Arcemis's Arc

Chapter 8 of 16

The farmhouse still smoked behind them when the hounds came. Arcemis and Amira ran through cold grass. Green shapes broke from the tree line. Their eyes burned like sick embers. Arcemis knew them. Rhademus's hounds. He turned, sword ready, but the blade held only steel. Amira gripped his arm. Dark threads still clung to her wrists, thin as spider silk. They tugged at her skin. "He's not done," she whispered. The hounds circled. Then they stopped. The air went still. Rhademus walked out of the smoke, unburned. His robes hung clean and black. Red eyes fixed on Amira. "You cost me a demon," he said, slow and soft. "So I will make one. Vaphos will return through the door I open in her." He raised one hand. The threads on Amira's wrists pulled tight. She screamed and dropped to her knees. Arcemis lunged, but the unseen force slammed him back. He landed hard. His cracked ribs screamed. He watched Rhademus step close to Amira, a black knife in his fist. "A sacrifice opens the way," Rhademus said. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Her blood for his return." He drove the knife into Amira's chest. She fell. Blood spread across her red dress. The threads glowed green, feeding on her. Something stirred in the smoke behind Rhademus, a shape with horns, half formed. Vaphos, clawing back from the spirit realm. Arcemis felt heat rise in his hands. Not from the fire. From his chest. Gaia had named him Guardian of Light. The light had failed him for days. Now it answered his rage. Gold spread down his arms and into the steel. His sword blazed like the dawn. He stood. "You will not have her." Rhademus turned. His eyes widened for the first time. "Impossible. The light was spent." "It's back." Arcemis charged. The hounds leaped. He cut through the first in a sweep of gold. Fae butterflies rose from the grass where the light touched, drawn to it, glowing bright. They swarmed the half-formed demon. Vaphos hissed and shrank back into the smoke. Arcemis reached Rhademus and swung. The king raised his threads like a shield. Gold burned through them. Rhademus stumbled, his sleeve smoking. He hissed and vanished into a swirl of black. The hounds fled after him. Arcemis dropped beside Amira. Her breath came shallow. He pressed his glowing hand to the wound. The light poured in. The dark threads snapped and dissolved. Her skin knit slowly. She gasped and clutched his wrist. "You're free," he said. "He can't reach you now." Amira looked at his shining sword, then at his face. Tears filled her green eyes. "You saved me. Again." She touched his cheek. "When this war ends, I want a home with you. A real one." Arcemis held her. The light faded from his blade, but the promise stayed. Rhademus had fled wounded. Vaphos had failed to return. Yet the king now knew Arcemis's light lived. He would come again, stronger, and he would not stab. He would burn everything.