Page 17 of Harbinger

Victor stiffened.

Morgan’s scalp prickled.It’s—it’s working!

His heart thundered as he watched the green mist spread across the Ivory Peaks faster than the speed of light. The haze thickened before condensing down into a thin, shimmering barrier that hugged the highest mountains and treetops in the land and wrapped around all its life forms.

Even though he could not see beyond the vale, Morgan knew in his soul that the entire kingdom was now being shielded by Atlanteia’s magic. How long that defense would last was anyone’s guess.

Better get rid of what’s threatening Ivory Peaks before it collapses then!

Leiv was staring at the semi-lucent layer hovering above his flesh and Asteria’s body, his face pale. “What—what is this?!”

The eagle remained serene beneath him, as if she knew what the light sparking across her feathers meant.

“It’s Atlanteia’s protection.”

“What?!” Hildur breathed.

Regina and Elwyn exchanged a shocked look.

“You never fail to surprise me,” Galliad mumbled in admiration.

“It will keep you safe from this plague.”

Morgan’s gaze shifted from the dazed Dryads to the approaching threat hurtling toward the capital. The dark wave boiled agitatedly as it thinned and spread sideways, as if it sensed the new magic protecting the realm it wished to decimate. It stretched into a ring that soon encircled the city and the palace. Shadows raced across the gardens as the sky darkened. The stench of ozone saturated the air.

“Morgan,” Victor warned.

Morgan scowled. “I see it.”

Gold flashed amidst the black fog rolling rapidly toward them, a bright spot that winked in and out of sight as whoever controlled the plague shielded themselves within the living miasma.

Morgan’s stomach lurched when the dazzling light suddenly split. “Dammit! There’s two of them!”

Victor’s knuckles whitened on the handle of his sword. “Here they come!”

Morgan caught a glimpse of bloodshot, gold-speckled eyes and a female face distorted by fury before something rammed him with enough force to rattle his teeth and choke his breath. Surprise jolted him when he heard the crunch of his Stark Steel armor. Fire raked his flank.

Victor’s battle cry sounded close by as the landscape blurred around him.

Morgan plowed through the wall of the palace, smashed into the central concourse of the throne room, and carved a deep groove in the marble floor before fetching up hard against the steps of the dais holding the gilded chairs of the king and queen of the Dryads. He sat up and shook his head dazedly, trepidation tightening his chest.

It had been a long time since he had lost the upper hand in a battle so quickly.

Metal glinted at the corner of his vision.

Morgan cursed and rolled. Blood smeared the pale tiles from the wound his attacker had inflicted when she’d damaged his suit and cut his flesh.

A brass-studded scourge smashed into the ground where he’d been a heartbeat ago. Debris erupted, the shards missing him by a hairbreadth as he spread his wings and shot backward. Morgan’s heart thumped violently when his foe finally emerged from the mass of seething shadows hovering in mid-air.

The barefoot, black-winged Goddess wore a tattered, golden dress that exposed her glittering flesh in places. Unkempt, dark hair covered her greasy scalp and writhed around her head, the ragged ends tipped with hissing snake heads. The metal and leather whip in her hand twitched sinuously, the lashes moving as if they were alive.

“Who are you?” Morgan raised the Sword of Wind in a defensive stance. “Why are you attacking this kingdom?!”

The Goddess glanced at his sword. Her lips stretched in a smile that did not reach her dark eyes. “That’s because we mean to steal your blade and kill you, brother.”

Morgan’s pulse stuttered.Brother?!

The fist that smashed into his stomach crushed his armor and bruised his flesh. He gasped, eyes rounding as he sailed backward across the hall.

---