Page 54

They rode steadily along the trail passing between sheer rock faces.

Tree roots crisscrossed the path, and branches hung out—soldiers dipped their head to get by.

Overgrown sections swallowed separate routes whole, seemingly disappearing altogether.

One could easily get lost there, and she wondered if it was such a bad idea.

Half-buried stones and pebbles shifted underneath horses’ hooves.

Fallen, dewy leaves clung to twigs at the sides, and wildflowers poked through the tall grass.

Sun speckled areas broke the darkness of the forest in random places.

Tilting her face to the sky, she let the light warm her cheeks for the few seconds she rode.

A low footbridge over a stream ahead held them up for half an hour while each soldier coaxed their horses along the worn, creaking bridge, and again later, when they rode through a shallow creek.

Fallen tree trunks and decaying branches blocked several routes through the forest, testing Filip’s patience as he navigated the way through.

Adelina remained close by, biting her tongue.

Every muscle of her body ached from exhaustion—each of her nights plagued by nightmares she couldn’t seem to shake.

She was in no mood to deal with Filip’s displeasure, nor did she possess the effort to poke and prod at him, either.

Instead, she focused her attention on the small animals moving in the underbrush, and the splashing of water over rocks.

As soon as they broke through the edge of the forest, her thoughts would return to the siege laying ahead of them, but until then, she let her mind wander.

The pungent scent of decaying wood and leaves filled her nostrils.

‘The thought of you leaving, leaving me, is crippling. If you told me you wanted to run away to escape Filip—if you feel this mark has sealed your fate—then I would go with you.’

Damir’s words all those months ago echoed. She wondered what would’ve happened if they had run away before the test. Would Filip have found her anyway? There was no way of knowing for sure.

When they broke through the treeline and the afternoon heat of early summer warmed her cheeks, she refocused on the task at hand. Reach Aramoor. Keep Damir and her family safe. She could not fail. She would not fail.

∞∞∞

Drums boomed over Murtei—the city of the Temauten Congregation, not too far from Aramoor. The sound of thundering drums would carry on the wind. Her family would hear them. Adelina hoped they would heed its warning.

Filip led the march into the city. Murtei’s soldiers were already in position—shields raised; swords pointed. Her breath caught in her throat. Another bloodbath would ensue, and she could do nothing to stop it.

“Attack!” Filip’s booming voice sliced the air.

All foot soldiers and calvary charged forward in formation. The bright red banners of Murtei waved in the breeze. What seemed like hundreds of narrow spears shot through the air, ultimately landing in the hearts of his men.

Adelina couldn’t help the surge of joy shooting through her heart. Temauten were prepared for this attack—they’d ensured their defences were in line, and perhaps there was hope they wouldn’t face the same ending as Saintlandsther.

The people of Temauten—her beloved hometown—were prideful, and they weren’t about to let their home be taken down without a fight.

She stayed out of Filip’s line of sight and sought civilians. Instead of committing murder, she’d save those she could. She’d prove she was not the same as Filip. While she may share half her soul with him, he was not half the person she was.

Jumping from her horse, she guided a quivering family inside a building. She ushered them under a table. “Stay low and keep your heads covered. Don’t come out. There may be explosions.”

As she turned to leave, a child grabbed her arm. “Wait. Don’t go.”

“You will be fine here,” she reassured him. “I must help other families.”

His mother held him, stroking his head. “Thank you.”

Adelina smiled, then dashed outside. Damir waited, wielding a sword.

“Where in gods’ realm did you get that?” she gasped.

“I saw you slip off, and I wasn’t about to lose you in the fight like last time or let myself get throttled by Filip again. I knocked out a soldier and stole his weapon. Here, I have a sword for you.” He grinned, tossing it to her. “We stay together. Always.”

“Always,” she repeated. “Stay behind me. You don’t have any true experience with a sword, so follow me and copy what I do. ”

She’d need to rely on her combat skills if she was going to use the blade instead of unleashing her magic.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she squashed her nerves.

There wasn’t time to dwell on her newly acquired abilities to fight with fists and weapons.

With a tight grip on her weapon, she led Damir into battle.

