But that’s not enough for Luc. He hovers in the air atop his enormous stingray, and an army of foot tirones comes to the wall, led by a herd of nightbeast bison.
They have one purpose. At Luc’s cry, the bison outside charge the gate of Castle Ithebego. The first wave tumbles into the moat in mindless obedience, but the ones behind trample right over their downed bison brothers until they’ve created a bridge of flesh.
They slam their heads into the gate. Again and again and ag—
Crack.
The children scream from inside.
“Get up on the walls!” I holler. “Retreat to the inner courtyard!”
Miraculously, they obey. Every Adelphoi passes the command along until everyone is running for one of the two locations. I shoot a stone at a tiro running after the kids. It hits the back of his head, and he falls. The children make it through the courtyard door and slam it behind them.
The bison keep pounding on the gate, but Luc spreads out his hands, and new nightbeasts form behind the bison herd.
Some of the light creatures have trapped—but not killed—Luc’s tirones. They can keep that up for only so long. It’s evident that any creature made from light won’t destroy a human. It will take down a nightbeast, but that’s where the killing stops.
Interesting that there are rules and limitations written into their lifeblood.
The tirones don’t put up too much of a fight once their steeds are down. They may have been noxiors at one point, but I imagine most people still have a problem with killing young children. They relied on their nightbeasts.
And more are coming.
The gate splinters to pieces. Bison charge in, followed by the flood of leopards, gorillas, all other destructive beasts Luc thought up. They’ll be through the second gate in mere moments. We’re out of light beasts. We’re out of weapons.
Then I hear a thunderous call from the other side—a battle cry of a hundred voices as people charge through the veil behind the nightbeasts and Luc’s tirones.
Citizens of Tenebra. Each one armed with weapons from the coliseum. Scattered among them are noxiors. But at their head is a woman with a little girl in her arms, riding a rhinoceros with swirling gold fog puffing from its nostrils.
Helene. And in her arms sits Heidi. I piece it together instantly. When Heidi fell asleep in House Adelphoi she woke up in her mama’s arms. That is her home, and her heart sent her there. They finally found one another.
Helene didn’t come to Castle Ithebego when I sent her with the rhino. Instead, she took it to the coliseum. She rescued her family and didn’t stop there. She brought the other parents.
And now they’re here to fight for their children.
Everything is different with the parents in the fray. They know how to fight. They were all noxiors once. Crixus trained them to survive the Nightmare, and now they’re using their skills to destroy it.
They charge into the castle, hacking at the pterodactyls and bison as they go. The nightbeasts are feral and give a good fight, leaping for throats, clawing at exposed stomachs. But the parents aren’t to be stopped. They hack and stab and tackle. Their efforts grow more fierce when the children begin to cry out for their parents.
Luc’s tirones flee, and the fighting parents give chase. The children continue to cheer them on and come out from their hiding spots.
I don’t cheer.
A hand slips into mine as I watch the tirones retreat through the broken gate.
“This isn’t over,” Stranna says, speaking my thoughts.
I tighten my fingers around her hand. “I know.” If that was Level 1 and we maxed out our arsenal . . .
Luc raises his hands in the air. Most of his retreating tirones stop to watch. The parents in the courtyard and on the walls around us still.
Mist pours from Luc’s hands, forming in the air as it falls to the ground. Chimera, griffin, three-headed dogs, Minotaurs, basilisks . . . all the Roman mythical creatures rise up from the ground by the hundreds, armed and sniffing for blood.
How does Luc have the energy and emotions to keep creating so much?
His tirones turn back toward Castle Ithebego, victorious smugness on their faces, energy renewed. They know they’ll win now. But Luc isn’t done.
Black shrubbery bursts from the ground sending vines flying toward Castle Ithebego. The vines pull at the stones and the forest we created, tearing out chunks like a many-toothed monster. One turret wobbles. Trees crack and tumble, splintered into firewood.
A storm swirls overhead with shards of black lightning growing like inverted icebergs. Preparing to fall upon us. Waves of tar seep up from the ground, rolling through the cracks and crevices of our keep, filling the courtyard with the sticky Tunnel darkness that we all fought so hard to escape when first infected.
We brace ourselves. Not for the fight, but for the death that is coming. That is here.
The nightbeasts charge. The tirones charge.
I take aim with my slingshot, but not at the army. At Luc. He’s far away, but I release stone after stone. They all fall short.
Stranna runs for the ballista and loads one last broken spear from the ground. She aims at Luc’s stingray, but he sees it before she releases, and the stingray swoops beneath the bolt. That movement brings him a few yards closer, so I shoot again. I have five stones left in my pocket.
C’mon, I tell myself. He’s just another Goliath.
Tar suffocates Stranna’s fountain. The left turret of Castle Ithebego crumbles and Stranna screams, almost tumbling with it. Our forest is flattened.
I know you win in the end, God, but . . . can’t we skip the battle?
One of my stones hits Luc’s wrist. I would have preferred his forehead, but I’ll take any small win at this point. He shakes off the pain, then picks up the creative stream once again. It’s another chimera, and this one breathes fire. It bounds toward the corner of Castle Ithebego, its sights on Stranna who has only just regained her footing.
