Warrior Everlasting (6 page)

But he couldn’t hate Iros, no matter how hard he tried. Iros was awesome. He'd played football with Trey when Trey had been hiding from angry, jealous Kylin. He’d taught them to fight, to work with their unicorns. He’d sworn to help them save their families, and he’d fought alongside them in every battle. The world needed more leaders like Havik and Iros.

“No. I think he will be happy to see you again and grateful that you’re alive.”

“Perhaps. And then he’ll yell at us and tell us how stupid we are.”
Ashra tossed her head, rolling her big eyes toward Torz. But her voice was affectionate.

“And then he will tell you how proud he is of you. And Iros will pat your neck and tell you if you ever do something like this again, he’ll clip your wings. All while smiling so you don’t whack him with your big head.” Scout grinned.

Torz snorted indignantly, and Ashra whipped her misty tail at Scout. She giggled and danced out of the way.

They walked for several more minutes before Scout pushed Ashra lightly, just enough to annoy the sleek unicorn. The teasing smile died on her face, though, as she started talking. “How do we get out? Once we save the souls, how do we open the gate?”

Ashra and Torz shared a long, silent glance. Maybe they were talking between themselves, but Trey and Scout had no way of knowing. Scout bit her lip and peered up at Trey.

Torz was the one to finally answer them.
“We don’t. The only one strong enough to open the gate is Havik.”

Trey swallowed hard. That didn’t sound promising at all. Since Havik and Iros had been forced to close the gate in the first place, it was doubtful they’d open it back up again — or even have the power and strength left to open it. When the unicorns had realized the soul stealers had started the Corruption — tearing apart good souls and piecing them back together to create evil souls — Iros hadn’t had a choice. He’d had to close the gate to save the world. With souls, the Taraxippus could come in to Paradesos. They were harder to kill, faster and smarter. Ashra, Torz, Scout, and Trey had killed some of them, but a unicorn with a rider was much, much more powerful than a unicorn without, and Trey and Scout were the only riders besides Iros.

And Kylin. Apparently she’d decided last minute to be a rider, too. Right before Havik had shut the gate, actually.

Unfortunately, Ashra and Scout had decided they needed to be on the inside before the gate closed. And Torz and Trey had willingly followed them.

Not the best thought-out plan.

“They will not leave us here. I would never have come if I didn’t know Havik well enough to believe he will do everything in his power to bring us home.”
Ashra raised her head with a stubborn flick of her ears.

Again, Scout caught Trey’s gaze. They might not be able to have an actual unspoken conversation, but he knew exactly what she was thinking by the worried crease in her forehead. Iros’s betrothed, Aella, was trapped here. Along with tens of thousands of souls. And Iros had closed the gate anyway. He had to — to save the world. A couple of his favorite unicorns and two people he barely knew didn’t make much difference in the grand scheme of things.

Somehow, Ashra, too, could read their thoughts.
“Havik will not leave us here.”
She snorted, the breath coming hard and fast through her soft muzzle.

“Hey.” Scout stopped, tugging lightly on Ashra’s wing until Ashra stopped too, refusing to look at her, her chest still heaving. Scout moved in front of her, pulling Ashra’s head until the mighty unicorn had no choice but to acknowledge her. “I know Havik won’t leave us here if he can help it. I know he’ll do everything in his power to get us out. But we have to do everything in our power to help ourselves. So let’s focus on that — we need a plan.” As Scout spoke, surrounded by the dim blue mist that forever hung in the air, Trey could see why they called her a soother. Ashra’s breathing calmed, and the angry tilt of her head lessened. Behind Trey, Torz, too, stopped fidgeting.

Ashra leaned her head against Scout’s, and Scout stroked her soft cheek. It was so unlike them — both sarcastic — and Ashra, clearly, didn’t love being touched at all. Where Trey kept his hand near Torz all the time, because it felt natural, reconnecting them, Ashra and Scout teased and played. But the bond was stronger than their animosity.

“We can’t form a plan until we see the layout.”
Ashra finally pulled back, brushing Scout forward gently with her wing.
“We will go, and we will observe, and we will rest. And then we will attack.”

