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Sloane
Cord frowned at the book and then Cornelius’s note. Flicking through the book, he looked for any other notes or torn pages. Everything seemed as it should. Cord sat at the desk, ignoring his dirty clothing marking the cushions. He looked at Cornelius’s note one more time and then his brother’s message.
His eyes widened even as his hand flew to his mouth to find the half smirk pulling his lip up in the corner. Corneliusdidwear the same cocky grin when he had been cleverer than his opponents.
Cord leaned back and looked at the note. His first instinct had been to crush it, burn it, but now his hand stilled on the heavy linen paper. With a small sigh, he cautiously folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket. It was perhaps the most honest thing Cornelius had ever said to him, and in this moment, it was the aid he needed.
His fingers lingered on the book from his brother, and he carefully wrapped it back in the protective cloth. Standing, he looked around the room before he left it to go to the kitchen. As he ran the tap for a moment to get fresh water, he looked out into the snow. He waited before he filled a glass, his eyes resting on the body in the snow. After a quick drink and carefully washing his hands, he went back outside.
Stooping in the snow, he lifted the body into his arms, once more turning his head from the accusation in the stare.
He glanced once back at her house before Cord portalled them both back to the mountain.
Placing the lifeless corpse on the snow, he looked up to the ledge of the mountain from where Leonid had been tossed over. He could feel the presence of the Darkness rushing to meet him, and Cord looked to the sky once more. It was night here, and the stars were hidden by heavy cloud, the moon shy, only showing herself for brief moments. The land was in darkness except from a few small fires in the basin below him.
Cord glanced at the body lying in the snow and turned his back once more. With anger and building rage, he portalled to the foot of the mountain. His appearance startled the Drakhyn that had been gathered around a small fire to keep warm. He cut them down with little effort and was burning them even as he walked past, onto the tents closer to the mountain.
Several Drakhyn rushed him, and he met their attack as he fought them. He relished the release of his anger, and he lost himself in the fight.
Until suddenly there were no more to fight.
Several Drakhyn lay at his feet and around him, and as Cord wiped his brow from sweat, he cleaned his sword on the body of a fallen. Turning slowly, he took in their camp. There had only been twenty, maybe a handful more. Such a small number that waited for a siege to be over.
Cord eyed the wagons. He had been curious about them from the beginning, and the stench that came from them as he neared almost made him not want to open them. With his sleeve over his nose, he opened the first one.
Bodies lay scattered within. Torn. Used. Ravaged. Dead.
Swallowing down his anger and his fury, he opened all the wagons. His Flare pulsed inside him, eager to be used, and moving carefully among the dead, he checked for life.
There was none.
If ever he had needed a reminder as to why this war was needed to fight these monsters and why these Drakhyn could never win, this was it. If he could, he would bring all the Drakhyn sympathisers to this place, to these wagons, and make them fully understandwhatevil they were standing up beside.
With reverence, he cast the spell that set the wagons alight. With wrath, he laid waste to the grounds where the Drakhyn had camped. The flames reached high into the night, and he knew the house where Marcus and Lucas were would know who set the foot of the mountain on fire.
Cord walked with confidence as he approached the entrance into the mountain. The old archaic engraved doors that stood ten feet tall mocked him as he advanced. They had opened for no one. Would they open for him?
As his eyes roamed the engravings and the wrought ironwork that accentuated the doors, he felt a warning from his Mark, and turning his head to the side, he eyed the shadows.
“You watch, but you are not yet ready to face me.” Cord turned his head more fully. “We can end this here and now,” he offered quietly.
A tall Drakhyn stepped out of the shadows. The one from the Castors’ hall. The one who laid claim tohisbonded. It smiled and Cord bared his teeth in return.
“You look lost,” the Drakhyn said conversationally.
Cord looked around and back to the Drakhyn and half shrugged. “I know exactly where I am, do you?”
“You think that to kill my soldiers, by yourself, makes you strong,” the Drakhyn sneered.
“No, it merely shows I am the better fighter than the scum that was here.”
“I am not scared of you,” the Drakhyn said as it stepped forward, its eyes narrowed into slits.
“And I would call you a liar,” Cord said with a mocking smile. “Why not stop with the illusion and face me, here and now. Tell yourmasterit is time to stop playing and finish this, I am bored of waiting.”
“I will never stop until I have her.” Its fevered look was one of madness. “She is to bemine.”
Despite the anger the Drakhyn’s words incited, Cord turned away from it with a dismissive shake of his head. “You do not hold my interest,” he told it.
