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CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

“K EERA, WE NEED TO GO. ” Dynara’s voice sounded far away like she was speaking to me from across a long room and refused to shout. Riven’s arm tightened along my chest, still asleep, as Dynara poured a skin of water over both of us. Riven roared awake, the bedsheets flying to the floor.

Dynara tried to hold in a laugh as she realized we weren’t dressed, but Gerarda only crossed her arms through the other side of the portal that had opened in the middle of the room. “Classic but effective.”

Riven chucked a pillow through the portal and stood to change clothes. Dynara turned around but didn’t leave, hiding her giggles behind a cough.

Gerarda’s lip curled back in annoyance at my sleepy pace. “The Dead Wood is on fire.”

I yanked my leathers on in a fit of panic. “Next time,” I said to them, pulling on my boot, “you lead with that.”

Riven grabbed a tunic from his closet and handed it to me.

“Don’t need it.” I shook my head, pulling on my leather vest. “I want Damien to see my scars when I kill him.”

Gerarda flipped her blade in her hand, the smell of smoke drifting through the portal. “We have a lot of soldiers to get through first.”

I stepped through the portal trying to braid my hair, but it was too short. Gerarda pulled half of it back and secured it into a small knot. “That should hold well enough.” She nodded at the end of the tent. “Syrra and El already took the troops to the wall.”

Gwyn cleared her throat.

“With the help of Ring,” Gerarda added.

I turned to Gwyn. “You need to conserve your energy. The march wasn’t that far and we were supposed to wait until dawn.”

“There won’t be a dawn,” Gwyn said darkly as she pulled open the tent. “The suns rose an hour ago.”

The sky was black. Not a ray of sunlight or star could be seen through the thick purple smoke that rose as high as the tallest clouds and cast the new morning into never-ending shadow. The shirak circled the Order and Koratha with no signs of leaving. Their wide wings made wind so strong I could feel it along the tree line. My nostrils burned and my mouth dried at the taste of ashen wood and death.

Tears welled in my eyes as I saw the Dead Wood. The forest that had sprung back to life was once again black and burnt. The entire wood was alit with violet flame. I gritted my teeth. Damien’s purple fire shielded the shirak from the sun, losing us our advantage.

My stomach churned as I tried to quell the flames, but all I managed was to drain my power. I sent a gust, trying to push through the thick clouds of smoke, but whatever magic Damien had tainted the fire with made it almost impossible.

“Enough, diizra .” Riven grabbed my arm. “Lash died fighting Damien’s violet flames.”

I sighed and took in the sight below. The white wall of Koratha was lined with soldiers, two dozen thick at least. They held torches in their shield hands; it was the only reason I could count their number at all. Tiny little matches in the darkness. Dynara opened another portal and brought us to the tents behind our army. It was not nearly as big as what Damien had amassed. I doubted we had more than a quarter of his men.

But we had more than a dozen Fae who would not be taken by surprise like our foremothers had been. We were here to fight.

“Should we light the faebeads?” Syrra asked in way of greeting.

I looked out at our ranks. Every soldier was standing tall, holding weapons that had only been smithed the day before. Some wore dark ink along their faces like Syrra did, and others decorated their brows with thin strands of gold that were pinned to the backs of their braids.

“Do it.” I nodded at Syrra, and she gave the command in Elvish, lifting her golden sword as our side of the battle was lit with faelight. The shirak screeched into the darkness at the light. Some perched along the back walls, craning their necks as they screamed while others circled the palace. We had their attention now, and they were not pleased with the intrusion.

Riven grabbed my hand. “I will be with Rheih.” I pulled him into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth of the diizra he was keeping for me under his leather chest plate. I reveled in his scent, the warm birchwood that was the closest thing to home I knew mixed with parchment and ink. His hand caressed my back as we held each other, all our secrets told. At least if we died today, we would die as true to ourselves as we could be.

Riven cleared his throat, tears stinging his eyes. “If this is farewell—”

I pressed my lips to his. “No farewells. No last words.” I stood on the tips of my toes and pressed my forehead against his. “I will find you when the smoke clears and we have won.”

Riven’s stare hardened as his eyes traced over every line of my face like a painter, committing it to memory by force. He pressed a kiss to my neck so no one else would hear his words but me.

“Go fulfill your promise, diizra .” He pressed his hand to his chest, holding Brenna with all the gentleness he saved for me. “And then return so we can fulfill ours together.” My throat tightened, too much to say anything back to him. Instead, I laced our fingers and pressed a kiss to his palm. Then Dynara opened a portal and Riven was gone.

The gates opened. I braced myself for even more soldiers to be let into the field, but it was clear these were not soldiers at all.

They were Halflings.

Hundreds of Halflings.

