Since they were able to repel the blood-fueled spells that Ferelith had imbued in her men, they advanced with little problem. Bastien was pleased to find that the soldiers wearing the red and black of the usurper relied too heavily on magic and were poorly trained. Once they realized the magic no longer worked as promised, they were forced to resort to swords, knives, and hand-to-hand fighting, and they were simply no match for Bastien’s men. Seven long years of training had finally paid off.
Inside the palace, they formed up in the large hall at the dead center of the four-winged building. Kieran was with him, and they efficiently divided the men to sweep through each wing. The men coming through the gate would clear the city’s streets and other buildings.
“I’ll head to the throne room,” Bastien told his brother. It was only an educated guess, but it was the most opulent room within the stone and marble castle, and Bastien was banking on Ferelith’s vanity that she ruled from there.
He prayed to all five gods that Thalia would be there, too, and unharmed.
A low rumble of growls echoed through the halls, reaching Bastien and his men. He cursed. Coming down each hallway were dozens of soldiers wearing the blood-red eye symbol of Ferelith, and mixed among them, twice as many demons of varying kinds. They were grotesque to behold—misshapen bodies, jutting jaws, slimy skin, and claws and teeth honed to rip and maim. They’d clearly been summoned by Ferelith to serve as mindless killing machines.
Bastien and his men were severely outnumbered with nowhere to retreat.
The enemy soldiers stopped halfway down each hall, and the demons moved to the front. It was a smart plan… let the demons cut down as many of Bastien’s forces as possible and save the humans who had pledged allegiance to Ferelith.
“Steady,” Bastien muttered low as he and his men poised their swords, ready to fight. “Throw your magic, but be prepared for most to get through. This is where your training comes in.”
“Fuck these demons,” one of his men cursed, and the others answered with war cries that reverberated along the marble halls.
Bastien looked over at his brother, at the front of his group of men, ready to lay down his life. Kieran glanced over at him, and they shared a moment… perhaps a goodbye.
Kieran nodded as if to say, “I’ve got this, brother,” and Bastien nodded back.
He then turned and waited for the demons to charge.
Except… they didn’t.
Instead, they slowly turned to face Ferelith’s soldiers, and their growls intensified. Confusion abounded among the men, and they looked around at one another, unsure what to do.
And then… the demons leapt at the startled men and tore through them. Blood sprayed, limbs were torn, and throats were ripped out. Bodies fell left and right, and Bastien’s men watched, stunned at this turn of events.
It took no time to decimate Ferelith’s men, and when the last one had been killed, the demons turned en masse to face Bastien’s group.
Their swords raised again but lowered just as suddenly as every demon turned into wispy smoke that curled and floated around, obscuring the bodies littering the floor.
Despite there being no windows or breeze, the gray smog dissipated, and standing behind it was Amell. “Ferelith has Thalia in the throne room.”
The king of the Underworld had confirmed Bastien’s hunch, and he was thankful for the information to save time. “Let’s go,” he ordered Amell.
Amell shook his head, and damn if he didn’t look regretful. “I can’t. I’m not allowed to interfere.”
“But you commanded the demons to turn on Ferelith,” Bastien pointed out.
“And I’ll pay a price for it with Zora,” he replied.
“Then pay more of a price and help me save your daughter,” Bastien spat in irritation. “You have enough power to end it.”
“I do,” Amell said with a nod. “I could, and I’d happily pay any price. But Thalia doesn’t need me. She can end this on her own. She needs to end it on her own.”
“You’re sure?” Bastien demanded, for he had no time to squabble. “And you’re willing to bet her life on it?”
“I’m sure,” Amell replied. “She only has to trust in what she’s been given. She has to accept the shadows fully.”
Bastien had no clue what that meant, but he’d make sure Thalia understood once he found her. He looked to Kieran and ordered, “Sweep the palace. Avoid bloodshed if you can, but show no mercy to those who don’t deserve it.”
“Got it,” Kieran replied and issued his own orders to the men behind him.
Bastien pivoted, ready to race to the throne room, but Amell’s voice stopped him. “Commandant.”
Looking over his shoulder, Bastien cocked an eyebrow in question.
“I expect to be invited to the wedding.” Amell’s expression promised retribution if he was left out.
“You’ll get your damn invitation, Fae,” Bastien groused and then gritted his teeth at Amell’s amused laughter as he tore off toward the throne room.