Light the Reign (The Forgotten: Book 3) Read online

  He lunged towards her, and she skipped away, her eyes darting around the ring for something useful to use as a weapon. She sent Gryffon a silent thanks for the self-defense training he had insisted that she receive in the wake of their assassin troubles, and focused on the task at hand. Soon, her terrified shaking calmed and she concentrated on nothing but countering the movements of her opponent.

  He was circling back around, drawing back his hand for a sweeping motion. She immediately ducked out of the way, but realized too late that she hadn’t compensated for the fact that she was fighting a beast, not a human. Instead of punching at her, he had swiped, and his freakishly long fingernails bit into the tender flesh of her cheek with searing pain.

  Her hand flew to the spot reflexively, and she let out a hissing breath. The monster’s eyes bulged at the sight of her blood, its movements becoming more and more frenzied. It licked its dry and cracking lips with excitement. She stared it down dispassionately. It was easier to forget that it had once been human when it was trying to kill you. She immediately regretted the thought, but had no time for remorse as she had to duck out of the way of the next blow.

  This one she neatly avoided, and landed a thumping punch on the beast’s back as it passed. It arched its body in response, but made no sound, which was somehow eerier than had it screamed in pain. It somehow twisted around, in a seemingly impossibly flexible motion, and snapped its teeth at her.

  Her training allowed her to stand her ground, and she brought her fist up in an uppercut. It slammed the creature’s jaws together with a resounding crack, and it stumbled backwards. It spit out a tooth, cocking its head to the side in confusion at it lying on the ground.

  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.

  Lady Aria was more vocal. “Where is this?” she demanded.

  “Just outside the town of Valdor,” Lord Whitcomb answered this time.

  Aria bit her lip. “It is somewhat secluded in that region, we should be able to contain it as well.” She paused. “Hopefully we’ll be able to cure it soon.” She glanced over to Layna and Gryffon.

  Layna blinked her eyes wide a few times, willing them to stay open. “Katya only has one more stone to retrieve, and it is from the tribe who has traveled with them from the beginning. As soon as she gets it, we will be able to use the power of all the stones combined to break the curse. Along with the chokeroot and the healing water, we can beat this thing.” She paused in thought, hating to make any decisions when she was as tired as she was, but feeling as though this was the correct one. “Gryffon and I will stop taking the chokeroot to prepare for the need of our talents to help break the curse and spread the cure. Once we clear it up in the city, we should be able to take care of it on your manor. Until then, you should try and contain the spread as best you can.�
�� She glanced over at Gryffon, hoping he didn’t mind her making that decision for them both, but he just nodded assent.

  “Of course we are!” Lord Whitcomb snapped, but looked immediately contrite, taking in her sunken eyes and split cheek, and both her and Gryffon’s haggard appearances. “Are you quite all right, Queen Layna?”

  She smiled, regretting the broadness of her grin as it cracked the wound, and cringed in pain. “We had a successful break-up of a fighting ring where people were pitting the Bricrui against one another. Nice to know that there are people finding the bright side of this situation,” she added sarcastically.

  “Indeed,” Lady Aria said dryly. “It is good to hear some better news for a change. However, I am shocked that you seem to have put yourselves in harm’s way. I must insist that the two of you be more careful, your combined talent will be needed for the spell, which is doubly important now that we have another outbreak.”

  “Yes, yes,” agreed Whitcomb, “You need to be safely tucked away in the palace, not out breaking up fighting rings!” His sudden concern for their welfare would have been touching had Layna any doubt that it was based on anything other than solely his realization that Treymayne might need them after all.

  She and Gryffon both promised that they would be more careful, and after speaking of a few other matters, they were finally left alone. The moment the contact was broken, Layna collapsed onto the table, resting her head on her arms.

  “Are you alright?” one of the Council members asked, and Layna raised her head. She had almost forgotten they were there. Though it wasn’t nearly as bad as showing weakness to the Treymayne Ieldran – and Layna would like to think that she would be cut a little slack after seeing all of them as blubbering idiots under Telvani’s spell – she could just hear Amelia’s nagging voice. Telling her that she needed to be regal at all times. Lady Aria was also watching them with a concerned expression, and Layna sat straighter in her chair.