Damien was pushing them out of the city to tame our attack. The threat was clear. Use our full strength, and he would send down a hell storm of waateyshirak on the innocent Halflings we were trying to save. He’d just turned this into a rescue mission as well as a battle. I could almost feel his hand on my back, moving me like a pawn on a chessboard, delighting in the feel of my scars and the panicked heartbeat in my chest.

Syrra stepped beside me. “He believes he has us pinned.”

“He underestimates us.” I swallowed, knowing what had to be done. “We’ll split into four units.” I drained a skin of spelled water and watched as it broke into tiny droplets that clung around everyone’s mouth and ears. The remaining droplets swirled through the air, searching for their keepers.

Syrra crossed her arms, considering the plan. “Two teams to pull Halflings out and two to fight?”

I shook my head. “We’ll spare one to help them. Dynara can try to portal as many as she can. But the Halflings will have to fight for their own freedom today.”

A deep horn sounded over the sea. Dynara opened a portal so we could see Myrrah through the veil of mist.

“Three dozen ships total.” She shouted like we were leagues away instead of a few feet. “All armed and fully manned.”

My stomach hardened. That was more than we assumed Damien had left. “Signal if you need help.”

Crison grinned. “My flock can take a third on its own.”

“And we have reinforcements.” She wheeled backward so we could see the two dozen ships sailing behind her. Each one sailing with royal sails repainted in the colors of the Fractured Isles.

“They came to fight.” Gerarda’s face flushed. “There were enough of them left to come to fight.” El squeezed her shoulder.

“Remember,” I said to Myrrah. “Lead as many as you can into the channel and Feron will take care of the rest.”

She tilted her head with a childish grin on her face. “After I try Nikolai’s canons.”

I reached through the portal and touched the white pin around Myrrah’s neck. “Fight well today, dear friend.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “And you, Keera. So we may never fight again.”

Dynara closed the portal and I turned to Syrra and Elaran. “It’s time.”

Elaran nodded, dressed in all black like a royal soldier. She transformed into the pimply face of the Shield, and Gerarda pinned the forged fastener around her neck. Elaran studied her new body. “I was so angry when Hildegard told me I’d never be a member of the Arsenal. But”—she scratched her throat—“the uniform itches.”

Gerarda and I gave each other a knowing look.

Syrra wrapped a thick cloak around her shoulders and pulled on the hood. In a crowd, she would look like a Mortal man preparing to fight. She pulled me into a tight embrace. “It is an honor to fight alongside you, Keera Waateyith’thir. And to do so clean of both our vices.” She leaned back with tears in her eyes.

There was a hard determination in them that I didn’t like. It was the same look Hildegard had given me when she was dragged in front of Damien’s throne.

“The honor is mine, good friend.” I nodded at the portal Dynara opened. “Take as many of them as you can.”

Syrra nodded and stepped into the city of Koratha.

Dynara closed the portal and opened another for me, sweat already pooling at her brow. I gave her a concerned look, but she shook her head. “You have too much to worry about to fret over me.”

I stepped through and stood beside Feron.

I assessed our ranks from his nest behind them. “Dynara, get your team ready and wait for Syrra’s sign.”

She nodded and disappeared. My stomach hardened trying to ignore the question if that would be the last time I saw my friend. The last time I saw any of them.

“What signal are we waiting for?” Feron mused, his voice calm and collected, as if the entire future of his people would not be decided today.

An ear-splitting shriek tore through the sky as one of the shirak stationed on the walls burst into shadowy pieces. “That,” I answered Feron, pointing to Syrra’s glowing sword.

I took out my spyglass. The Arsenal and the surviving pendants were stationed along the watch platform of the city wall. Their pendants pulsed as they tried to keep their control of the shirak in check.

It didn’t work.

Five of the beasts opened their wings and propelled themselves into the air. The field of Halflings broke out into terrified screams.

I grabbed Feron’s shoulder. “Channel them to one portal!”

He raised his hands and pulled a thick wall of stone from the earth. It split most of the Halflings from the soldiers as a second wall erupted, giving them only two directions to run.

Dynara opened portals on either side and sent the lucky Halflings into Myrelinth.

The unlucky ones were caught in the first attack. One of the shirak sucked in a small breath and blew a fiery spout of death onto the Halflings below.

Feron and I raised stone shields from the ground, protecting most but not all. Grief-stricken screams fused with the screams of terror as a second beast attacked.

“Gerarda, cover the Halflings in shadow,” I commanded.

She lifted her hands, and black shadows flowed down the hill like rushing snowmelt. They joined and stretched, creating a dark fog that kept the Halflings from view. The waateyshir slowed its descent, confused and no longer able to see any movement except for the soldiers lining the city walls.

A portal appeared and Dynara stepped through. “Hurry!” she shouted at Gerarda.

Gerarda placed her palm over her face and chest and left. I held my breath, counting the seconds until I saw proof that they had survived the third fiery spout from the skies.

