I gave him a look. “Trust me. Something is wrong.”
Fire was the next to greet Paris, and this time, the symbol glowed, and fiery embers rose up. The symbol ignited and fingers of fire raced across the ground as if drawn to her, and flames ignited her dress. Paris cried out in fear, but instead of burning her, the flames tickled as they danced across her skin and settled into the palms of her hands.
A chorus of excited voices rang out, for it was said that they needed more fire users. They were considered some of the strongest. It would be years before she could call it freely or branch out into what area of fire magic she would study. But from now on, her clothes would bear the mark of fire.
“Paris, tonight fire has claimed you. Welcome,” Rethulian called out, and the elders clapped.
The flicker on the veil came again, and this time I reached for the enchanted knife on my thigh. Rheanon had crafted it for me. It struck true, never missing its target. I slipped behind the group of elves and made my way around the platform. It would be faster if I ran straight through, but I couldn’t interrupt the sacred ceremony.
Ardax didn’t need any more prompting. We silently moved our way through the mass of people, slipping between the crowd. I tapped Einan and Taris as we passed and signaled with my hands the word for trouble. Soon the signal had made its way around the circle, and almost all the scouts were on alert, but none knew why. My gut instinct told me that something was trying to break through the veil. I could sense it. The darkness, the hunger for magic. I had felt it before. Deep inside of me.
As soon as I stepped in front of the veil, a blast sent everyone flying backwards as the veil ripped open and magic burst through, knocking half of the bystanders out cold.
“We’re under attack!” I cried out as the first monster slipped through. It was a four-legged beast that moved like a cat, but instead of fur, it was covered in black, shimmering scales that flickered with burning flames. With yellow eyes, its face was long and narrow like a lizard.
I put myself right in its path, but it flew over me with a mighty leap and ran straight for the center platform, directly toward Paris.
The child screamed, and her hands flickered with untamed fire magic, but it wasn’t enough. I flung my knife, and it struck the demon beast in the base of the neck, burrowing deep into his skull. Instantly, he fell down dead, his giant maw open, only inches from Paris.
Rethulian looked up in surprise as more of the four-legged creatures plowed through the veil. “Hellhounds! But how?”
The pack of hellhounds attacked, aiming for the unarmed elves. The Denizens appeared in the sacred hollow, a blazing fury of white metal armor, but then they froze, weapons held in the air mid-strike, as if controlled by an unseen magical force.
“Fight! Protect the people!” Rethulian commanded, but the Denizens lowered their weapons and one by one they collapsed to the ground, unmoving like a puppet whose strings were cut. Dead.
Panic increased at the sight of the protectors falling, and the people screamed and tried to run for safety.
The hellhounds continued to pour out of the veil.
Einan intervened, placing himself in front of the magical opening. He took down the next hellhound that jumped through, but the next one slipped past him and was racing toward me.
“Honor!” Percy called my name as he kicked a hellhound in the face. I looked up just as a glorious double-headed axe flew through the air toward me.
I caught the handle and adjusted to the weight of Rumple.
“I’m so glad to see you,” I said.
“So, you did miss me?” Rumple quipped.
Swinging him in an arc, I took down one of the beasts. “Less talking and more—”
“Chopping!” He laughed, and I dove into the fight headfirst, rolling to avoid being taken down by a hellhound, then coming up swinging to cut through the jaw of another.
I felt an attack coming and turned just as a hellhound lunged for my throat. My stomach dropped. I wasn’t fast enough and tried to raise the handle to block it, but a body stepped in front of me and caught the hellhound midair before tossing it away. It had been stabbed multiple times in successive hits before it touched the ground. Ardax’s attack was so fast that I didn’t even see it.
Ardax turned and gave me a nod. “We don’t have enough weapons, and it’s forbidden to use magic in the grove unless you’re part of the ceremony.”
“I think the elders would forgive you just this once,” I said, ripping the hem of my dress, giving me room to run and fight. I was secretly mad at myself for even asking for a dress. I should have come in pants.
A scream of terror followed as another hellhound attacked an elf and he fell from the steps.
Ardax was hesitant. I looked around at the scouts who were fighting with small knives, makeshift weapons, or using hand-to-hand combat against much larger creatures that were made of magic. I could feel it. This night, a night meant for celebration, was one of the few nights a year where our scouts and soldiers weren’t allowed to come armed with anything other than ceremonial weapons for dress. It wasn’t a coincidence the attack happened during the ceremony, where magic was also forbidden.
I swung the axe, keeping my back toward Ardax. Even though we had never trained together, he was still a scout, and our training kicked in to cover each other’s back.
“Duck,” I yelled, and Ardax stooped as I swung over his head and took down a hellhound that came from above.
“Thanks,” he gasped. “There’s no end to them.”
“You have to use magic to close the veil and stop those things from coming through.”
Ardax nodded. “I don’t like it, but you’re right.”
“What was that?” I called out over my shoulder as he moved toward the tear in the magic veil. “Could you say it again, louder this time?”
“Never,” Ardax yelled. The stoic elf slashed his way toward the veil. His arms were bloody, and I could see his face was void of emotion. Ardax was earth magic; I could feel the rumble of the ground rising to his call, the ley lines moving, shifting to feed him magic as he prepared to mend the veil. A hellhound lunged for him, and before I could even raise my axe, Rulah launched onto the hellhounds back and with the end of a fallen Denizen’s spear, stabbed it into the back of its neck. I looked up to see her eyes filled with fury.
“Protect Ardax, you idiot!” she screamed.
“What do you think I’m doing?” I hissed and turned to one side while Rulah took the other. Side by side we fought, cutting down every hellhound that was now rushing and targeting Ardax as he attempted to close the veil.
Percy was working his way towards us, but he was protecting a group of women. He tried to move them back up the hill, but was constantly getting cut off. He, like Rulah, had taken a spear from the downed Denizen. His fighting was beautiful; graceful like a deadly dance, and anyone that came too close was cut down and knocked out cold.
I grimaced as a hellhound got too close, his claw slicing my bare arm. It burned like fire as its flames and claws ripped through my flesh.
I was slowing down. I could feel my reaction times getting slower.
Focus, I told myself, and zeroed in on watching the hounds. They would bend low, their eyes narrowed, then launch into the air only to be cut down by Rulah’s spear or my axe. But I was making more mistakes. Mistakes I shouldn’t have been making. Then I felt it. A surge as my body reached out.