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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

T HE SUNS HAD SET by the time we reached the mountain slope outside the city of Volcar. Damien’s men circled the perimeter of the city—the line a dozen soldiers deep. Their ships waited in the channel behind them, stocked and armed.

I stood high along the hill with the Fae lined beside me while Riven and Pimiirth waited in the nearby woods with the rest of the Elverin, ready to attack once the path was clear.

I scanned the ships with my spyglass. My eye caught on a young man with a tiny dagger fastening his black cloak.

Damien had a new Arsenal every week. The new Dagger was the leanest so far, though from the way his dark eyes shifted around the crowd, noticing every hint of movement, I knew he was a sharp shot. His short frame was deceiving, but Gerarda had proven that a Dagger didn’t need to be large to be deadly.

He stood at the top of the tallest mast in the armada, his ship still docked at port. He took out his own spyglass and held it up to his eye. One dark brown, the other black. At least until Damien decided to peer through it.

The glass glinted in the orange light of the evening suns as his scope landed on me. I waved. The Dagger scowled behind the spyglass, the amber pupil flaring bright inside it. His gaze stayed on me, trailing down the lengths of my arms and torso. There was no reason to hide my scars any longer. Damien knew the truth of it now.

I could tell by the way his lips curled that it was Damien who was watching me, not the Dagger. His body straightened and he shouted something to the men on the lower decks. Still, he did not set the spyglass down nor did he turn away from me.

I smirked, hoping he could see it, and raised my dagger above my head with Brenna’s name in full view. I let it linger in the air before lowering the blade and pointing it directly at Damien’s stolen face.

His lip curled back over his teeth, and when he opened his mouth, the ground shook under my feet, his voice echoing across the entire city. I turned to the others behind me. Was this some kind of new invention? Some kind of bastardization of the water spells the Elverin used to project their voices?

Vrail pointed down at the soldiers below.

It was worse.

Every soldier had mismatched eyes. One natural and one black as night with an amber ring as a pupil.

My stomach turned.

They all spoke as one terrifying unit. “There’s an enemy in our midst,” the chorus of voices boomed so loud small balls of snow rolled down the snowy peaks.

My throat tightened. Damien wasn’t speaking to us. He was delivering his message directly to the citizens of Volcar. With no chance of interruption and no doubt that even the hardest of hearing would feel the tremble of his words.

“My most loyal and adoring subjects, this is your king speaking.” A wave of shocked gasps echoed through Volcar. “The traitorous Blade who killed my father, your most kind and loving king, has come to set siege to our city. She plans to kill your children, your wives, your neighbors. And believe me when I say a vile creature like her will delight in your cries.”

My teeth creaked as they ground together, but there was nothing I could do to stop his speech.

“But you needn’t fret.” Damien’s smirk crawled up his Dagger’s face. “My soldiers and armada will more than match their forces. And the waateyshirak circling the smoking mountain answer only to me.”

The pendant on the Dagger’s chest glowed bright. In the distance, an ear-splitting screech split the skies.

The blood drained from my face as the waateyshir appeared from behind the smoking, snow-capped mountain. It soared through the smoke without hesitation, the burning air scorching its belly like a soft caress keeping it safe from the last rays of sunlight. It dove deep into its pit and emerged with a second waateyshir chasing its billowing black tail.

“But the traitor has come for more than just your screams,” Damien continued. “She is here to turn every single Halfling into an evil creature that will feast on your bones. Her golden eyes mark her for the terror that she is.” Some of the soldiers shifted to get a better look at me, as if their Mortal eyes could see the details of my face from across the valley. “So hand over every Halfling known to you so my guard can protect them from her vicious hand. Name them now and no one need be harmed except for the traitors in the north.”

The Dagger’s lip twitched as panic erupted across the streets of Volcar. Mortals shoved people out of the way, women shrieked, pointing at Halflings as they clutched their children to their breasts.

“Surrender and I will not harm them,” Damien offered in ten thousand whispers.

I stepped forward. I didn’t need my spyglass to know the Dagger smiled and his amber pupil pulsed as I raised my hand. Damien waited for me to drop my weapon, a symbol of surrender, but instead a thin spout of water breached the surface of the sea next to his boat and floated upward at my command in a twisting spiral.

It formed a large sphere above the ships, filling itself with water from the channel until it grew to twice the size of the miikibi’thir orb in Vellinth. The crowds hushed; they had no words for magic like this. It hadn’t existed in their lifetimes.

With an easy wave of my hand, I pulled a tiny droplet from the orb and sent it soaring toward my mouth. If Damien wanted to make speeches, I could make one too.

I paused to make sure the shirak were staying close to their mountain. Their beaks snapped and their talons stretched, but Damien had not commanded them to attack. The suns had not surrendered their protection.

Yet.

I cleared my throat, and my voice boomed across the entire city. I smiled as the ground shook more than it had for Damien’s speech. “To the Mortals, I have only one thing to say and that is that your king lies to you.” Broken shrieks echoed through the skies as the city dwellers pointed up at the large orb of water that projected my voice as well as my likeness. It was like a gigantic looking glass had been suspended in the air and I was looking out from it. My pointed ears, golden eyes, and scars on full display.

I was a creature they and their foremothers had never seen. The past come to reclaim its land from their clutches.

“Damien doesn’t care how many of you die. He does not care if every one of you perish as long as he remains upon the throne.” I lifted my chin and let the glow in my eyes simmer. “He killed his own father to claim that chair, and he will kill you too. The sides have been drawn. Choose yours carefully, for history will be decided soon.”

I cleared my throat, letting my voice soften before I addressed the people I most cared for. “For the Halflings, you know the Crown has never offered us true protection. You can taste the falsehoods in Damien’s words just as well as I. But you should know that he has come for you now because he knows what waits for you when the rebellion wins.”

I flicked my wrist and the image in the orb changed from my face to memories of Halflings singing together in Myrelinth, laughing and celebrating as the children danced and swung in the trees. Image after image, Halfling after Halfling, I let them see what freedom looked like.

Half of the people in the streets froze, unable to look away from the sky.

I looked down the line at the Amber Fae who joined me. I nodded and each of their eyes began to glow.

“He comes for you because he knows the power you hold.” The images changed once more, no longer memories but what I was witnessing now. Gerarda’s amber eyes were even brighter as the shadows curled around her body, lashing out like thrown blades. Elaran changed her face into Gerarda’s and then into the Dagger’s before transforming into Damien himself, the glowing amber eyes the only sign that she was not truly him.

“He knows what you can become,” I said, my eyes never leaving the Dagger’s face. “And he would rather kill you for it than see you turn against him.” I raised my hand and another spout splashed the Dagger in the face. “I will not accept your offer. Today, tomorrow, or ever after. Because no Halfling, Elf, or Fae will ever submit to you again. We shall fight.”

Parts of the crowd cheered, and the soldiers readied their swords for an attack. Damien spat salty water onto the deck below, wiping his host’s face with his black cloak.

The Dagger waved his hand. A horn blew in the distance as the shirak shrieked from the mountain. The soldiers began their march, not toward us but into the city. Their belts filled with blades to slay Halflings in the street.

The pendant on the Dagger’s chest began to glow.

“As you wish.” The chorus of voices boomed, drowning out the panicked screams from inside the city walls. The Dagger leaned over the crow’s nest and lifted his blade in the air, as he shouted his king’s final command. “Kill the Halflings on sight!”