Lost Towers by Angelina J. Steffort

Author:Angelina J. Steffort [Steffort, Angelina J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MK
Published: 2021-07-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

Gordan was already halfway across the yard by the time Gandrett made it out of the barn, Lim and the mare trotting after her. She had freed the horses just in case. Who knew how fast the fire—especially if it was one fueled by the wish of Shygon worshippers—would spread.

The flames greeting her from the farmhouse were a deep orange against the night, setting the world aglow around her in the worst possible way. And by the house, just out of reach of the fire, two male figures were pinning someone down on the ground who looked a lot like the woman who had offered them refuge.

“Let her go!” Gandrett shouted against the crackling noise of the flames that were slowly devouring the house.

Gordan reached them before she did, his Fae feet so much faster, and raised his ax in silent threat as he pulled one of the assaulters back.

Gandrett was about to release a breath of relief, but the man easily broke free from the Fae’s grasp, something that no human was supposed to be able to do. The male growled and blocked the attack of a broadsword that the second man brought down on him.

With horror, Gandrett was reminded of the guard at Ackwood palace, who had developed superhuman strength—or simply lost the fear of pain as they had lost their own will to the Dragon King. Those men hadn’t refrained from attacking Nehelon even when they had known that, as a Fae, he was stronger. They hadn’t balked from his skill and the precision of his strikes.

These men were no different. They kept coming at Gordan, who whirled his ax above his head but was unable to land a hit on either of them. But at least, he was leading them away from Efimia, who was a shivering bundle on the ground, right out of reach of the flames’ searing heat, but not far away enough to be protected if a gust of wind would stir the fire.

“Get her out of here!” Gordan shouted between strikes and grunts as he kept fighting the two worshippers who Gandrett could now see more clearly as she got closer to Efimia. Two men in Lapidonian clothing, their build strong and their sword skills comparable to those of a Sivesian soldier.

Gandrett deliberated for a moment if she should come to his aid first but didn’t get a chance to make a decision, for from between the farmhouse and the barn, a group of more worshippers stepped forward, blocking her path to both her fighting friend and the woman on the ground.

They were chanting something in an ancient language that reminded Gandrett of the turquoise flames beneath Eedwood Castle, and her blood turned cold, the fighter in her awakening.

Five of them, of different sizes and builds, men and women, all had their focus pinned on Efimia as if she were a particularly juicy prize. She needed to stop them before they reached the woman.

Her magic flexed in her body, awakening alongside her fighter’s focus.

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