A Thunder of War (The Avalon Chronicles Book 3) Read online

  “They left me here to die,” Persephone said. “Elizabeth figured I was worthless while they have my husband and Nabu.”

  “Anyone else?” Zamek asked.

  “Lots of dead,” Sky said. “A few dozen. They’ve only had our people for a few days, but they murdered almost all of them.”

  “Your mother does not like me a whole lot,” Persephone told Layla.

  “I’m so sorry,” Layla said. “You need some rest, and we need to take that damned thing off.”

  “They’ve taken Hades and Nabu to the library,” Persephone said. “I’ll rest when they’re safe.”

  The library was a massive structure deep inside the mountain, where the dwarves kept all of the knowledge. Layla also knew that it was the scene of massive battles between the elves and dwarves, and last she’d heard it had been overrun by vast numbers of blood elves.

  “To the library then,” Sky said before moving off, her arm around Persephone’s shoulders.

  “I still have to play nice, I assume,” Caleb said.

  “Dad, just once, try to act like you aren’t waiting for a moment to escape. Please.”

  Caleb stared at his daughter for several seconds. “I will help your friends, Layla,” he said, turning to follow Sky and Persephone.

  “Chloe, can you go with them. Just to keep the peace?”

  Chloe smiled and hurried after Caleb, just as the sound of drums got everyone’s attention. It was soon followed by the sound of footsteps marching toward them on the ridge high above.

  “It’s a trap,” Layla said, motioning for Sky, Persephone, Chloe, and Caleb to run toward the shadow of the bridge. Zamek, Tarron, and Dralas followed suit.

  Layla watched as Chloe practically dragged her father away into the shadows of the ruined bridge and out of sight as hundreds of blood elves appeared on the ridge above them.

  Amongst all the faces of creatures who wished nothing more than their deaths, Layla made out one in particular. Her mother.

  Layla knew that if her team ran into the blood elf army they couldn’t win, couldn’t even hope to. She also knew that if the blood elves descended en masse, those in her group who were hidden from sight would quickly be found. She raised her hands in the air. “I surrender,” she bellowed. “I need to talk to you, Mom.”

  Her words were followed by a cacophony of laughter from those watching.

  8

  LAYLA CASSIDY

  The blood elf’s fist smashed into Layla’s mouth, knocking her to the ground. Layla spat blood onto the floor and waited for another punch, but a commanding voice stopped them.

  “Hello, Layla,” Elizabeth said as she entered the hut Layla had been dragged into. Her mother had descended the ridge alone, smirking the entire time, and taken Layla into custody, demanding to know whether she was alone. On her assurance that she was, the army of several hundred had split apart with the majority going off in one direction while Layla had been taken in another. They’d walked for several hours, until they reached a deserted row of buildings, and then Layla had been shown the blood elf hospitality she’d gotten to know so well since becoming an umbra.

  Elizabeth was roughly Layla’s size and had shoulder-length blonde hair, streaked with black. She wore dark-gray leather armor etched with runes. It looked similar to Layla’s, although the sharp silver knuckles that adorned the back of Elizabeth’s gloves were there purely to hurt. In Layla’s mind, that pretty much summed up Elizabeth.

  “Elizabeth,” Layla said, sitting back on the ground. “I’d like to say it’s nice to see you, but seeing how you cut off my arm, I’m more inclined to tell you to piss off.”

  “You don’t seem all that concerned about your own well-being,” Elizabeth said.

  “I’m not afraid of you, and I’ve killed enough blood elves not to be afraid of them either.”

  “Oh, these aren’t like the blood elves you fought before. These ones have been here for a long time, fighting amongst themselves. They’re more vicious than any you’ve faced, and I don’t think you’ll like being in their company for long. In fact, I think I’ll take you to Sanctuary and show you exactly what these blood elves are capable of.”

  “And then what? What happens next? You haven’t even put a sorcerer’s band on me, so is this just theater, or is there a plan? I escape and you hunt me down, is that it?”

