Page 73

Chapter Fifty-Three

Aurelia

T he clang of blades and grunts of pain spur me faster. I yank Marc over to my collection of potion ingredients by the cauldrons already bubbling.

“If we can combine our gifts, we might be able to give our people the edge they need,” I say, squeezing his hand. “Let’s see what kind of potion would be most effective to weaken the enemy. Something that I can actually brew before they overwhelm us.”

Marc sucks in a breath, but the worry that shadows his face is only for me. “If the gods decide we’re asking too much—you shouldn’t risk yourself.”

I meet his gray gaze steadily, the ache of my grief welling up in my throat.

“I’m already risking myself just being here.

I might have died minutes ago—like Kassun, like Pierus.

” My voice catches, and I pause to gather myself.

“I’m only trying to find the path that means fewer of our people follow them.

Please. No one else’s gift can guide mine like yours might. ”

He swallows with a bob of his throat. “All right. You focus on the ‘patient’ when you’re devising a cure, don’t you? We’ll aim our gifts at Valerisse’s forces together.”

His agreement doesn’t settle my nerves. If anything, my pulse thuds faster. I don’t know what the consequences of our appeal might be.

I do know I won’t like the consequences if we don’t give this battle our all.

Beyond Marc, Raul bumps his shoulder against Lorenzo’s. His arms still dangle limp at his sides, but his voice is clear enough. “Focus on me, brother. We’re going to collaborate, just a little differently than we did before. I need you to be my arms. Are you with me?”

His warm but firm cadence appears to penetrate Lorenzo’s daze of shock. The prince of Rione blinks hard and gives his head a little shake. He still sways with apparent dizziness, but he steps closer to Raul so they can support each other.

The larger man casts his gaze toward me as if asking my permission. I nod, ignoring the lump that’s choking me.

None of us is going to surrender without pulling out every tactic we can.

I twine my fingers with Marc’s, but I don’t bother setting a rhythm. For all the wretchedness we’ve put each other through, we know one another as well as any two humans can.

Our hearts are already in sync. I trust that our gifts will follow our lead.

We stare out over the fields now churning with fighting men. An arrow whistles toward me only to be smacked aside by one of my other guard’s gifts. The host of them has shifted to follow me to my new position .

If they can buy us enough time to see this gambit through…

I let my attention slide over the thousands of uniformed bodies surging across the grassy terrain. I need to cure this moment of their violence. Neutralize the contagion of their hostility. Heal my country of the havoc they’ve been wreaking.

A tingle spreads over my skin from where my hand and Marc’s are joined.

Please , I think to Elox, let me see the best way to stop them. A way that’s fast and true. For the safety of all the realms. For the peace I’ll bring. Please.

A pinching sensation pricks at my gut. A chill washes over me that some part of my innards might be dissolving with this massive act of magic, but I hold firm, repeating my plea, concentrating on my intent.

Marc sucks in a sharp breath—and then I see it.

An array of herbs and powders flickers before my eyes. All of them must go into the cauldron—this one first, then that. Ten minutes for them to properly steep once they’re at a boil.

We have time. We must have enough time.

I release Marc to snatch at my stockpile. My hands tremble with the leaves I scatter across the frothing water, the bits of root and flecks of crystalline mineral that follow it.

My first husband watches from behind me, silent until I’ve stirred and stepped back from the mixture.

“Do you know what it’ll do?” he asks.

I open my mouth and close it again. I didn’t ask that specifically. My intent was so broad.

I glance at him. “Do you ?”

A thin smile curves Marc’s lips. “I think Elox may be trying to make a point about the value of peacemaking. You should at least be glad that I don’t get the impression it’s going to burn anyone’s skin off or dissolve their organs.”

“Ah.” A strangled laugh lurches out of me. “Well, I suppose that’s good news.”

“How are we going to get it onto them, though?”

A shout amid the fray draws my attention. New tendrils of shadow are whipping through the enemy ranks, lashing at ankles and tangling feet.

Raul smirks where he’s poised next to Lorenzo, keeping up a low murmur to steady his foster brother’s focus. Lorenzo is still blinking more than usual, but he maneuvers the shadows that stretch across Raul’s hands without hesitation.

