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The king barely ducked out of the path of Leir’s sword, his eyes widening at the number of portals that had appeared. Amidst the commotion, a guard shouted something, but his words got lost.
Demons broke through the dark holes, wearing capes of fire. The temperature rose, and the drizzle of rain turned to steam, making the heat all the more suffocating. If it weren’t for Gallon’s armor, Arkimedes’s skin would be blistering.
Leir glared at the armored guards who rushed out of the shadows and attacked the Zorren. Then he noticed Arkimedes.
Arkimedes dodged the emissary’s attack that felled a tree ten feet behind him. Judging by the rage burning in Leir’s features, he hadn’t expected the guards, nor had he realized Arkimedes was also here.
A scream tore from the Emissary’s lips when the king cut the side of his misshapen wing. The feathers melted away as soon as they touched the ground, like they hadn’t been from this world to begin with.
“Now, Nava!”
She appeared right beside the emissary and swung the dagger into the cocoon of Leir’s dark aura, slicing underneath one of his ribs. The knife should slow down even Leir’s immortal healing, giving Arkimedes and the king a better chance to steal his weapon.
Inky waves wrapped around Nava’s hand, and blotchy black veins rapidly extended up her arm. She pulled back with a pained scream. Her eyes cut to him before she disappeared.
Leir clutched his side with one hand while he swung his sword toward the king once more. A cloud of dry earth and ash billowed in the air, making it hard to see.
“Nava, where are you?” Panic rushed through Arkimedes, all-consuming like the fire. He couldn’t focus on anything when she wasn’t answering. “Nava?” he repeated, but only met silence.
He couldn’t breathe. His eyes searched the clearing for a sign that she was all right. The air sizzled with such power it singed his lashes. He pulled at the bond in his gut, reaching further.
“Aristaeus, are you here?”
“Protector?”
The Beekeeper’s voice shook him from his stupor. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted, even if he wanted—no, needed—to make sure Nava was alright. If they didn’t defeat Leir, no one in the entire kingdom would be fine. He needed to get a grip.
The air around the emissary seared Arkimedes’s nostrils and burned down his throat as he approached. Blisters formed over the exposed skin of his body, and it took everything inside him not to take off in the other direction to find Nava.
He struck with his blade and cut Leir’s hand off from his wrist. Leir’s sword fell to the ground, much like it had done during their first fight.
The weapon steamed with black tendrils that wrapped around Arkimedes’s fingers as he reached for it. He heaved as the sword scalded his skin. Bone-melting pain racked through him. Taking a sharp breath, he attempted to straighten, his ears ringing as Aristaeus materialized beside him.
A beastly snarl escaped the Beekeeper’s jagged lips as he held a demon, shielding Arkimedes. “Use our connection to nature to push through,” Aristaeus commanded inside Arkimedes’s throbbing skull.
Arkimedes breathed through the pain of holding the artifact, finding the strength to use it. “Is Nava hurt?” He hadn’t sensed her in so long. “Something is wrong.”
“Focus on the emissary and live.” Aristaeus’s voice was a growl, and then he disappeared.
41
NAVA
Even as Nava transferred away, the burn from Leir’s dark aura was immediate and it seared her flesh. Blood rushed in her ears, drowning out the demons’ roars in the distance. Her body moved across the planes, barely evading a claw that reached up through the air and the sharp iron nails that scraped at her.
There were so many Zorren down in the clearing, Nava couldn’t land anywhere as weak as she felt. She followed the call of the forest, and it led her to an area shrouded by tall bushes, untouched by fire.
Nausea bubbled up in her gut as she materialized behind one of the largest trees, not too far from Arkimedes. She could return to him once she’d neutralized the venom of the knife. She reached for the satchel hanging across her chest with shaking hands and pulled out one of the small vials Arkimedes had stuffed in there earlier.
The healing potion tasted of sweet lavender, and it immediately eased her pain. Blinking away her blurred vision, she inspected the cut in her hand. How had she managed to cut herself with the King’s poisoned dagger during her attack? It hurt so damn much, and true to Oberon’s words, the wound on her fingers oozed blood like it wasn’t mending.
“Nava?” Arkimedes called to her through their bond. He was worried, and with reason. If the roles had been reversed, she would be looking for him everywhere. She shoved the knife into its sheath, cursing her clumsy fingers and her stupidity at getting injured by her own weapon.
“She’s alone,” a female hissed from the shadows, her voice eerily familiar.
Nava’s head snapped to the side just as a Dark One emerged from behind a tree, moving so fast she was a blur of feathers and black mist.
The copper armor caught the glare of fire in the distance, right before the heavy mass of a bony fist collided with Nava’s cheekbone. She staggered with a hiss, eyes wide as five females appeared around her.
