Chapter Twenty-Four

Kaitlyn

Wyn and Deyro led me through the tunnel without further incident. Thankfully. That little display of frat boy behavior back in the tunnels was disturbing. I'd lost count of how many of those things they'd killed but there were a lot of them. And it had all been a game to them.

The idea of killing so efficiently and so ruthlessly – and having fun while you were doing it – was something I absolutely couldn't relate to. But then, I remind myself that I'm not one of them. I'm not a Dragonborn Ranger and I'm not tasked with fighting creatures like those walking nightmares in the tunnels day in and day out.

It shouldn't be all that surprising they've developed some sense of dark gallows humor about the whole thing. Maybe in their place, I would have too.

All that matters to me though, is that we've made it to the end of the tunnel. We're at the door and are about to complete the final leg of this mission. At least, I hope we are. I have no idea what's beyond the door, but I'm trying to remain hopeful and optimistic that we can do what we came to do, get back to LA, seal the doors behind us, and all live happily ever after.

“According to the map,” Deyro says. “The chamber where they keep the Deathstone is just down the hall. We're close.”

“And if luck holds, we're going to be able to get there without any problems,” Wyn says.

Deyro looks at him, raising an eyebrow. “When has our luck ever held.”

He shrugs. “There is that.”

I feel a queasiness in my stomach as a dark, greasy feeling washes over me. My stomach churns and I taste bile in the back of my throat. I fall to my knees, clutching my stomach and do everything I can to keep from throwing up. The feeling is so dark and so malevolent, I know it can mean only one thing.

“Are you okay?” Deyro asks me.

I look up at him, tears standing in my eyes. “He's here,” I say. “He's waiting for us.”

Deyro turns to Wyn and smirks. “Like I said, like our luck ever holds.”

Wyn sighs and shrugs. “Well, I guess we should get on with it then.”

“Please, don't let him take me,” I croak. “Please, kill me first. Kill be before he takes me.”

Wyn shakes his head. “That's not going to happen,” he says. “Just stay –”

“Behind you, I know,” I say. “Don't worry, I'm not planning on charging in there ahead of you.”

The two Rangers look at each other and grin. They're enjoying this. With everything at stake – with our very lives at stake – they're having fun.

“There's probably going to be a few of the Shadow Clan dragons out there” Deyro says.

Wyn shrugs. “If you're scared, stay in here.”

“I was only telling you to give you that option.”

“Well, I'm good,” Wyn says. “I'm locked and loaded.”

Deyro nods, his grin only widening. “Then, let's dance.”

Wyn turns to me. “Stay here, in the tunnel until I call for you,” he says. “And keep your head down.”

My stomach is roiling and all I can do is nod. Deyro grasps the door handle and pulls it open, its hinges squealing and screeching. As they walk out into the hall beyond the door, I crawl to the doorway and peek my head out. I see both men standing before a line of those creatures – and a dozen men behind them in black armor, swords in their hands.

Deyro and Wyn exchange a look and a nod – as if they had just communicated a plan with one another without even using words. When the creatures rush at them with a guttural cry, I watch as both Wyn and Deyro crouch down, open their mouths wide, and unleash a torrent of fire. The two blasts of flame consume the creatures and set the armored men behind them ablaze. The sound of agonized screaming fills the air around me and I clap my hands over my ears to shut out the horrible sound.

I watch them until the last of the flaming bodies fall to the floor and lay still. The pungent odor of charred flesh saturates the air, making me gag. I can't believe what I just saw. I mean, I am only just now wrapping my head around the idea that dragons are real – but adding the whole fire-breathing element just adds another layer I don't feel entirely equipped to handle at the moment.

And then Wyn is standing before me. He reaches down and helps me to my feet, a look of concern upon his face.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Honestly?” I reply. “I really don't know right now. This is all just so – surreal. I'm waiting to wake up and find it's the most vivid, terrible dream I've ever had.”

His smile is small. “It's no dream.”

“Let's finish this,” Deyro says.

Wyn gives me a nod. “Let's finish this.”

I take a deep, steadying breath. “Okay. Let's finish it.”

I follow them down the hall, past the still smoldering bodies, and stand behind them when we reach an ornately carved steel door. The ominous, greasy feeling in me grows stronger and my stomach begins to cramp up. I clutch my belly and fight off the waves of nausea.

Nyro's presence in my mind is growing stronger, his voice louder, the feel of him even more intense than before. Wyn puts a steadying hand on my shoulder and gives it an encouraging squeeze. The look on his face though, is grim and I can see that something's wrong.

“What is it?” I ask, a tide of fear rising up within me.

“Your aura,” he says. “It's changed. It's almost completely black now.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“It means that Nyro is almost ready to perform the Rites,” Deyro says. “It means that his spawn in you is nearing the zenith of its power.”

I feel shell-shocked as Deyro pushes open the two doors and we all step inside. The chamber is dimly lit, the only illumination coming from a couple of torches in sconces on the wall, the glowing and pulsing of the Dragon Door on the far wall, and a glowing aura around a pedestal in the center of the room. And on the pedestal sits a large, round stone. It almost looks like a bowling ball to me. But a light inside of it glows dimly, the feel emanating from it one of despair and rage. It seems to amplify all of the negative feelings inside of me.

