Sypher and Vel.”

They stayed like that for a while, taking comfort in the presence of each other until Elda’s tears finally began to slow.

Irileth released them both and tapped her chin, a frown creasing her frozen brow. “At risk of further darkening the mood, I can’t help but point out how much troubke we could be in. With Aita dead and a second monolith under Malakai’s control, he may finally have enough power to leave Shade.”

“He stayed because he was trapped?” Elda asked, swiping a hand across her eyes. Julian kept his arm slung across her shoulders. “I thought he just didn’t like getting his hands dirty.”

“When he chose to take power from the monolith, he bound himself to it. It won’t let him stray too far because he stole the power he possesses, and the soul fragment in the monolith wants it back. Everything carries a cost.”

“So the only reason Valerus has been safe for so long is because he was trapped?”

“Yes.” Irileth sighed and tucked her glowing hair behind her ears. “I chose to wake when I did because Malakai finally cracked the ancient language controlling the power inside the monoliths. I had no idea Hephaestus was caged in them, but I knew if he wasn’t stopped, Valerus would burn.”

“And that language is how he managed to control Vel for a while, right?” Julian asked.

“And how he managed to enhance Cynthia’smagic even after her link to Lazarus was destroyed. If he marked Arden and Abraxos with similar runes, we could be looking at the end of the continent,” the Spirit said gravely.

“Why stop there?” Elda murmured, looking between them. “Why not go beyond the continent?”

Julian’s head cocked. “You think he has enough power to cross the Irathi sea?”

“Why not? If he can level a continent, why can’t he cross the sea? He made it as far as the Dragon Isles.”

“We don’t know if he was really there.” Julian ran a hand through his sandy hair. “He could have just sent his lackeys.”

“We can’t assume he didn’t go with them.” Elda squared her shoulders. “We go onto this fight expecting all of them to come. Better to overprepare than to be caught off guard.”

“I wish my kin could help us,” Irileth sighed. “Cerilla would be a great help. She might even sway Odessa.”

“Odessa?” Julian and Elda echoed together.

“The Second. She is the most powerful Spirit next to Aeon. She has a soft spot for Cerilla, which Aeon has always hated.” Irileth clasped her hands behind her back and smiled. “Cerilla is unlike the rest of us. Her power is unique.”

Julian frowned. “How?”

“You call us Creators, but only a few of us have the power to actually make something new. Aeon is one. I assume Hephaestus can do the same, since he claims he made you.” She gestured to Elda. “And Cerilla is the last. Her help would be invaluable in this fight.”

“Can you contact her?” Elda asked.

Irileth shook her head. “Hephaestus has cut off my links to the other Spirits. That’s why Aetheria and I are in our earthly forms.”

“I can contact Cerilla.” The familiar voice made them turn. Aurora leaned against the outer wall, still clad in her fur lined armour and glowing like a midday sun. “I’m not linked to a Keeper, but I wasn’t called back to Aeon either.”

Irileth frowned. “Then what have you been doing?”

“Watching.” Aurora pushed away from the wall. “The Corrupted took the Dragon Isles. Malakai wasn’t with them.”

“And you didn’t try to stop them?” Julian asked.

“They are runed,” the warrior Spirit shrugged. “Whatever Malakai did to them has turned them into formidable opponents. And now they have the Soul Forge, or what’s left of him.”

Elda flinched. “We know.”

“Cynthia is the source of the plague. She now controls him.”

“Can he…” Elda’s voice wobbled. She swallowed and tried again. “Is he aware?”

Aurora’s hard features softened a fraction. “No. He cannot see what his power is doing. He is dead.”

“Good.” Though it hurt to know he was truly gone, the princess took peace from the knowledge that he couldn’t see the things his corpse was forced to do.

Elda took a deep breath, forcing back the sick feeling rising up her throat. She’d get her husband’s body back even if it cost her her life. The Saviour of Valerus deserved a fitting burial in the palace mausoleum, like any royal of Eden. He deserved to be mourned, to be shown respect and treated with the utmost care in death.

“Our goal is simple,” she decided. “To kill the snake, you cut off its head. If the wielder of all that magic is gone, the plague will cease and the undead will become nothing more than bodies on the ground again. Cynthia is our priority, even if Malakai shows up here. Agreed?”

The others shared glances, then nodded. “Agreed,” the chorused.