Nine. Ten. Eleven. A beam of pure light shot from the front lines of battle killing two shirak in its wake. I watched through my spyglass as a third dove for Gerarda. The Arsenal’s pendants glowed bright once more as they took control of the beasts.

The waateyshir whistled as it plummeted toward the ground, filling its chest with enough air for a deadly attack. It spread its wings and Syrra leaped from the wall with her blood-bound blade raised above her head.

Her aim struck true. She pierced the beast’s red center and it exploded into a blast of shadow. Feron raised his hand and Syrra somersaulted onto a ramp of stone.

A low horn blew as Gerarda launched another attack. I turned to the Order to see Damien’s ships charging after Myrrah’s as it sailed into the channel between the island and the city shores. Feron lowered the wall of stone he’d erected along the battlefield, clearing his line of vision.

Crison’s flock of birds slowed the royal ships but not enough. Feron stood, his hands suspended in the air as he waited for the ships to sail over the right spot. His fists clenched. The ground shook as the white wall that surrounded Koratha was joined by its missing half. White stone erupted from the waters, splintering Damien’s fleet to ruin.

Crison gasped for all of us to hear. “Holy shit, that worked.”

“Thanks for the assist,” Myrrah’s voice sounded, and my chest loosened with relief.

Gwyn grabbed my arm as Gerarda felled another waateyshir . “It’s time to send us in.” She turned to Fyrel with their hands joined. My heart ached; they looked nothing like Brenna and me, but on the field of battle, it was like peering into a looking glass of what could have been.

I hugged Gwyn. “You are a warrior today.” I placed my hand on Fyrel’s shoulder. “You both are, and I am honored to fight alongside you.”

Tears welled in Gwyn’s eyes, but she said nothing. She only turned toward the city where Damien was waiting. Fyrel transformed into her bear form, roaring and pounding on her chest. Gwyn climbed on and I soared after them.

I landed beside Gerarda and lost myself in a blur of action. The Arsenal noticed my presence and focused all their strength on me. I flitted between my eagle form and my Fae form, fending attacks from every direction.

The shirak circled above me. The soldiers charged at full speed, their amber pupils bright and pulsing with no care how their movement caught the attention of the hungry beasts. Gerarda and Syrra used the distraction to their advantage. Gerarda ran, drawing the shirak away from the Halflings caught between the soldiers and our ranks. She exaggerated her movements, almost dancing to keep their attention as Syrra climbed the white wall.

I transformed, dodging a fiery blow and a stray sword. I shifted back and used my gusts to pull the air from every soldier’s lungs around me. Three dozen men dropped to the ground.

Two more dropped from the wall. “Leave some for me, Keera,” Elaran teased in my ear as she sent another sentry falling to his death.

I turned and saw a small group of soldiers approaching the portal Dynara had left open. Nikolai stepped through with a shaking sword in his hand.

“Dynara, close the portal!” I shouted, fending off three soldiers of my own. I blocked one swing and saw Nikolai dodge a death blow by a hair. “Someone help Nikolai!” I commanded into the water hanging from my lips.

Dynara appeared at the portal. Her hands glowed as she closed it with Nikolai still on the battlefield. I walked backward trying to make my way to Nik. I slashed my dual blades in all directions.

The gates of Koratha opened again. A flood of fresh soldiers charged through—each with a black eye and amber pupil. I lifted a thick wall of stone from the ground. It cracked along the bottom as I closed my fists. The whirling feeling inside my chest grew to the point of pain, needing release. I raised my arm and sent the strongest gust I could muster against the stone wall.

It teetered along the fracture. I clenched my teeth and kept my gusts pushing against the stone. My vision blurred from the strain as the wall fell and flattened the troops. Dust filled the air, obscuring my small victory.

My stomach sank as the dust settled. More soldiers poured out of Koratha, marching over the stone and their fallen brethren without any regard.

“Do you think I care how many walls you erect and flatten?” a voice called from above.

I recognized Damien’s scowl. It lingered on the face of a pimply faced, broad-shouldered man. The Bow. The only Arsenal member Damien didn’t give a pendant. If the silver bow fastener at his neck didn’t mark him for who he was, the empty chest plate did.

“I have you outnumbered,” Damien said through his Bow. “I have you out-armed. And now—”

The Bow’s gaze shifted to something behind me. I turned. Nikolai was fighting four soldiers. More like prodding. He held two tiny daggers that looked even smaller compared to the soldier’s swords.

One soldier lifted his arm, preparing to levy a heavy blow, and dropped his sword on his own head. The others straightened, turning their own weapons onto themselves. They dropped and their amber pupils faded.

The tether.

Whatever Damien had done, he wasn’t ready to use it yet. My belly tensed as I stabbed my sword through a soldier’s throat.

