Death Wind (Elven Alliance #3) - Tara Grayce Page 0,88

his senses. He felt the brush of fresh air from two of the tunnels. The air from one carried the scent of the mountains. The other held a whiff of the Escarlish gunpowder. Shouts and the clash of weapons came from that passage as well, along with the icy tang of troll magic.

Time to tear this fortress apart.

Footsteps hurried down the corridor after him, including Essie’s soft patter. He glanced over his shoulder.

Essie’s eyes were wide, her brow furrowed. Worried. About him.

A part of him wanted to turn around. Soften. Go to her.

But not yet. Not until he made sure the trolls would never hurt him or his family ever again.

Farrendel gripped his magic harder and strode down the tunnel toward the clash of steel and blasts of power.

Somewhere ahead, boots pounded on stone, headed toward him. Probably a squad of trolls, sent by King Charvod to fetch Farrendel.

Farrendel did not slow his pace. Why waste time with caution?

Eight trolls raced around the bend ahead of him. They skidded to a halt, several of them gathering their magic and hurling it toward Farrendel. Ice crackled along the tunnel walls while the stones of the floor reached for Farrendel’s feet.

Farrendel let his magic flood the corridor, melting the ice into clouds of steam and blasting the floor’s fingers into pebbles. Then he shoved a blast of power at the trolls and hurled them backwards.

When he stalked past the bodies strewn on the floor, he did not pause to check if the trolls were dead. He did not have to.

The tunnel swerved through several turns, the floor sloping upward. A few chambers opened up with intersecting passageways, but Farrendel followed the echoes of war, growing louder with each step.

A stone door barred his way. Beyond it, the boom of the Escarlish weapons vibrated through the stones beneath his feet while the clash of steel and shouts of fighting rang into the air.

A flick of Farrendel’s wrist sent bolts of magic at the door. The explosion shook the passageway. Pebbles pattered against the floor while dust clouded the air.

For the first time in two weeks, Farrendel stepped from the darkness of the dungeon into sunlight. He squeezed his eyes shut. Daylight. It warmed his face, even as a cold breeze blasted his face and clawed through the shortened strands of his hair. When he gulped in a lungful of the smoke and gunpowder filled air, it felt like the first time he had truly breathed in far too long.

The sunlight, the cold air, the snow-covered stone beneath his bare feet...it was almost enough to cool the fire of his magic searing his veins. Sunlight felt like home. The breeze tasted of freedom. And he could savor neither of them. With his magic crackling in every part of the raw emptiness inside him, he could focus on nothing but destruction.

He squinted against the morning sunlight, thankful for the early dawn. Full daylight would have been far too dazzling.

Ahead of him, lines of trolls fought against elves in flashing armor. Magic burst around them, ice and green shields, rocks hurling through the air and roots lashing from the ground. Behind the elves, squads of Escarlish soldiers filled gaps in the elven line or stood back and aimed their rifles at the trolls on the wall tops.

Heads turned toward him. Trolls at the back turned and dashed in Farrendel’s direction.

A blast of his magic sent the trolls stumbling back. Farrendel poured more magic into the ranks of the trolls, killing a number of them, hurling most of them from their feet. Even the elves stumbled back from the sizzling sweep of Farrendel’s magic.

A blast of icy magic slammed into Farrendel from the side. He stumbled a step before he steadied and pushed back with his magic, obliterating the troll magic.

Prince Rharreth stood by a door that led into what looked like the main section of the mountain castle. He raised his hands, as if to send another wave of magic at Farrendel.

Not this time. Not again. Farrendel hurled magic at the troll prince, wrapping bolts of power around the troll’s arms and body, piercing his wrists much as Farrendel had been pinned. Farrendel shoved the troll prince and held him there, helpless, even as the troll prince struggled against the magic.

Where was King Charvod? Weylind and Averett?

If King Charvod had already killed Farrendel’s brother, then this fortress would be razed to the ground.

There. At the far side of the courtyard, King Charvod lunged at Weylind, backed