A Thunder of War (The Avalon Chronicles Book 3) Page 10

  She left the room and went back into the center of the chamber outside. “Misdirection,” she decided, walking over to the third black-and-silver door that was also without a rune. She pushed it, but it wouldn’t budge, so she crushed it and pulled it out of the doorway, revealing a small room that was empty apart from small mounds of dirt.

  They tunneled their way out, she thought to herself. They made the elves think that the rune-scribed rooms were hiding something, knowing that the elves would be obsessed with getting into a room they couldn’t get to. Which means one of the rooms must have a way out.

  She returned to the main chamber, hastily removed a gold door from another room and placed it where the black-and-silver one had been. Checking out the room, she found it similar to the one with all the paper, except for one thing; it contained another door. She went over and gave it a small shove. It opened to reveal a set of stairs leading down to the rear of the building. Relieved at discovering a way out, she quickly repaired the black-and-silver metal door she’d crushed and fixed it into position where the gold door had been. When she was sure that the coast was clear, she ran down the stairs as fast as she could.

  9

  LAYLA CASSIDY

  Layla took the final quarter of the steps three at a time until she reached the stone-covered street at the bottom. A huge iron gate sat between her and an alley beyond, and nearby buildings cast dark shadows over everything around her. She moved the metal aside, creating a hole large enough to climb through, and, once free, ran through Sanctuary’s winding alleys, avoiding patrols and staying as far away from the blood elves and Elizabeth as possible.

  Layla wondered whether she could use whatever tunnels the dwarves had dug to escape the city, but it looked like the dwarves had collapsed the tunnel the second it was safe to do so. The best option was to keep running.

  She reached the end of an alley and had to force herself to stop as she saw another blood elf commander further up the street, although this one had a dark-gray cat with it. A cat that was probably the same height as Layla.

  What the hell is that? she asked herself, not sure she actually wanted an answer. She hoped that whatever it was was too far away to be able to smell her. Not wanting to take that risk, she turned and ran back down the alley. She wove in and out of the alleys until she found herself in a large cavern where torches burned along each wall, lighting up the ruins and temple inside. The temple was at least seven stories tall and made from brilliant-white brick.

  Her entire plan had been to get as far from Elizabeth and her blood elves as possible, but the maze of roads and alleyways that all looked the same meant she was quickly lost. Hopefully that would make it harder for her enemies to find her, but it also meant she didn’t know which way to go next. She turned around as the sound of footsteps alerted her to three blood elves stepping out from the side of the temple.

  “You smell tasty,” one of the blood elves said. He was the smallest of the three with a nasty cut across one eye and a nose that had been broken so many times it was impossible to know what its original shape had been. “Told not to feast on you, but maybe just a little bit.”

  Layla watched the three elves as they approached her, until they were only ten feet from her. “I wonder how quickly I could kill you?”

  The elves snarled at Layla and one stepped forward. Layla took two steps toward the blood elves, then turned her metal arm into a spear, piercing the nearest blood elf’s skull. The metal returned to her arm as the elf dropped dead to the ground.

  The other two elves—including the one with the broken nose—charged Layla, who turned her arm into a blade and, dodging the first strike, drove it into the exposed throat of the second blood elf. She darted away from another blow and circled the remaining blood elf. She reached out to take control of the dark-purple sword, but discovered it wasn’t made of metal like she’d expected.

  “Crystal blade,” the blood elf said with a sick chuckle, sounding as if it had phlegm caught in its throat. It darted toward Layla, who had to move quickly to avoid the blade, but the blood elf drew a dagger and twisted itself to stab her in the ribs with it. She jerked away, but it still cut through her leather armor with ease. Layla felt blood trickle down her stomach.

  She parried a strike with the sword, and watched in horror as the blood elf’s sword cut through her metal arm, severing the blade she’d created. Layla backed away, putting several feet between her and her attacker, who licked the blade with his tongue, cutting it open, but showed no evidence of pain or distress, even as its blood coated part of the weapon.

