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The guard rolled her eyes. She raised one hand and Sephone froze, quite literally, her mouth stuck open, her eyes panicked and wide. “You both have larger problems on your hands than destroying one whose hands hold so many threads, Queen Regent. Look to the horizon. They are coming.”
The words had barely time to penetrate when the guard fell to her knees, toppling over beside Sephone, lifeless once more.
“Well, that was...” I began.
Thunder boomed out.
Thunder? Here, beneath the earth? I looked across the red-hued vista at the volcanic mountain beside the palace, but the structure was unchanged. The sound had not emanated from there.
The thunderous sound rang out once more, assaulting my senses and sending the rampart walls trembling with powerful vibrations.
Draven was staring into the distance with a grim expression.
My gaze followed his, sweeping across the palace walls, over the rocky landscape and upwards.
Emerging one by one with each thunderous boom were a flock of riders on flying beasts. With sinewy frames covered in leathery skin, the creatures flew through the makeshift sky towards the palace, their wings undulating with a hypnotic rhythm. Long, slender talons extended from their wingtips, honed to lethal points. Their limbs, long and muscular, reflected a raw power that spoke of formidable strength and speed.
Mounted upon them were riders clad in armor as black as night. Spiked pauldrons rose like jagged peaks from their shoulders. Ghostly mists swirled around them, trailing behind like remnants of forgotten sorcery. The riders' helmets were crafted in the image of death itself. The metal formed skeletal features, where hollow eye sockets housed dark orbs that burned with an unholy glow.
A movement from further down the ramparts caught my eye.
The figure of a girl running along the fortifications.
The dark metal rimming her eyes gleamed in the light.
“Rychel,” I shouted.
The figure paused, then turned. I watched as Rychel’s eyes widened as she took us in–Draven and Sephone and myself, with Crescent and Nightclaw behind us.
“What are you doing?” Draven was already moving towards the steps. “Get back here, Rychel. It’s not safe.”
But Rychel darted backwards quickly. “You don’t understand,” she called, over the thunderous boom. “They’re here for me.” Resignation filled her face.
I watched as Draven’s expression turned to horror.
“What is she talking about?” I stepped up beside him, my fury temporarily paused. Behind me, Sephone was still frozen from the effects of whatever the strange visitor had done to her.
“She’s let the wards down. The palace is unprotected. Noctasia, too.”
“Why?” I demanded. “Why would she do that?”
“She summoned them here. She believes they won’t harm us.” Draven’s face said he didn’t share the same belief. “She thinks they can help the children.”
The children? I didn’t understand.
He moved then, racing forward like an arrow shot from a bow, propelled with desperate urgency.
“No,” Rychel screamed as he ran towards her. “Stay back! You don't understand, Kairos.”
“I do,” I heard him shout. “Believe me, I want the same thing you do. But not like this. Don't do this, Rychel. Don't give it to them. We’ll find another way.”
“There is no other way! You know I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard. But I’m not enough. I don’t know enough.”
Only then did I belatedly see what she held in one hand.
The grail.
She raised it high over her head as her brother sped down the battlement, then stepped towards the edge of the wall.