  Elizabeth glared at Layla for several seconds. “I hate you.”

  “Feeling is mutual,” Layla assured her. “You’re running around in my mother’s body, desecrating her memory. And you cut off my arm. I think hate might actually be too tame.”

  “When I took your mother’s body and claimed it as my own, I did not realize the undertaking I would have to endure. Her . . . memories. When I sleep, I remember you. I remember her love for you. I felt remorse for hurting you. Do you understand?” Elizabeth punched a hole in the nearby wall. “Why did you allow yourself to be captured?”

  “I needed to see if there was truly any of my mother left in you. There isn’t. I know you cut my arm off, but I’d hoped that away from Abaddon, my mother might gain some measure of control, but she was never capable of gaining control. Despite you saying her memories are in your head, there’s none of her left.”

  “I want to kill you,” Elizabeth said. “But I’m not sure I want to feel the emotional hurt afterwards. It is a new sensation for me. So you’re going to come with us to Sanctuary, where you will watch us search for survivors. And then I will hand you over to Abaddon in Helheim, and she will execute you.”

  “How are we getting out of this realm?” Layla asked, genuinely curious.

  “There’s an old elven realm gate beneath the library,” Elizabeth said, smiling as she noticed the shock on Layla’s face. “Yes, the blood elves made the same expression when we found it. It was unexpected, I have to say. A way out of this realm for all those blood elves, and it sat undisturbed for millennia.”

  Layla watched Elizabeth for several seconds. “You hated my mother, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t. I actually admired her ability to do whatever she felt she needed to do. But that was before I removed your arm. Before I felt . . . sorry. You have a drenik in your head—how does it feel about you?”

  “Terhal and I have an arrangement. She comes out when I need her.”

  “And you don’t feel like this is a dangerous enough situation?” Elizabeth asked.

  “You won’t hurt me. That’s not because there’s any of my mother left in you, but because you’re terrified there might be just a few more of her memories to remember. A few more nights of human memories in your head.”

  “Do not mock me, girl,” Elizabeth snapped.

  “I’m not,” Layla said. “I wanted to kill you. More than anything in this world, I want to be able to do it, but I know I can’t. I can’t kill my own mother, even if you’re not really her. But it turns out I don’t need to. Your head is your own little torture. I think that might be enough.”

  “Abaddon will hurt you in very creative ways.”

  “Probably, but it’s a long time between now and then.” Layla knew her friends were out there, and that they’d find her. She wouldn’t be handed over to Abaddon, she was confident of that, and the fact that her mother’s memories were causing the drenik pain gave her some comfort, as though her mom was still fighting for her even from the grave.

  A blood elf entered the hut and whispered something to Elizabeth. She nodded and waved it away. “We’re good to go. We won’t be stopping again until we reach our destination. If you need water, or to use the facilities, I suggest you do so now.”

  “Water would be good.”

  Elizabeth barked an order in blood elf and they brought a canteen, dropping it on the floor by Layla’s feet.

  “Drink,” Elizabeth commanded. “You have sixty seconds. It’s not poisoned, by the way—it’s from a spring that goes past the dwarven library. It’s cleaner than anything you’ve ever had.”

  Layla took a taste of the w
ater. She was right, it was cool and refreshing. Elizabeth wouldn’t admit that hurting Layla had caused her emotional pain and then poison her, so she drank about half the canteen before handing it back to her captor.

  “I changed my mind. Keep it,” Elizabeth told her. “I don’t have time to be getting you more if you’re thirsty. We have plenty to go around.”

  “Thank you.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “Do not mistake my generosity for weakness. I might not like the idea of hurting you again, but my blood elves are less concerned about my emotional well-being.”

  The entire group set off the second Layla stepped out of the hut, canteen slung over her shoulder. Layla led the way with Elizabeth on one side and two blood elves on the other.

  “Twenty-six blood elves and one umbra is quite the number to guard little old me,” Layla said after an hour of walking, as the group stepped under an arch of stone and found a small, partially destroyed hut nearby. “Aren’t there better things they can be doing?”

