Twelve Years Ago

I didn't know how long I'd been unconscious, only that when coming too, my head was spinning, and cold, dirty water lapped at my skin, soaking my clothes and chilling my bones.

Blinking away the confusion, I discovered I was sprawled on my front, lying in a ditch. I pushed upright and swayed, huffing out pained breaths between gritted teeth. My right arm dangled uselessly by my side as I woozily shifted my weight to my good leg. My nerve endings screamed in agony as my mother's bloodline, her gift from her to us, knitted the splintered bones back together. Sagging, I shuddered in relief as the ferocious pain began to ebb away.

Blood dripped down my forehead and seeped onto my eyelashes. Using my forearm, I wiped the stickiness away before clambering up the steep incline back to the roadside. Moonlight glanced off the clouds of swirling smoke, a sinister light in the darkness.

My sister and mother—where were they?

A choking scream cut through the air.

Ferne!

I bolted, following the shrill screams of my sister.

The long stretch of country road was deserted but for the littering wreckage. The acrid stench of burnt rubber and scorched metal irritated my nostrils. Brutal skidmarks cut across the asphalt leading right to the crumpled limousine flipped upside down on the side of the road. My mother had gotten herself and Ferne out and was trying to pull our driver, Wes, free from the wreck. Ferne was still buckled into the car seat which leaned against the crushed side of the car. She wailed and shrieked, her chubby limbs flailing.

"Mom!" I cried, relief slightly calming my frantic heartbeat.

"Gray?!" My mother rose and staggered toward me. I fell into her, hugging her tight. Pulling away, she cupped my cheeks with shaky hands as she scanned my face. "You're okay? Thank gods..." She dropped her hands to my shoulders and squeezed, determination furrowing her brow. "Wes, he's hurt. I need your help!"

While my mother spun away, I rushed over to the limousine and kneeled by the shattered window. Carefully, I pulled Wes out. A twisted piece of metal had punctured his chest. He was a sickly, pale color, cold and clammy, shivering as he gulped down ragged breaths. We needed to stabilize Wes's wounds and stop the flow of blood loss until help arrived. A kit filled with modern-day medicine blended with magic would be in the trunk of the limousine.

My mother was already running behind the crumpled vehicle. I heard her frantic wail of "Oh no, no, no," before she spoke to me. "The trunk's been smashed apart. It's not there!" The clatter of her high heels cracked against the road as she dashed partway up the road where the wreckage was strewn, desperate to find the medical kit. It was perhaps the only time I'd ever heard my mother swear. She stamped a foot while barking out a string of curses when she found the kit, only to discover all the glass vials containing healing tonics and painkillers were shattered.

My mind was whirling with all the first aid lessons our physician had run my family through in preparation for an event like this. Granted, we'd mostly thought it would be when we were engaged in warfare with mutinous crime syndicates. "Mom!" I yelled, tearing off my jacket. "We can do this. Grab the gauze!"

I tore my jacket in half, right down the middle, and rolled up each part into a cylinder shape. My mother rushed back, dumping the medical kit by my feet. I handed her the bulky cylinders. "Butt these up against the metal. Be careful."

She nodded, doing as I asked. "Here, Wes," she whispered, "help keep this pressed in place." Wes's hands shook as he helped my mother keep the impaled metal stabilized while I snatched Ferne's blanket from her thrashing body.

Wes's angular eyes squeezed shut with pain. "T-Tabitha, y-you need to go." He hacked a cough. Droplets of blood sprayed across my mother's cheek and soaked into her hair.

She didn't stop to wipe the blood away, instead, she brushed her hand over his. "Wes Zhang, you fought by my husband's side against Jurgana."

"I-I think that night the l-lightning d-did more damage than us." He tried to grin, but it was more of a pained grimace.

"Maybe," my mother shot back with a startled laugh and a tremulous smile. She patted his hand, speaking softly. "Not only then, Wes, but countless times after, the pair of you looked out for the other. You think I'm going to come home to Varen without you?"

Using my dagger, I split Ferne's blanket in half, rolling the fabric up as I'd done to my jacket. With my mother's help, we arranged these two atop the first but in the opposite direction. I wrapped the gauze carefully around Wes's torso and over the bulky dressings, alternating the siding of each pass to ensure the twisted metal was secured.

My mother grabbed my arm and tugged to get my attention. "I need a rock, Gray."

Yes. Shit yes, she did.

