Elara wedged herself against the wall, trying to make herself smaller.
Hugh grinned at her. “Fun!”
The man was a maniac. She had married a raving lunatic.
A deep bellow shook the castle, as if some god blew an enormous trumpet.
Hugh raised his head and she squirmed from under him, trying to see.
The trees snapped, parting. Something snaked between the crowns, a long dark thing that swung and coiled. It caught a tree and yanked it out of the ground, turning it sideways. Clumps of soil rained down from the root ball. The tree flew aside and through the gap Elara saw a moving darkness. It leaned left, then right, still hidden by the forest. Five-foot wide trunks snapped like toothpicks and crashed aside, carrying branches with them, giving way to something impossibly large. A blunt head emerged, level with the top of the forest canopy and crowned by a mesh of braided golden ropes, each as thick as her wrist. A brilliant blue jewel embedded in the flesh sat in the middle of the forehead, where the net came to a point. Two more heads joined it and a creature emerged into the open. It had three heads, each flanked by wide ears. Six ivory tusks thrust into the air, each large enough to impale and carry off a truck. Its hide was solid black, as if it swallowed the evening sunlight.
Erawan.
The colossal elephant took a step forward. The armored cabin on its neck rocked. A huge chain was coiled around his legs. The ground shook. Lightning dashed along Erawan’s hide, spattering in bursts of electric blue, and in the light of those explosions, Elara saw long white scars crossing the elephant’s hide.
Armed people emerged from the woods, ants next to a giant, and trotted toward the castle. Above him, a rain cloud boiled, just large enough to cover the hill. It ended abruptly, and beyond it the sky was the clear beautiful blue of early evening.
“Elara,” Hugh called.
She felt Erawan’s mind, dark and turbulent like a storm cloud. It called to her.
“Elara!”
She reached out and brushed the edge of the storm with a wisp of her power. Agony exploded in her mind, images bursting one after another: blood on the tusks, bodies under feet, the trumpet screams, flesh and bone collapsing under the immense weight, forehead smashing a house wall and emerging streaked with concrete dust, blood and rain, buildings, shredded and destroyed, people, tossed and trampled, pain, chains, and blood, the stench, the feel, the vivid red of human blood.
“Honey!” Hugh snarled in her ear.
She jerked, breaking the contact, and clamped her hand over her mouth. The horror of it stained her.
Hugh gripped her shoulder, turning her toward him. “That is a big ass distraction. Nez is going to milk it for all it’s got. He wouldn’t have deployed it, if the digging crew weren’t closing in. I need you in the tunnels.”
“He’s divine.”
“What?”
“Erawan. He is divine.”
“Yes, I know. Tunnels, Elara.”
“You can’t kill him.”
Hugh patted her shoulder. “Of course, I can. I can and I will.”
“No!” she grabbed his hand, desperate. “He’s enslaved. He’s suffering. You can’t kill him.”
He stared at her. “Elara, you’re killing me. It’s a giant fucking elephant, who is going to knock down our walls in about five minutes.”
“It’s not his fault!”
Hugh squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment.
“Promise me you won’t kill him. Promise me, Hugh, and I’ll go into the tunnels. Please!”
Hugh opened his eyes, clenched his fist, unclenched it, and said, “Okay.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise,” he ground out. “Now, please go to the tunnels.”
She ran down the steps. Behind her, Hugh roared. “Find Dugas! Get me that fucking druid!”
Elara hurried down the stairs. The winding stone stairway curved, burrowing lower and lower, and finally came to an end in a heavy wood and metal door. It stood wide open. Elara walked through it. A round chamber waited, walls and floor stone. Torches and fey lanterns glowed on the wall, flooding the space with so much light, they put electric bulbs to shame. Four arched doorways punctured the wall at even intervals, leading from the chamber into a circular hallway ringing the chamber in a semicircle.
In the middle of the floor a twelve-year-old blond girl sat cross-legged, holding on to a teddy bear. Johanna stood next to her.
Elara joined them. “Anything?”
“Three.” Magdalena raised three fingers. “One here.” She pointed directly ahead. “One there.” The finger moved slightly to the right. “And one there.” Far right.
Above them something thudded. Elara looked up.
“What’s going on?” Johanna signed.
“Elephant,” Elara explained and crouched by Magdalena. “How far are they, honey?”
Magdalena hugged her bear, concentrating. “Getting closer. They’re fast. Very fast.”
Vampires. Had to be. Killing vampires required an effort. It wasn’t as easy as ripping out a human soul. She could kill mrogs by simple touch. She would have to concentrate on the undead. Elara took a deep breath. She’d never had to kill them in bulk.
Another thud. A puff of dust broke off the ceiling.
“They broke into a hallway,” Magdalena said. “They are still far, but they’re coming faster now. There.” She pointed to the far right.
Elara looked at Johanna. “Take her out and bar the door.”
Johanna shook her head. “No.”
“Yes. We might need your power. If they get through me, you are the last line of defense.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Johanna, nothing about today has anything to do with want. Your power is vital. We will use it as a last resort only.” “Go,” she said for emphasis.
Quick steps echoed through the stairs behind them. Bale ran into the chamber, carrying his mace. Four Iron Dogs followed him, two men and two women. The best of the berserkers.
“What are you doing here?” Elara asked.
“We are your support,” Bale said.
Hugh had sent backup.
“Leave,” she said.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, we can’t do that. We will obey your orders, but we have to stay,” Bale said.
“What do you fear, Bale?” she asked him.
“Nothing,” he said.
“You will fear after today,” she said.
The berserker gripped his mace. “We have our orders.”
“What did he say?” Johanna asked.
“Hugh sent him to guard me.”
“They’re coming,” Magdalena said. “They are close.”
“Take her out now,” Elara signed to Johanna. “Bar the door. Do this for me. Please.”
The witch took Magdalena by the hand and led her outside. The door shut, and the heavy metal bar thudded into place.
“Stand against the wall,” Elara said. “Do not move. Do not speak.”
Bale opened his mouth.
“My husband told you to obey my orders. Obey.”
The Iron Dogs flattened themselves against the wall on both sides of the door. Elara straightened. Her magic uncoiled within her.
The first vampire dashed sideways behind the doorway, a grotesque shadow, silent like a ghost.
She pulled the bracelet off her left wrist and dropped it to the floor. The metal sometimes interfered.