  “No,” Elizabeth said.

  “Blood elves must have been thrilled to find something that showed who they were back when they were shadow elves,” Layla said. “And before you yell at me or something, I’m just genuinely curious. We both know neither of us is able to kill the other, so this is about as close to cordial as we can get.”

  Elizabeth continued to stare at Layla for several seconds. “They pray to it.”

  “Wait, what?” Layla asked, not sure that she heard her right.

  “They kneel beside the realm gate and pray to it. I do not know why. Abaddon doesn’t know why either, and none of the blood elves have been forthcoming with a reason. We found another elven realm gate in Siberia, but the blood elves were kept away from it until their blood was needed to activate it. They revered it. No amount of . . . questioning has discovered the reason.”

  “Seeing how we’re being so pleasant,” Layla said. “I have one question. If you don’t want to answer, just say so.”

  Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest, but nodded anyway.

  “The big blood elf commanders,” Layla said, motioning to the one huge blood elf at the rear of the pack. “Why are they so much bigger than the normal blood elves?”

  “They are the best of the blood elves,” Elizabeth said. “The strongest, the fastest, the most durable. They are not things that you want to fight. And they can only be found here, in Nidavellir. Gives you more of an incentive to behave yourself, doesn’t it?”

  “Lucky Nidavellir,” Layla said.

  “Move,” Elizabeth commanded.

  Layla did as she was told, and continued walking through the increasingly ruined dwarven kingdom, until the smell of smoke reached her. In the distance, fire burned on the walls of the mountain, and as she walked closer, the smell changed to that of burning flesh. Layla coughed and tried to spit the taste out of her mouth, making Elizabeth and the blood elves laugh, and forcing Layla to calm herself and not strike out at one of them.

  Elizabeth wafted her hands in front of her face, as if inhaling the aroma as deeply as possible. “Barbecued dwarf is a delicacy for the blood elves.”

  Layla fought down the urge to vomit and tried to ignore the smell, but the closer she got to the fires, the stronger the smell became.

  “Welcome to Sanctuary,” Elizabeth said, pointing to the partially destroyed, huge barricade that had once made up the entrance to the city. A number of blood elves sat outside it, and as Layla reached the remains of the barrier, she discovered that the blood elves were roasting what appeared to be the leg of a dwarf over a spit.

  Layla vomited onto the ground beside her, much to the entertainment of those with her.

  “This used to be a dwarven stronghold,” Elizabeth said with a smile, forcing Layla to look up at the entrance, at the dead dwarves nailed to the stone itself and left to rot. “It’s now a graveyard. Or fast food outlet, depends on your perspective.” Elizabeth forced Layla upright, and pointed her toward the barricade. “Inside, now.”

  “Why?” Layla asked. “You want to brag? I think you’ve made your point.”

  “Inside,” Elizabeth paused. “Do not make me ask a commander to carry you in there.”

  Layla spat onto the ground and walked through the entrance and into what had once been the last city of the dwarves in the realm of Nidavellir. The place was a ruin. Buildings had been burned down, bodies had been dragged into houses and left to rot. Some dwarves had been nailed to the buildings, mimicking those on the barricade. Layla had witnessed the barbaric brutality of the blood elves before, but to see such wholesale slaughter was something she’d never thought possible.

  “This is what happens to those who cross Avalon,” Elizabeth said.

  Layla’s mind went to Greenland, and she wondered just how horrific the attack there would have been if so many hadn’t managed to escape.

  “You brought me here to gloat?” Layla asked.

  “Not exactly,” Elizabeth said, pushing the younger woman forward. They walked through the city toward a massive gray stone building that loomed over everything around it. It had scorch marks all over it, but was otherwise still in good condition.

  “What is it?” Layla asked.

  “The buildings of the elders,” Elizabeth said. “It was where the plans were decided, and those in charge plotted against Avalon’s crusade.”

  Crusade? Layla thought. They’re all bloody zealots.