  Layla reattached her metal blade to the rest of her arm, before remaking her hand, and took a deep breath. The blood elf moved forward, swinging the sword in an effort to get her to step back toward a nearby wall, but instead she stepped around the elf, narrowly avoiding being cut, before making her blade twice as long and driving it into its skull.

  She withdrew the blade and remade her hand before walking off to the temple where she found a barrel of water. She washed her arms in the cold liquid and splashed some on her face. She wasn’t sure whether or not it was sanitary, but it couldn’t be any worse than having blood elf splattered all over her.

  A low growl from behind her took her attention, and she turned around as a blood elf commander walked toward her, accompanied by one of the cats. Being much closer to the beast gave Layla an unwelcome chance to see just how big it was.

  “Saber-tooth panther,” the commander said, patting the creature, which was larger than any cat Layla had ever seen. It was as tall as Layla and looked like something you rode into battle. The fur was blacker than she’d assumed earlier and shimmered purple as it moved.

  “We introduced some to the crystals,” the commander said. “Makes them more trainable.”

  “Nice for you,” Layla said, backing around to the side of the temple and heading down a gentle slope.

  “You can’t outrun us,” the commander said, walking after her as if he had all the time in the world. “She got your scent—she’ll track you all over this mountain until she claims her prize.”

  “Ah, I’m a prize,” Layla said sarcastically. “How sweet.”

  Layla stopped at the bottom of the slope, which opened into a large space surrounded by several small huts. She didn’t risk a proper look as taking her eyes off the commander or beast beside him was probably a bad idea.

  “So, is it the crystals that make you big then?” Layla asked the commander.

  The commander smiled and unslung a black maul from his back, placing the massive steel head on the ground. The head was flat at one end with a spike on the other, and appeared to be made of the same substance as the sword the blood elf had used earlier. Even the shaft of the weapon was made from wood. Her power was useless against it.

  “Sit,” the commander told the panther, who did as she was told. He turned back to Layla. “I wonder if I can break you like I have the cat. Would you sit on command?”

  Layla bristled with anger. “Come find out.”

  The commander laughed. “Let’s make sure you’re worth my time.”

  Layla rolled her shoulders. Her body would ache later, but if she didn’t give it everything she had, she’d be dead and last time she checked the dead didn’t much care about such things. Better to be alive and ache. She cracked her knuckles as the blood elf put his fists up in a sort of boxing stance as he stalked toward her.

  She avoided the first hit and the commander’s fist smashed through the wall of the hut behind her. Layla kicked out at his stomach, ducking under his stuck arm and slamming her elbow into his groin before rolling past him, back to her feet. She kicked out at the back of his knee, forcing him down onto one, before he pulled his arm free. She saw the blow coming, and moved to block it in time, but the power of it lifted her off her feet and dumped her ten feet back.

  The commander looked pained as he got back to his feet, and picked up his weapon from where it lay.

  Layla ran forward, scooped
up one of the swords that she was unable to manipulate, and moved toward the blood elf commander, who laughed as he raised the maul to strike. Layla dodged at the last second, avoiding the blow, and drove the blade up toward her adversary’s stomach, but he moved quicker than she’d anticipated. The blade only sliced through his side before he backhanded her, sending her spinning. She got to her feet just in time to duck a second swing of the maul.

  She changed her arm into a whip as she rolled across the stone covered ground and snapped it up toward the commander, cutting him across his face, which bled profusely. She turned her arm into a blade and sliced the hand holding the maul. The commander roared with rage, dropped his weapon, and threw a punch at Layla, who was already circling around him. He twisted, trying to keep her in sight. She grabbed the sword on the floor with her metal arm, then lengthened it, turning it into a lance, and pierced the commander’s chest.