“The Deathstone,” I whisper.

Stepping out from behind a pillar is Nyro – his white hair standing out in stark contrast to the darkness all around the room. He regards us casually, as if we're old friends dropping by for a visit.

“I have to say,” he begins, “using the magic in the Riverlands to mimic the energy of my seed – it was creative. I'll give you that.”

“And yet, here you are anyway,” Deyro says.

“Well, of course,” he replies. “I said it was creative. I didn't say that I'm an idiot. Like I didn't know it was just a mimic. I figured that out two seconds after I set foot in Chondelai.”

Wyn shrugs. “Well, we tried.”

“That you did,” he says. “And you get an A for effort.”

“That's awfully sweet of you,” Deyro says.

“I'm in a generous mood,” Nyro replies. “You're returning my vessel to me at just the right time.”

“Too bad you'll never get your hands on her,” Wyn says.

Nyro rolls his eyes and sighs. “Are we really going to do this again?”

“Looks like it.”

Nyro looks at me, his eyes probing me. He looks me up and down, a fanatical light in his eyes as he licks his lips. I've never felt dirtier before in my life. Deyro and Wyn spread out – one on Nyro's left and the other on his right. Their swords are up and at the ready, but I can see the tightness on the faces of both of them. They know this fight won't be as easy as dispatching those Gahan things.

“This doesn't have to be like this. It would all be so much easier if you both just let me have my way,” Nyro says. “And if you do, I will reward you handsomely. I'll even make you my most trusted lieutenants. What do you say?”

Deyro's wrist flashes and I barely even see the small knife hurtling toward Nyro. The white-haired man turns and holds his hand up a split second before the dagger would have buried itself in his throat. The blade stops, mid-air, and hangs there a moment. Slowly, it turns around and with a flick of his wrist, he sends it hurtling back toward Deyro. The Ranger blocks it with his sword just in time. The ringing of steel on steel echoes around the chamber and then suddenly, as if that sound was the opening bell, all hell breaks loose.

Deyro and Wyn rush him from opposite sides, blades whirling. They both move with such an elegant grace about them, that it's entrancing to watch. Nyro holds up his hands, one palm pointed at each of them and like the dagger, they are stopped cold. They grunt and groan as they try to push against the unseen barrier, but they can't move. Nyro flicks his wrists and sends them flying backward. They crash against the walls of the chamber hard, knocking their breath out of them.

And then he turns his eyes to me, those glowing golden orbs taking me in from head to toe. As if in response to his gaze, or maybe just the proximity of its father, the seed within me starts to squirm and writhe.

“Soon, my child,” Nyro says, his eyes fixed on my belly. “We will be together soon.”

“I'll make you a deal, Kaitlyn,” Nyro says. “Come with me willingly, and I'll spare both of their lives.”

“Like hell,” I hear Wyn say a moment before a blue fireball catches Nyro in the side of the head, sending him sprawling to the side.

The two Rangers are on their feet, rushing toward the fallen wizard. Even though I'm terrified, I seize the moment and dart forward. Grabbing the Deathstone off its pedestal, I raise it up over my head. I hear Nyro's scream of outrage and turn to see him looking at me as he raises his hand. Then I see Wyn's blade flash, slicing clean through Nyro's arm.

The bloody arm falls to the ground, twitching, a pool of blood spreading out beneath it.

“Now, Kaitlyn.”

Wyn's voice is faint. Slow. It sounds like it's a million miles away. But the message is clear – finish off my duty. I let loose with a cry of triumph as with all of my strength, I slam the Deathstone against the rough stone floor of the chamber. The glass sphere hits and explodes with a sound like a cannon shot. The sound of the explosion echoes around the chamber, driving out all other sounds for a moment.

The shards of glass – thousands of them – are all over the floor of the chamber. I watch as the glow within the glass fades and then winks out altogether.

Nyro's outraged howling fills the chamber and when I look over at him, he's glaring at me, his eyes filled with hate. He uses his magic to throw the two Rangers off of him again – though I notice it's with substantially less force than before. He clutches the bloody stump of his arm to his chest, snarling at me.

Nyro closes his eyes and begins to say something in that same tongue he spoke when he impregnated me in the first place. I don't know what he's saying, but I know it's not going to be good. In fact, it's probably going to be downright terrible for all of us.

Everything moves in slow motion when I feel Wyn's hands on me. I look into his eyes and see that he's deeply rattled. He's scared. He pushes me forward and when I look at the Dragon Door, I see that it's closing. I hear his voice whispering in my ear, though I don't think he's talking to me. It sounds like some sort of incantation or something.

I feel Wyn give me a good, hard shove from behind and I go flying forward. I stumble as I turn my body around, craning my neck as I look behind me. And as I pass through the Dragon Door, the last things I see are Deyro sinking his blade into Nyro's neck and Wyn, down on a knee, blood pouring from several open wounds, smiling at me.

And when I land on the floor of the chamber in LA I quickly jump to my feet, my pulse racing and my breathing ragged. I take a step toward the Doorway – just as it blinks out of existence. I fall to my knees, my body racked with sobs, and fat tears rolling down my face.

Wyn is gone. He sacrificed himself to save the world. He sacrificed himself to get me home.