Torz followed her, and they started walking again. The end of the canyon was within sight, only several hundred yards in front of them. Trey couldn’t help but feel an ominous foreboding at the thought of leaving their canyon and venturing into the open.

“We will have to find a way past the soul stealers, and break the cage that holds the souls. Iros says it is made of unicorn bones. It will be hard to get into,”
Torz said. A thread of nervous energy ran under his usual mildness.

“Okay then. Nice plan. Let’s get on it.” Scout clapped her hands once like a coach calling the end to a huddle, and Trey smiled. She jogged ahead to catch Ashra but Trey hung back, watching. She fit so well with the unicorns — it was like she’d been born to ride with them.

And she was as majestic and beautiful as they were. Her black cloak swirled behind her as she walked silently across the grass-carpeted valley floor. She’d tied the long, honey-brown waves he loved so much back into a braid, although silky strands had escaped to curl against her cheek. And those sea-foam green eyes nearly stopped his heart every time she looked at him. Somehow, he had to convince her that he wouldn’t hurt her again. That he was safe. In a world where nothing seemed safe, he was.

He had no idea how to do that.

He was so lost trying to figure that out, staring at the ground in front of him, that he ran into the back of Torz and knocked himself over. “What the snowball?”

Scout glanced back at him for only a second before she turned her attention forward, but she backed up to help him to his feet. “Trey, look.”

Trey had known something bad waited for them on the other side of the canyon. Through the hazy blue mist, a black castle rose, all turrets and hard, terrifying angles. The roof disappeared into the darkness. Light blazed from the many windows, light that was obliterated every few seconds by the hunched, decrepit form of a soul stealer. There were hundreds. Thousands. Even after all the soul stealers they’d killed in that last, desperate battle, there were still countless numbers inside that castle.

“Ashra was right. They must stay there because they’re attracted to the souls,” Scout breathed, her hand covering her mouth in horror so her words sounded muffled.

Ashra snorted.
“Of course I was right. I seriously wonder when you will stop doubting me.”

Scout didn’t even acknowledge Ashra’s comment, which told Trey how truly upset she really was. Getting past the soul stealers to the cage looked more impossible the longer they stood there.

“We’ll make camp here for the night. First thing in the morning, we will attack,”
Torz said. He turned his back on the monstrosity before them, his horn lighting as he approached the river to drink.
“Try not to let it upset you. I am sure that was his plan when he designed it.”

Images of a monster Trey had never seen gleefully designing a castle fit only for horror movies flashed across Trey’s mind.
Well that’s not odd at all.

Scout, too, turned her back on the horrifying creation, although Ashra stayed where she was, horn glowing fire-hot red and angry. Blood lust practically vibrated from her as her razor-sharp hooves clawed at the ground.

“Not now, Ashra.” Scout’s voice was quiet in the falling darkness, and Trey felt the tension ease from his shoulders as Ashra’s head dropped in agreement. “Soon, but not now.”

Chapter Seven

With one last glance over her shoulder at her unicorn, Scout joined Torz at the water. “Why is it that the mighty unicorns can make us magic scepters and cloaks that look like they’re from the dark ages, but they can’t make us food that won’t kill us?”

Torz snorted, raising his head indignantly. Scout snickered as he shook his head, splashing her with droplets the size of tears. Ashra blew out a long-suffering breath as she passed Trey.
“She’s a pain in the tail. You realize this?”

Trey shrugged. “It seems like a legitimate question to me.” He didn’t even see Ashra’s big wing until it was knocking him backward for the second time in ten minutes. He glowered at her as her amused whicker bounced off the canyon walls.

“We create magic from magic. Your cloak is magic. The scepter is magic. Food is not magic,”
Torz finally answered.

“I don’t know. It feels pretty magic to me.”

Scout grinned up at him from where she was perched on the riverbank. “That’s because eating is your favorite thing in the world to do.”

“Second favorite thing in the world,” he answered quickly as his eyes dipped on their own accord to her mouth. She swallowed twice as a blush rose to her cheeks. But it was a momentary distraction as his eyes moved back to the canyon opening and the nightmarish castle beyond. The nightmares would come easily tonight.