  He grabbed the blade and tried to pull it free from his body. Layla let go, stepped toward him, and transformed her arm into a battering ram that smashed into the hilt of the sword, driving it through his chest and out his back. He dropped to his knees, and Layla picked up the maul.

  “Shouldn’t have thought you weak,” the commander said.

  Layla said nothing as she drove the spiked end of the maul into the blood elf’s skull, releasing the shaft of the weapon and watching as the momentum of the blow knocked him to the ground.

  Layla turned to the feline. “You really want to do this?”

  The saber-tooth panther growled.

  “Can you understand me?” Layla asked in the language of the shadow elves.

  Another growl.

  “How about now?” Layla repeated in English.

  The panther stopped and turned her head to one side, a display that Layla thought was more dog-like than cat.

  “You understand this language, don’t you?” Layla asked. “Paw the ground once for yes.”

  The massive animal pawed the ground.

  “How is that possible? How can you learn a language?”

  The panther turned to look at the temple.

  “They put you in there?”

  The cat nodded.

  She turned toward a commotion behind her to see Chloe, Tarron, and Zamek charge around the corner of a hut, stopping when they saw the body of the commander.

  “Layla, step away,” Zamek said.

  The panther growled, low and menacing.

  “No, it’s fine,” Layla said to the panther, who sat back on her hind legs. She turned to her friends, unsurprised that they’d found her. “This cat understands me. The blood elves forced her to go in the temple.” The panther pawed the ground, looking at Layla for acknowledgement.

  “It really understands you?” Chloe asked.

  The panther pawed the ground again, and Chloe’s expression turned from surprise to outright shock.

  “It was where languages could be learned,” Zamek said, looking over at the temple.

  “How did the searching the library go?” Layla asked.

  Zamek’s expression said that it was not an overwhelming success. “We haven’t been there, yet,” he said. “We decided to come grab you first while the others scouted for blood elf patrols.” He pointed at the temple. “There’s a machine in there that used runes on a person to transport information into their minds. I’ve never heard of it being used on a cat.”

  “She understands English,” Layla said.

  Tarron walked up to the panther, stopping a foot away and crouching down. “You’re an interesting creature. Why are you wearing a collar?”

  “It shocks her.” Layla looked at the panther. “Can we try to remove it?”

  “She’s a juvenile,” Zamek said as the panther lay down.

  “I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “That cat is massive. You’re telling me she’ll get bigger?”

  “No,” Zamek said. “Saber-tooth panthers are fully grown in about six months. If you can find them early enough and train them, they’re loyal companions. But the level of intelligence this one has shown is beyond anything I’ve ever seen.”

  “They forced this one to eat the crystals that turned them into blood elves,” Layla said.

  “Shit,” Chloe whispered. “They tortured this poor animal.” She walked over to the panther, who showed no signs of aggression. “Can we get that collar off?”

  The panther pawed at the ground and rubbed its head against Chloe’s outstretched hand.

  “Working on it,” Zamek said, placing his hands around the panther’s massive neck. “This might hurt. And also, for future reference, I can’t believe we’re doing this to save an animal that might want to eat us.”

  “I don’t think she does,” Tarron said. “She’s young. I don’t think the programming they tried with her has stuck yet. The fact that she’s able to understand a human language is interesting.”

  Tarron walked off before anyone could stop him, and Zamek shouted in pain as he tried to remove the collar. “Damn thing shocked me,” he said, before sucking his finger.

  “Need a hand?” Chloe asked, removing a dagger from her belt. She held the panther’s gaze. “Do not eat me.”

  The panther made a huffing noise as if the very idea was offensive.

  Layla walked around to the opposite side of the panther. “On three,” she said. “We both grab the collar, lift it, and Chloe cuts it.”

  Zamek and Layla positioned their hands just above the collar. “Three,” Layla said, and grabbed hold of the collar, lifting it as the electricity ran through her body. Zamek grabbed hold of his end of the collar, and Chloe sliced through it with her blade.