She swung her sword, cutting a path through the battlefield. With a brief glance over her shoulder, she found Damir slashing his weapon this way and that—clumsy and not always accurate, but she was in no place to complain or criticise, especially if it kept him alive.

The iron scent of fresh blood filled her nose, making her grimace. Another wave of arrows whooshed! overhead as archers on the walls unleashed them from their bows. Instinctively, she flung up her arm to protect her head.

Screams punctured the air as men hit the ground like tumbling dominoes.

While the army of Murtei was smaller than the number of men at Filip’s command, they did not back down.

Adelina, unwilling to thrash her weapon through men of her own country, ducked and dived out of the way, dashing through shadows, and drawing families away from the conflict.

Damir, on the other hand, stayed close to her, and flung his sword up to meet any attacking blows.

Sweat stung her eyes like tiny vipers as she re-emerged into the chaos outside.

A blur of colour. A whirlwind of disorder.

Her parched mouth collected dust from the cloud stirred into the air by heavy footfall.

Blood pounded in her ears, drumming to the ferocious beat of her heart.

The sound wasn’t enough to drown the screams of men, the cries of children separated from their mothers, or the thunder of steel striking steel.

“Head straight for the gates of Temauten Congregation. Let no man stand in your way!” Filip’s barked ordered pierced her ears.

She spun, searching for his face amongst the crowd. His black talons snaked through the air, tossing bodies aside as if they were nothing, severing limbs like snapped twigs.

Fuelled by rage, her golden embroidery zapped into existence around her wrist. She raised her arm, ready to fire a bolt of unrestrained magic in his direction.

“Don’t.” Damir grabbed her. “It’s not worth risking innocent lives. Remember what you’re here to do. Help people.”

Swallowing her wrath, she nodded.

One of Filip’s soldiers snatched a longbow from a nearby stand and unleashed an arrow. It punctured a man on a roof opposite them. He toppled over, descended two storeys, and crashed onto the porch below.

Adelina ground her teeth. Filip was ordering needless murders of people who were defending their home.

Heading deeper into the packed streets of the city, it wasn’t long before she and Damir were separated.

She’d no choice but to parry oncoming attacks.

She blocked what blows she could as she darted through the crowd, all the while keeping one hand pressed against her fractured ribs.

She gritted her teeth through the pain. These moments of agony in her side would be worth it if it meant getting her family to safety and getting her hands on that book.

One of Filip’s men threw a punch into a Murtei soldier’s neck. He stumbled backwards into another of Filip’s army.

He gripped him by the neck and sliced it.

“You didn’t need to kill him!” she raged.

“It’s either kill them or they will kill you. And Filip will never let me see the light of day if I let you die,” he grunted before countering another attack.

Spinning, she searched for Damir. Disoriented by the packed crowd, the constant clatter of metal, and the sharp shoves and jolts of charging men, she fought her way through the battle.

Gripping onto a nearby, blood spattered beam, she panted, catching her breath.

She needed to get a better vantage point if she was to spot her husband.

Taking in a moment, she scanned her surroundings.

The beam was connected to a wooden floor directly above her head.

Following it with her gaze, she spotted a staircase.

Dashing for it, she sprinted up the spiralling steps and onto the balcony overlooking the onslaught crammed into the narrow cobble street. “Damir!”

Despite screaming his name at the top of her lungs, the sound would not carry over the battle below.

Her gaze darted about, and she cursed the fact his dark hair blended in with the rest. Thankfully, he was armed.

“Gods damn it,” she said under her breath.

As she hurried down the stairs and through the door, she found herself in a sea of fighting men.

Cramped, she shoved her way between jostling limbs and swinging swords.

Her ribs screamed in protest as people pushed and shoved her.

Blinking back stars, she ignored the pain, keeping her spare hand clamped against her side as she sought her husband.

Rising onto her tiptoes, she craned her neck and searched for him again. As she surveyed the crowd, a sharp blow landed on the back of her head. The street wheeled, and the blood-spattered cobbles rose to meet her.

∞∞∞

She awoke to a silent city. Her eyes fluttered open, and a concerned Filip frowned at her. With a disorienting jerk, she tumbled out of his embrace.

He let her go but remained kneeling by her side. “Victory is ours.”