I spin toward Bastien. The prince of Cotea hasn’t let go of the tent post he’s using to ground himself, his dark green eyes as vacant and bloodshot as they were when I first looked him over. His head twitches as he attempts to follow the battle by sound alone.

I step closer. “Bastien, do you have enough energy to use your gift again?”

He lets out a raw chuckle. “As well as I can.”

I grip his shoulder. “We’ll work it together. I’ll be your eyes, like Lorenzo is being Raul’s hands right now. And when this is over, I’ll see that the medics get you your eyes back.”

“As long as we get to the point where you can ask them to try, I don’t even care about the outcome.” He rests his palm over my knuckles. “Let me know when and what, and we’ll make it happen.”

I stir the potion again, wishing every minute didn’t feel like an eternity. The gasps and thuds of falling bodies jolt through my nerves. At the corner of my eye, Kassun’s slumped body haunts me.

I tried to let him go. If he’d let me take him off duty a week ago …

Would I have died in that case, without him adding to my defense? Would he really have preferred that outcome?

I swallow hard and keep stirring.

When I peer down at the pot and my gift tells me it’s ready, a gasp of my own rushes out of me. “Now. We need to fling this concoction over as much of Valerisse’s army as we can.”

Hot as it is, it’ll be a stinging sort of rain, but I can’t help that.

Bastien links his arm with mine. The clouds overhead start to churn, but their moisture is already dispelled.

This rainfall will be only my brew.

The prince of Cotea takes a slow breath. “Look where you want the wind to go. Think about the healing you’re trying to do. That seems like the best way to merge our gifts.”

I stare down at the cauldron, imagining the air whipping down and scooping up the greenish liquid. Picturing the serene glow that’s appeared to me in visions before spreading across the fields with its patter.

A gust warbles past me and plunges into the cauldron. With a lurch of my heart, I flick my gaze toward the soldiers I want to aim the contents at.

A flurry of pale green flings from the cauldron up into the air and streams over the heads of our allies. I will it farther, faster, not even entirely sure how much I’m controlling it now and how much Bastien is simply directing it through impressions he’s getting from me.

It streaks out against the lightening blue of the sky—and splatters across the center of Valerisse’s army.

I don’t know how many soldiers the droplets hit, how many got enough of the spray for the effects to take hold. The uniformed figures barely flinch at the impact.

Then a man in their midst lets out a bellowing laugh. He swings his arms around another man braced next to him, engulfing his colleague in an insistent hug.

Before my eyes, more guffaws and giggles break out through the army. Someone starts singing a hopeful children’s tune. Friendly voices carry through the clatter of the fighting.

It isn’t a huge number of them, but they’re disrupting the soldiers nearby: with embraces and eager chattering and tugging them into playful dances. Even though my stomach remains balled tight, a small smile tugs at my lips.

Elox is making a point indeed—perhaps with a little inspiration from Inganne. The desire for peace and joy can be just as much an obstacle to an enemy as a blade or a boulder can.

And no doubt this approach is more effective than any other I could have taken.

If the soldiers my potion struck crumpled with wounds or poisoning, their fellows would push forward with even more desire to strike me down.

If I’d turned them hostile to their colleagues, it’d be easier for those colleagues to fight back.

Instead, they’re being faced with the men and women they’ve been preparing alongside for weeks offering affection rather than violence. Reminding them of what they might be giving up in their lives back home if they see this battle through to the bitter end.

Will it be enough?

Raul and Lorenzo’s joint effort keeps tripping up the soldiers along the front lines, but the mass of Valerisse’s army is still cutting down our own people all along the base of the hill. More gifts blare and blast on both sides. Our ranks look far too thin.

We haven’t turned the tide yet. Maybe with just a little more…

I turn to Marc, meaning to suggest that we try again or that I brew another batch, and see that he’s squinting at the distant hills. My gaze ticks to follow his.

More soldiers are approaching, one mass to the northwest and another, larger one to the northeast. Their uniforms glower with the same black base and white bones as the enemy we’re already engaged with.

My legs wobble—and a blaze of ruddy light streaks across the sky.

Not one of Sabrelle’s omens. It’s a red dove, the symbol our illusionists promised they’d show us when they were approaching.

My pulse hitches.

“Fight on!” I holler to our soldiers. “Don’t let them gain one inch of ground. Show them the might of those loyal to the empire!”