  “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Layla said, hopping from one foot to the other. “That’s like holding one of those fences used to keep cows in their field.”

  “An electric fence?” Chloe asked with a smile.

  “Screw you and your grinning, woman,” Layla shouted.

  The panther rubbed its massive head against Layla’s hand, causing her to jump.

  “You’ve made a friend,” Chloe said.

  “You’re free to go,” Layla told her. “Free. You can leave now.”

  The panther sat back, staring at Layla.

  “Free,” Layla repeated. “You can go.”

  The cat yawned, showing off its terrifying set of teeth. She licked Layla’s hand.

  “Congratulations,” Chloe said. “You just got the world’s most terrifying pet.”

  Layla shared a look with the predator who was licking her hand. “What the hell am I meant to do with you?”

  The cat moved her head so that Layla could scratch her behind the ears as Tarron came out of the temple. “That panther was put in a machine designed for humanoids. That’s what allowed them to manipulate her mind, to make her docile. Compared to the wild versions of her kind, anyway. It’s a miracle she isn’t in constant pain.”

  A horn blared in the distance.

  “We need to leave,” Layla said as Zamek began to search the blood elf commander’s corpse. “My mom and a lot of blood elves are up there.”

  “There’s a tunnel this way,” Chloe said.

  “Found it,” Zamek proclaimed, showing off a small key. “Let’s get moving.”

  Chloe, Tarron, Zamek, and Layla ran off toward the tunnel with the saber-tooth panther in tow. When they reached the mouth of the tunnel, Layla looked back at the panther. “Just try not to get yourself hurt, okay?”

  The panther pawed at the ground.

  They ran for twenty minutes before they found Sky, Persephone, and Caleb inside an old house, far enough away from any blood elves that might be patrolling the area.

  “What the bloody hell is that?” Sky asked when they arrived with the saber-tooth panther padding behind.

  “It’s a hippo,” Layla said. “What does it look like?”

  “It looks like something that once tried to eat me,” Sky said. “These things don’t give up once they decide you’re food.”

  Th
e cat sat beside Layla, looked up at Sky once, and then ignored her.

  “Acts like a normal cat,” Layla said. “Except a hundred times bigger. The size of the litter box alone is going to be staggering.”

  Zamek walked over to a pale-looking Persephone and unlocked the sorcerer’s band, tossing it aside as if even touching it might make him ill.

  “Thank you,” Persephone said, rubbing her wrist. “I feel better already.”

  “How did the scouting go?” Layla asked.

  “I managed to find a key to a sorcerer’s band,” Zamek said. “Thus ends the good parts of the search.”

  “My husband is in the dwarven library,” Persephone said.

  “We found some blood elf patrols and dealt with them,” Sky said. “But we need to get into the library, and we thought it better to wait for you all to come back.”

  Caleb shrugged. “Not in,” he corrected. “Beneath. Far, far beneath. Maybe a few miles straight down. Persephone was wearing something of his, so I can track him.”

  Persephone showed the black ring that adorned her thumb. “He gave it to me before he was taken. Caleb can use this to find him.” It was not a suggestion.

  “Of course,” Layla said. “Where’s Dralas?” The giant was conspicuous by his absence.

  “He went to search the perimeter,” Sky said. “Should be back soon. I don’t think he liked being inside a house made for dwarven heights.”

  “I’ll go look for him,” Tarron said. “I think we should be moving soon.”

  “Agreed,” Layla said. “I’ll come with you—hopefully we’ll find him quicker as a pair. When we return, we’ll need to get going. Zamek any idea how we get beneath the library?”

  “There are a series of tunnels that lead from close to the bridge to the library down below. They might have blood elves in them though, and that might well become a certainty the lower we get.”

  “We found an elf who was more willing to give up information,” Sky said. “It sounds like they’ve taken the prisoners to where the blood elves lived. The blood elf told us that there are still quite a few of them left in the realm.”