“Maybe third favorite?” She rose to her feet dusting her hands off on her tattered, dirty jeans. She leaped gracefully over the river and landed like a ballerina on the other side, before she pulled a large blue fruit from a tree’s low branch.

Trey raised an eyebrow as she hefted the fruit in her hand then paused to smack it on a rock. It didn’t split.

“Kinda looks like a football, huh?” With a wicked gleam in her eye, she raised her arm and hucked it across the river.

Trey barely had time to get his hands up before it barreled into his chest.

Grinning, despite the fear behind him, he shook his head. “You never forgot how to throw a football, apparently.”

“It’s like riding a bike.”

From across the river she winked, so much like his Scout that it nearly stopped his heart. And then she held her hands out, motioning with her fingers.

“Gimme.”

He cocked his arm and threw it back, a little over her head, and she leaped easily, like some bright, graceful, but totally non-lethal jaguar, snatching it out of the air. They tossed it back and forth, throwing wild passes every so often to make the other one pay for the last wild pass, and he realized belatedly that she’d done it on purpose.

She was distracting him. He could think of only one other way that would have worked as well, and since she was still holding off on being his girlfriend, he didn’t see that one happening. If this whole war between good and evil hadn’t landed on their doorstep, Trey would probably be playing in the state championship right now. Or yesterday. Next week. He had no idea what day it was. Only that he’d worked so hard for something that didn’t even matter now. Even so, he loved football. More than anything, except his family.

And Scout.

She giggled as she threw it way over his head, and Ashra blasted it backward with a shot of hot air. She sounded so young. So like the Scout he remembered, before hate and pain and anger had made her hard. But his Scout was still there. He could see her in the smile Scout shot him…

“Hey Scout.” He tried to make his shoulders bigger, like his dad’s. Hoping she’d notice that he was growing again. She barely looked at him from where she sat, dejected, on the curb, staring out at the field below them where a bunch of boys were playing football. Where he and his brothers had been playing until he’d seen her sitting there. He’d left, and they’d followed, of course. Heaven forbid he ever get to talk to her without them nearly standing on top of them both.

“Hi, Trey.”

“What’s wrong?” Liam asked, pushing past Trey to squat next to her.

Liam was nine. Tate was ten. Trey was twelve. Shouldn’t he be the one she smiled at just now, not his little brother?

“They won’t let me play.”

Trey raised an eyebrow, looking from her to the field and back again. “You want to play football?”

She nodded and sniffled.

“But you’re a girl. And you’re little,” Tate pointed out somewhat unhelpfully.

“So?” Scout raised her chin. Her beautiful eyes narrowed.

Trey’s dad had told him he was too young to think about girls. But Trey didn’t think about girls. He thought about
one
girl. Scout. And he had loved her since he was eight years old.

“Come on. We’ll play with you. Right guys?” Trey asked, glaring both his brothers into submission.

“Yep. Let’s go, Scouty.” Liam pulled her to her feet and they raced down the road to Trey’s house.

“Do you even know how to throw a football?” Tate asked, snatching the ball from Trey’s hands and throwing it to Scout. It smacked her hands and fell to the ground.

“Not yet. I will.” Scout picked up the ball and struggled to wrap her small hand around it. Even though she was three years older than Tate, she was smaller than them all.

From down the road, a tiny Lil Bit emerged, as if sensing her sister’s presence, and came to watch, dark eyes wide, following Scout’s every move.

“Scout, honey, you’re holding the ball wrong. That’s why it flies through the sky like a wounded duck.” Brandon, Trey’s dad, left the garage where he’d been changing the oil, wiping his hands on a rag that he tucked in the back pocket of his jeans.

“My dad… hasn’t had time to show me. He will though. He’s just busy.” Scout dug her toe in the grass and blushed furiously, her eyes dropped in shame.

“Well, until he has time, how about I show you? I taught these three terrors everything they know. It’ll be a piece of cake for a bright girl like you.”

Scout’s face lit up, and she grinned like he’d just given her a medal. For the next several hours, and then the next several days, Scout spent every spare minute with a football in her hand, memorizing Brandon’s instructions, muttering them under her breath until her movements were second nature.