The warriors who were no longer needed for battle began separating out the dead Invictus from those who lived, binding the latter.
The dead were carted outside the camp and would later be carried to the morgues within his realm and cremated. A troll clean-up crew would take over at dawn. Trolls could bear the light, unlike fae, vampires, and wraith-pairs. At sunrise, the clean-up squads would be unmolested by any remaining enemy Invictus who had been out on patrol during the attack.
He continued to levitate in order to see the battlefield and to keep tabs on Margetta. But he’d been right and eventually the golden light disappeared altogether as she left the Dead Zone for good.
A few minutes later, the last of the Invictus surrendered.
A sense of tremendous victory ran through him. This was one of the few times in his life as a ruling mastyr, he’d actually accomplished something significant in the war against the Invictus. Never, in all these centuries of battling and of service, had so many Invictus been destroyed in one night.
Slowly the tents were taken down and set on fire. Wooden parts of the camp were added to the blaze piece by piece.
Anything metal was set aside to give to a local scrapyard.
Luther approached him and grabbed his forearm, which Zane returned, gripping the shifter leader hard.
Luther’s eyes glowed fiercely. “This was a victory like none other. My people will write songs about this battle.” He waved his arm toward the northern end of the camp. “I’ve had a couple of shifters filming the whole time. Our victory here will be on the Realm Internet before dawn.”
“Good. I want all the people of the Nine Realms to know what has happened here at Angler’s Cliff.”
Ryder, the leader of the Troll Brigade arrived, his face red and his eyes shining. “We beat those fucking bastards!”
All three men shouted their triumph to the skies, a sound that caught through the entire battlefield until his brigades roared as one.
When the din died down, two shifter warriors drew near, each holding a bottle of beer. They bowed slightly to all three leaders. The shorter one addressed Zane. “Mastyr, we’ve found their provisions.” He lifted the bottle. “Might we pass one around for each of your warriors?”
“Oh, hell yeah,” Zane said. “With my blessing and approval. And I want to hear more shouting, some solid shifter, troll, and vampire roars in the night for what we’ve done here.”
Luther left with his men and Zane’s words were repeated and soon launched another roar of celebration.
Regan and Olivia came down from their levitated perch high in the air. Olivia’s blond hair was swept away from her face in a beautiful mass, her green eyes glowing from her part in the battle.
He went to her and pulled her into his arms. “You did this. You
brought a kind of victory we’ve never known before. We’ve only lost a few warriors against their entire camp. But I have to know, what made you bound like that, because it turned the tide?”
“I don’t know exactly. I could see that the battle had stalled out, but my shifter frequency prompted me to do what Luther had said I could do. I went full-out Zephyr and it was wonderful.”
He slanted his lips over hers, a kiss full of appreciation, of admiration. Smiling, he released her, but only far enough to slide an arm around her waist.
Extending his hand to Regan, he took her forearm and gripped it. “And to you, Mistress, we owe you everything because you vanquished Margetta’s spell. With all my heart, I thank you.”
Tears fell from the Ruby Fae’s eyes. “All these centuries, I’ve had to endure reports of thousands of depredations in the Nine Realms, but could do little to help. Tonight has made up for it all.”
Zane nodded, understanding her completely. “We’re celebrating. Will you join us, Mistress, and say a blessing?”
She nodded and brushed the tears off her cheeks. “I would be honored.”
Drawing near some long tables, where several shifters had set up case after case of beer, Zane levitated both Olivia and Regan into the air. After a moment, his combined forces grew quiet.
He addressed his troops in a strong voice. “Your commitment and service here at Angler’s Cliff will be spoken of for centuries to come as one of the greatest victories of all time against the Invictus. But we also owe a tremendous debt to these two women; Regan who tore the spell walls of the camp down and Olivia whose Zephyr powers turned the tide of battle and saved countless lives. Let’s hear it for these brave, powerful women.”
The roars that rang into the night were like nothing Zane had known. His heart had never been so full, so eased, so content as in this moment. His realm was finally rid of the incessant Invictus assaults he’d suffered for the past several decades. It wasn’t an end to Invictus incursion; he knew that. But it was a powerful beginning.
His own voice joined the sound that rose to the heavens.
When at last the voices of his troops began to grow hoarse, the roaring lessened until finally Regan gave her blessing.
Levitating on her own and holding out both hands, she cried out in a strong voice over the battlefield, “May the Goddess bless these strong warrior hearts that have sacrificed to keep our people safe during this dark siege of Invictus terror. May this land be forevermore a hallowed place, where future generations can honor the service of our warriors, of those who live to celebrate in victory as well as those who gave their lives tonight. And may this be the beginning of a final chapter for the destruction of the last horrible bond that enslaved so many innocent and took the lives of tens of thousands of our beloved families and friends. The Goddess’s blessings be upon you, now and forever.”