  “And I need to go in there because?”

  “Because we can’t,” Elizabeth said. “We believe that the dwarves here had information that would be helpful to our cause. The names of realm gate destinations, runes that could be beneficial. We can’t be certain, but it still needs to be checked. And frankly I don’t want to risk the lives of my people. I know I said I can’t kill you without the concern of emotional trouble, but if you happened to die in the service of Abaddon I’m sure I would be able to get over it. Besides, I don’t want to risk anyone on it. Our dwarven helper informed us that they would have put traps inside, and since I don’t want to have to try to disarm them, I’m going to have you do it.”

  Layla laughed. “I can’t read dwarven runes. I have no idea how to disarm a trap. Maybe your dwarven helper should come do this?”

  “He can’t,” Elizabeth said. “He’s busy helping us track down anyone who might have escaped this place.”

  Layla made a mental note about the dwarven helper. Zamek would want to have a word with him should they meet. Probably several words. “So, what exactly do you want me to do in there?”

  “There’s a room at the far end of the elder building. There are runes painted on it, and we want you to open it. And when I say want, I’m not giving you anything like a choice in the matter.”

  “Can I at least take a weapon with me?”

  Elizabeth laughed as if Layla had said the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “You have your umbra powers. Use them. The door we need you to open is black-and-silver metal.”

  Layla walked over a small bridge with a stream running under it, and up the stairs to the elder building. The front door was already open, and she walked inside, her footsteps echoing around the hall that sat beyond the entrance.

  Twenty-foot-high pillars sat every few feet around the hall, each one carved with hundreds of intricate depictions of battles. Doors ran along either side, and a set of circular stairs led to a balcony above, where Layla spotted more doors. Most of the doors were golden in color, and most had dwarven runes etched onto them, although, as Layla had told Elizabeth, she couldn’t read them, and therefore had no idea what they said or did.

  There were three black-and-silver doors, and Layla sighed as she walked over to the first of them. She saw no runes, although that didn’t mean much considering how well they could be hidden, and placed her hand against the door, turning it partly to liquid, and then darting aside to avoid any explosion. When none came, she pushed open the rest of the door and stepped into the large room.

 
Scrolls littered the floor, the table in the middle of the room, and the desk at the far end. They were stacked, head high, all around the room, and Layla wondered just how dangerous it would be to anyone who was in the room when some of the stacks fell over. She picked up one of the closest scrolls, but it was in dwarven and she couldn’t read it.

  “This is going to be a complete waste of time,” Layla said. She didn’t like the idea of being used as a miner’s canary. She backed out of the room, careful not to trip over the piles of paper, and walked over to the second of the three doors. This one had a red rune painted on it.

  Layla returned to the first room and picked up a blank piece of paper, scrunching it up into a ball. Going back to the hall, she stood behind one of the pillars and threw the paper at the rune-marked door. When nothing happened, she reached out with her power, feeling all around the door, trying to spot a weakness in its structure.

  Finding nothing obvious, she pushed out slightly. The door exploded without a sound. One minute it was whole, the next it had ripped apart and flung itself at high speed around the chamber. Layla dove to the ground as a large piece of metal tore through one of the stone columns just inches above her head. She remained still for a few seconds, before risking a roll away from the pillar.

  Getting to her feet, she walked over to the hole where the door had once been. Pieces of metal jutted out of the wall, and she carefully stepped through. She wondered how it was even possible, and how much power had been poured into the rune to give it the force that she’d witnessed.

  The interior of the room was spotless. A long table sat in the middle of the large chamber surrounded by chairs. She walked to the end of the room, and tried to work out exactly what the rune was meant to be hiding, or protecting. There was nothing there.

  “What the hell is the point of all this?” Layla asked, turning a full circle as she tried to figure out what the dwarves who had lived here were trying to protect. Layla moved one of the chairs and sat down. “Okay,” she said to herself. “Someone shut the door and drew a really powerful rune on it that would kill anyone trying to open it. Why? Who put the rune there?”