Rising and spinning around, I ran, a whir of frantic speed, over to the side of the road and down the slope to the ditch, to race along the tree line of the eerie snarled forest, searching amongst the forest litter until I found what she needed—a good-sized rock, bigger than my hand. I knew what she was going to do. Why she needed the rock for it to work.

Scrabbling back up the slope to the roadside, my footfall smacked against the asphalt as I dashed for my mother, slamming to a halt with heaving breath and handing the dirty rock over.

She cradled the pitted stone in her hands as she kneeled beside Wes, her torn dress blood-splattered and greased with oil. Holding the rock in one palm, she raised her arm above her head and spread her other hand across Wes's chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, she concentrated hard.

My fingers fumbled as I unbuckled Ferne from her car seat. Her chubby cheeks were slick with tears and bright crimson from all the screaming and hollering. She flung herself at my chest, clinging to me like a limpet. "G-Gray," she warbled on a sob.

While I brushed sweat-damp hair from her forehead, her beautiful big eyes stared at me, swimming with tears and wide with terror. "Shhhh Ferne, I got you...I got you..." I murmured as I crouched down a safe distance away from my mother and shifted Ferne onto one hip. She sniffled, her tiny fingers digging into my shirt.

My mother was a quieter kind of other. She could steal pain and absorb it into her own body, but it would consume her if she didn't channel it out. She was the conduit, and with direction, the pain would flow through her into the rock.

Filaments of magic weaved around her body, illuminating her in a wonderous golden glow as her power coursed for the rock held in her hand. The rock vibrated, dancing between her clenched fingertips as she channeled Wes's pain into stone. While her chest rose and fell in quick shallow breaths, Wes's breathing eased and slowly calmed.

Has my mother called for help?

I didn't know if she had, so I dug around the back pocket of my jeans and fished out my cell phone. The screen was cracked—

And it abruptly occurred to me we were alone.

I frowned, rising and scanning the road. We always traveled with a convoy of guards. But the road was oddly deserted when I knew there should be two shiny black SUVs somewhere nearby.

Had they crashed into the forest? Other than our skid marks, there were no additional tire marks on the road.

And then, as if in answer—

I realized the wild sound rushing in my ears wasn't my panicked heartbeat at all.

Craning my neck back, I stared into the night sky, a mess of shadowed wind as if a tornado had formed, and was held above the earth with misty fingers.

A whistling sound as if something large and heavy was plummeting.—

Two SUVs broke through the mist and fell from the sky—

Metal slammed into asphalt right in front of me. The jarring noise of collision exploded in my ears—

The horrific impact boomed along the quake-thrust ground and rocked my balance.

Ferne shrieked, plastering her hands over her ears, as screaming, pain-ridden screaming, burst from the vehicles.

The guards inside the wrecked SUVs were a few of my older cousins and friends of mine. I ran for them, completely forgetting I had Ferne propped on my hip—

And skidded to a halt as something wet exploded inside the cars that cut the screaming short.

Scarlet soaked the cracked spider-webbed windshields. So much of it, I couldn't see inside.

Blood...it was blood and gore, sliding down the glass, drizzling down the crumpled doors to drip onto the asphalt.

I staggered back in disbelief, spinning back to my mother, just in time to see the rock held above her head shatter—

Turn to dust—

And blanket her in a dirty coating of gray.

My mother cried out, startled—

Then screamed in agony—

Her whole body spasmed and shook as Wes's pain slammed into her with nowhere else to go.

"Mom!" My heart hammered against my ribcage as I sprinted back and fell to my knees, unmindful of my bones cracking against unyielding stone. Wes spluttered and slumped, loosening a long whistling breath. Ferne ducked under my arm and clambered around to cling to my back like a monkey, as I cradled our mother across my lap. In my arms, my mother trembled. Her grimy, crimson-speckled face was white, lips bloodless.

"Mom...Oh my gods, Mom!"

Ferne started bawling.

My mother's lashes fluttered wide as she drew in a ragged breath. "Gray," her voice was hoarse as if she'd been screaming. "What happened?" She tried to sit up and pitched sideways. I helped right her balance and eased her back to lean against the buckled car, before tucking the dusty hair that had fallen across her eyes behind an ear. Ferne climbed down from my back and fell into her arms. "Hush baby, Mommy's here. I'm all right." She looked at me with apprehension.

I went to shake my head and open my mouth to explain. I had no idea who... But I fucking knew what.

