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“Did you just quote Sun Tzu at me?” Ayda had to focus on keeping herself from tripping on her long skirt as she looked at him in shock.
“One of the smartest dragons to ever live,” Hùisdean noted casually. “I haven't had the pleasure of meeting him yet, though.”
“He's alive?” Ayda nearly shrieked, wondering if the infamous strategist was hibernating in the mountains.
Hùisdean said nothing and indicated towards the great hall, which they had snuck up on while talking. Ayda turned her face and gasped, finding herself yet again unprepared for the magnitude of the castle.
The great hall was decorated from floor to ceiling with bright, twinkling lights, as though it was covered with thousands of tiny stars. The walls were lined with arched windows, revealing a wooded grove just outside. The wall was cut away in several places for more branches to grow inside the great hall, creating a canopy over the dinner table. Ayda thought it was like being inside a flower.
“This is breathtaking.” She couldn't stop looking around. There was always something else to see. The tables were lined with food, some people helping themselves while others sipped wine. Ayda reminded herself that while the elves loved to dress up and appreciated formality. Their dinner parties typically tended to go until dawn, so people were encouraged to eat and drink on whatever schedule they pleased.
“Right this way,” Hùisdean indicated towards the head of the room. Ayda saw Elion, Imra, and Wyn waiting on them, looking their way with eager smiles. “I made sure they put you at our table—”
A high-pitched shrieking suddenly shook the room. The crowd gasped as people fell to their knees, covering their ears against the grating noise. It got higher and louder, causing Ayda to hiss and try to block it out. She nearly dropped to the stone floor in agitation, but Hùisdean had already readied his sword. He signaled to the guards, and everyone advanced, trying to find the source of the unbearable sound.
It echoed off the stone, shaking the tree branches and causing petals to fall. It continued only to get louder until Ayda was hunched over, fumbling for the dagger she’d hidden between her breasts—she never left home without one. There was a momentary break in the constant shrieking, and everyone slowly stood up, looking around in fright.
Without warning, all the horrendous cries started up again, and they sounded closer than ever.
The massive windows shattered, sending torrents of glass shards over the great hall. Ayda dropped her dagger and covered her head, squeezing her eyes shut against the falling fragments. The gallery was full of people screaming, glass falling from the windows, and the ever-present shrieking. Ayda only took a moment to center herself, and once the glass had stopped falling, she gripped her blade again and jumped to her feet.
Her mouth dropped as dozens of spectral figures poured through the open windows. They were grotesque, floating above the ground with deformed faces. Each wore ripped, tattered black robes with hoods pulled up, barely covering their skeletal faces. They started to swarm and fly around the great hall, rotting corpses with mouths that didn't seem to close.
Ayda's nose was flooded with death’s scent, and a dark, wicked magic permeated the air. Her stomach lurched in protest at the intrusion. Whatever this magic was, it was the opposite of earth magic. It had nothing to do with green fields and growing trees. It was like oil, seeping into the cracks of Ayda's being and poisoning it.
“Ayda!” Hùisdean screamed, his voice breaking through the din. She turned around and saw him, poised for battle and backed by a handful of guards. His sword was extended, and it cracked with power, but by the faint glimmer of green magic that traveled down the blade, Ayda could tell it wasn't much.
“Get down!” he shouted again, waving at her with his other hand.
“NO!” She shook her head, tightening her grip on her dagger. She didn't look at him again, instead turning to the undead horde that threatened them all.
Ayda didn't think twice. She launched herself on top of the long banquet table, running down the center aisle of it. She smashed food and cutlery under her feet as she went, hopping over the more elaborate centerpieces. There was a group of ghosts, and their claws extended toward a huddled group of elven women at the end of the table. Ayda set her sights on them, and as she approached, she took a running jump off the edge. She flew through the air and brought her dagger down amid the spectral demons.
Ayda didn't know what to expect—the ghosts didn't look fully corporeal—but she descended through the body of one while aimlessly attempting to drive her blade through it. It didn't pass through the spirit entirely, nor was it solid. It was like attacking a bowl of gelatin. However, the disturbance worked well enough, and the small group of demons dissipated with a loud shriek to regroup.
The second thing that Ayda noticed was her entire body went cold. She was frozen down to the bone in a way that made her forget what it was like to be warm. She didn't give herself a second to regroup. Ayda jumped and spun around, preparing to launch again at any attacking spirits.
“That is the opposite of ‘get down,’ just so you know!” Hùisdean sounded furious and much closer. Ayda turned and found him behind her, followed by a contingency of elven warriors.
Hùisdean's blade had stopped glowing, and his face looked pale. She noticed all his soldier's weapons looked rusted as if they had aged a thousand years in a few short minutes. The spirits continued shrieking above them, spinning in an ominous vortex. Ayda winced as she tried to talk over the noise.
“What are they—oh!” Ayda pointed to the demons with her dagger, only to realize it was rusted to the hilt.
“Draugr!” Hùisdean spit, looking up at them with fury. The great hall had almost emptied, only warriors remaining as the draugr regrouped ahead. “Norse spirits of the dead. They're nasty pieces of work. They'll drain you of any magic in your body if you fight them long enough. Was your dagger enchanted?”
They all ducked as a draugr swooped near their heads, too close for comfort. The howl of the wind and their disturbed cries were deafening. The soldiers were all shouting to devise a game plan.
“What do they want?” Ayda's voice cracked as she tried to be heard above the chaos.
Hùisdean shook his head. “We don't know! The curse—” He was cut off as a draugr started descending straight for him.
At the sight of one of the undead swooping towards their crown prince, the warriors around him got into position in the blink of an eye. One row of soldiers dropped to one knee and held up their shields while another stood behind them and interlocked their shields on top. They shoved their swords through carefully crafted openings, effectively creating a barrier between the draugr and Hùisdean.
Ayda was impressed by the elves’ swift and deadly movements, but she could hear Hùisdean cursing behind the brigade, even with the unstoppable shrieking.
“You never let me have any fun!” he screamed as one draugr deflected at the last second and rocketed back towards the ceiling. A second one began hurtling towards them at a rapid pace.
Ayda's mouth fell open, and she temporarily forgot the danger they were in as Hùisdean launched himself over the top of his men's shields.
