Margaret Bonham - Lachlei

Lachlei recalled Rhyn’athel’s earlier embrace. Had she fooled herself into thinking that the warrior god could actually love her? Areyn had said the Athel’cen could not love the way mortals did and Ni’yah could not deny Rhyn had used her. Yet, the wolf-god thought there was more, much more, than Areyn had said.

If Rhyn’athel had only wanted to make her pregnant, he could have done so any time without her permission or love. Instead, Rhyn’athel had taken a mortal body—for her?

Not entirely for her. He had hoped to change the balance of power between himself and Areyn—to take back something that belonged to him. And now, Rhyn was dead.

But was he? Rhyn had told her the greater gods such as Ni’yah, Areyn, and he could not be destroyed. None of the Athel’cen could be destroyed because they were part of the Wyrd. And part of the Fyr .

Free me, Lochvaur ’s voice rasped in her head. Free me, and I can return Rhyn’athel …

Lachlei hesitated. Lochvaur could mindspeak when even Ni’yah could not . She remembered what Rhyn’athel had said about Lochvaur—how he had been a special type of Wyrd-blood. What are you? she asked Lochvaur.

I am Athel’cen .

Lachlei almost looked at Lochvaur, but forced herself to stare into Areyn’s eyes. Could it be true? Could Lochvaur have been the only Athel’cen who had not been Wyrd-born? Her mind whirled with the knowledge. Rhyn’athel had said Lochvaur had no mother, but she had not understood it until now. Lochvaur was more than a godling—but could he be enough?

“Lachlei?” Areyn asked. He moved closer to her, and she slid instinctively towards Lochvaur and Ni’yah.

“Areyn, I…” Lachlei said, hesitation creeping into her voice. She had one place left to look—the Wyrd, itself. She used her Sight, hoping it would give her a glimpse of the future.

“Lachlei, I can be anything you desire,” he said. He met her gaze. “You know that.”

A vision from the Wyrd flashed before her eyes. She forced herself to look where only Lochvaur had seen. She smiled. Of course .

Lachlei’s gaze narrowed on Areyn. “You’re a clever liar, Areyn,” she said grimly. “I won’t whelp any of your spawn. I am a Chi’lan warrior. I serve Rhyn’athel.”

Areyn’s face twisted in rage. “Then, you will die.”

“So be it.”

With a yell, Lachlei charged. Areyn brought his sword up to parry, but Lachlei spun around and slammed Fyren ’s blade into Ni’yah’s shackles and sliced through Lochvaur’s chains in two cuts.

“No!” Areyn bellowed.

Blinding pain ripped through her as she felt the full force of the god’s wrath. She could feel the organs within her burst and the burning coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. She collapsed to the ground, writhing. It would not be long before she entered Tarentor with the other Lochvaur dead.

Was this what Fialan felt when he died? she wondered. And yet she clung to life. She was certain she could not see, but Lachlei watched the battle unfold before her.

Lochvaur leapt up, eyes blazing. Gone were his wounds, and he now wore glowing armor. He drew a Sword of Power and plunged it into Areyn. At the same time, the wolf-god transformed into his Eleion shape. He swung his sword and it cut into Areyn, sharp and quick.

The death god bellowed in pain and rage. Lochvaur pulled back his sword and thrust into the ground, point first. The earth shook, and a gateway opened. A single glowing warrior astride a black dragon flew through the gateway and bore down on Areyn Sehduk. Lachlei’s gaze met Rhyn’athel’s, and for a moment he smiled at her before turning on Areyn.

Areyn recoiled, and his blade parried Teiwaz . Thunder shook the ground as Teiwaz cleaved through the death god’s blade and into his chest. Areyn writhed in terrible pain, and the screams from the god echoed across the plain. Then, they were gone in a flash of light.

Lachlei let the darkness take her and knew no more.

Areyn fled across the Wyrd as Rhyn’athel pursued him. The god of warriors brandished his sword as the black dragon flew into the Wyrd through the Fyr . They were now between the worlds where the Fyr and the Wyrd met. The violet flames of the Fyr licked all around them, but Rhyn’athel felt nothing, protected by Haegl’s magic. The flames’ roar was nearly deafening, and it swirled about him in a maelstrom of color and light.

This has to be hurting Areyn , Rhyn’athel shouted over the din.

Haegl grinned, showing all of his very sharp teeth. He fears you more that the pain of the Fyr. Too bad no dragons will bear him. He might have had allies if he had not tried to control us so readily.

Rhyn’athel could barely see Areyn’s form ahead of him. He would try to flee to Tarentor , but even there, there would be no hiding.

Areyn halted in dismay. He stood at the base of the World Tree and turned around. The World Tree was a huge, silver-barked ash. Its branches spread across the roof of the universe, itself. From it, the Web of Wyrd and the flames of the Fyr swirled about its branches and spread across the Nine Worlds.

The pain from the Fyr was intense. Areyn, however, would gladly suffer the pain if only to avoid Rhyn’athel’s rage. The agony that the Fyr wrought was inconsequential in comparison. Areyn knew what his brother could do. He fled towards Issa , not Tarentor , hoping perhaps to trick the warrior god.

You may fool Rhyn’athel, but not for long , came a hated voice. Areyn Sehduk halted and stared into the flames. A Chi’lan warrior emerged with his Sword of Power drawn.

Lochvaur? But how? Areyn began, but saw another Athel’cen emerge from the flames.

Areyn turned and fled as Lochvaur charged, swinging his Sword. Ni’yah, now in wolf form, leapt after the death god. Areyn turned and drew on his power. Dark flames from the Fyr wrapped around both. With a cry, the fire consumed Lochvaur. Areyn laughed. So, the godling sought to destroy him? Areyn Sehduk now turned his full fury on Ni’yah.

You, too, will die … Areyn thrust his dark Sword of Power into the wolf-god, pinning Ni’yah against the trunk of the World Tree. The wolf-god snapped and writhed as the sword twisted in his chest. Ni’yah changed into Eleion form and tried to pull the blade from his chest, but Areyn was too powerful.

A blast threw Areyn backwards and Lochvaur was there. Areyn blinked. The godling was more powerful than Areyn realized. He pulled the blade from Ni’yah’s chest, letting the wolf-god fall to his knees at the base of the World Tree.

Now, Areyn, Lochvaur said coldly. It is time we truly fought .

Fear held the death god as he saw that there was none in the godling’s eyes. Could Lochvaur destroy him?

A shriek and a rush of wings came overhead. Areyn looked up in time to see Rhyn’athel and the dragon bear down on him. Rhyn’athel swung Teiwaz , and it bit deep into Areyn. Areyn screamed and sent wave upon wave of fire at the warrior god. He hit the dragon square on, but the dragon did not halt his charge. Haegl’s teeth closed around Areyn’s form before disappearing into the flames.

Rhyn’athel bellowed and again thrust Teiwaz deep into Areyn’s chest, spearing the god against the World Tree. Blinding pain shook Areyn. He was trapped; he could not escape.

Yield!

No!

The pain became excruciating. Rhyn’athel twisted the blade. Areyn met the warrior god’s gaze as they stood inches apart. Rhyn’athel smiled coldly. Yield, Areyn, or you will find yourself in chains .