When all the fine hair on my body prickled—

A shiver ran down my spine and the blood in my veins turned icy—

The winter night, velvety black and pricked with starlight, grew heavier, thicker with malevolent power. Its might skated across my chilled skin, promising insidious cruelty.

Something shifted and shimmered in the periphery of my vision—mist and shadow and wind descended from the sky in a long streak, then collected in an elongated ball, buzzing like a hive of bees. A dark blot formed in its center. A vaguely humanoid form—a Horned God. And I knew, it, this creature, had ended our guards and blasted the rock to smithereens in my mother's hand.

I turned to face the creature, and in the corner of my eye, I saw a child, a girl, perhaps a few years younger than myself, step around the car wreckage. I knew her, we all did—Mistress Lyressa.

But it was the echoing sound of footfall that had my head swiveling, my body following, back to the road, where our limousine's smoking wreckage was strewn across its width and length.

A figure approached, walking along the painted lines, heading directly for me.

A woman. A Horned God.

The soles of her black high heels clacked hollowly on the asphalt as she drew nearer with leisurely steps as if she had all the time in the world.

My breath caught tight in my throat.

She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.

Long red hair, a vibrant unnatural red, coiled in silky waves over her shoulders and cascaded right down to the swelling of her breasts. High cheekbones and wide-set golden eyes were set within a pale complexion that was snow-white as if she'd never tasted sunlight on her skin.

Sashaying forward, she reached us and her blood-red lips pulled into a smile. One that seemed small and unassuming. She opened her mouth, and shock rattled through me when I glimpsed needle-sharp teeth. A thin forked tongue sliced out to taste the air with a flick.

The Horned God stared down at my mother and said in a husky voice, her tone sweetly betraying her intent, "Tabitha Crowther, you've been hiding from us...and you know how we feel about that..."

My stomach fell away.

They'd kill my mother because she was other. That's why they'd come—for her.

But for me, my sister, my entire family, and House, our fate was sealed as well. All of us would be murdered for hiding her from them.

The sound of my name drew my attention away. Ferne huddling in my mother's arms, peeped up at me below a thick mane of messy black hair, and said squeaked once more, "Gray?" She blinked. The color of her irises were so unique they rivaled a sunrise.

Someone spoke behind me—female. "My, what pretty eyes you have."

My mother gasped.

Anger chewed its way through my veins with toxic teeth.

I managed to lock it down, before crouching beside Ferne, pressing two fingertips to my mouth before pressing them against her lips. "Turn away, Sis, don't watch this," and I smiled softly, giving her a wink.

Ferne buried her face in my mother's chest.

I rose—

Bloodlust exploded—

My heart raced, injected with adrenaline—

No one was going to fucking touch my family. No one would dare threaten my baby sister and fucking live. Not even the Horned Gods!

NO! FUCKING! WAY!

Twisting around, I surged forward before my mother could stop me. I lunged inside the limousine, snatching my weapons bag from the wrecked car and unzipped it with furious fingers.

"Gray, no—" my mother cried, starting to push herself upright.

But I was spinning away.

My blade sang as I unsheathed it in a graceful arc. It held a sweeter note than singing metal.

The boned blade, razor sharp and slightly curved with Ukkenskrit etched down the fuller, caught pale moonlight and shone brightly in the dark night.

I faced the Horned Gods, swinging my sword one-handed in a figure eight. The loops sliced lazily through the freezing air, dangerously near each side of my body as I whirled it, faster and faster and faster, making the blade whine and hum. My Fuck You Challenge!—to them.

Everything was tuned out. My sister's soft whimpers. My mother's frantic cries begging me to stop, begging the Horned Gods to spare my life.

Wind spilling over from the creature of mist and shadow blustered my hair. My quickened breaths briefly clouded in front of my face before being whipped away. I stared the three Horned Gods down. Fury and blood rage rushed in my ears and flowed through my veins. I braced my stance, both hands gripping the knotted hilt as I arced the sword above my head.

My sword was ancient.

It had been forged by the Blacksmith from a femur bone belonging to the greatest wyrm that ever lived—Draxxon. A few years back, my father had gifted me Draxxon's sword when I'd proved myself worthy of the blade.

Not my brothers. Me.

My black eyes gave me the right to wield the blade.

I was Graysen Crowther, from the only surviving family of the Final War.

My ancestors were ancient and ruthless and we'd held the mantle of Great House long ago.

And I—I was a Tamer of Wyrms!

But tonight—I'd be the Ender of Horned Gods!