Fyrel charged toward Nikolai, swatting soldiers in every direction as she carried Syrra on her back. I transformed, soaring over the soldiers and landing on her white fur. There was a second flash of light. I used my earth magic to trap a line of soldiers into dangling roots. Syrra jumped off, running for Nikolai to fight beside him.

The sentries along the wall no longer held bows but spears. Their points dripped in dark purple liquid. Poison. The Bow swung his arm and the first barrage came hurtling toward us. Fyrel turned, swatting the spears from the air like it was nothing. I gripped her fur, trying not to slide from her back.

“Fire at will,” shouted the Bow down at his ranks.

Spear after spear whirled through the air. Each one aimed for Fyrel. She stood on her hind legs, shielding me and swatting bolts with both hands. She twisted, deflecting a spear to the field below.

I dangled from her back and watched as the spear hurtled toward Nikolai instead. “Nikolai!” I cried, letting go of Fyrel.

There was no time for magic. All I could do was watch as Syrra pushed her nephew to his knees. The spear pierced through her chest. Her last breath was barely a gasp as she crumpled to the ground, dead.

Nikolai screamed so violently the shirak above recoiled from the sound. He crawled along the ground and cradled Syrra’s head in his lap.

“Raava,” he whispered through the sobs. “Wake up. Wake up! ”

He reached for Syrra’s blade, left forgotten in a soldier’s chest, as if that would set new life upon her lungs. But as soon as his hand touched the hilt he recoiled back in shock, his fingers burnt and blistered.

The golden sword had faded back to silver. Unclaimed once more.

Thick streams cut into my cheeks, but I couldn’t let the beast above me go.

“Keera,” Gerarda called, running toward two Shades who were holding a shield above their heads, ready for her to jump. I nodded and Gerarda ran. Sprinting like a mountain cat, she leaped onto the shield and was propelled into the sky. I waited until she reached peak height and threw my hands down, pushing her higher with my gusts. Gerarda let out a battle cry as a beam of pure light exploded upward directly into the waateyshir ’s red center. It squealed as it died, fading into nothing as the others fled from Gerarda’s magic.

She landed on top of a soldier and twisted his neck. I didn’t wait to see the body fall. I ran to Syrra and Nikolai. Soldiers ran for us, but thick roots sprang from the earth and pulled them into early graves. I turned and saw Feron lift his faelight along the hill. He would hold the soldiers off long enough to get Nikolai to safety, but we had to be quick.

“Nik, you can’t lay here,” I urged.

He shook his head. “Heal her. Keera, heal her now.”

“Nik.” My lips trembled. “I can’t.”

I pointed to her sword because that was easier than looking at Syrra’s vacant eyes.

“No. No.” Nikolai shook his head with tears streaming down his face. “She died saving me.”

“And there is no other death she would’ve wanted.” I pressed my hand to Nik’s cheek. “There is no greater honor to a warrior than giving your life protecting those you love.”

“No, she wanted to live.” Nikolai wiped his nose. “She wanted to see the world we would build together.”

“No, she didn’t.” I pulled the spear out of her chest and folded her arms. “Syrra made her choice the day she sheared her hair. She knew she was never going to braid it into anyone else’s. Maerhal’s funeral was always going to be her last.”

Nikolai’s face fell. He caressed Syrra’s smooth head, and he let out one last sob, finally seeing the truth of what his aunt had planned. To die for her people—to undo her biggest regret. She never wanted to be a survivor again.

A glowing thread of amber appeared beside Nikolai. It dissolved into a veil of mist as Dynara stepped through the portal.

Nikolai’s shoulders drooped as he picked Syrra up under her legs and her back. He looked like he was cradling a babe in his arms. My heart tore. It was so unfair that Nikolai would bury the two mothers he had ever known, the two ikwenira who had held him just like that as a sleeping child. His son, his mother, and now his aunt. Nikolai had joined the rest of us and become the last of his bloodline.

My jaw flexed. I wouldn’t let that bloodline die today.

He stepped through the portal to safety and Dynara closed it behind him. She held two small blades and gave me a hard look. She planned on staying. “You need as many as are able.”

“Have a portal ready.” There was a flash of light and I took flight above her head.

The Halflings who hadn’t picked up fallen swords to fight had congregated along the edges of the battlefield. Only a small line of soldiers stood between them and our fighters. I let out a loud screech and hoped Dynara knew to track me through the skies. I tucked in my wings and dove for the soldiers. There was another flash of light, and I landed on the middle man’s shoulders, perched like a bird, with my dagger through his neck.

I didn’t kill the others with steel. Instead I cast a line of hot flame as tall as the white wall that surrounded the city and turned them to ash. Dynara was there in an instant. Her fingers still lit from her own portal as she opened another, four people wide.

“Run!” I shouted at the Halflings, ushering them through. I scooped up four children into my arms and handed them to anyone able-bodied enough to carry them.

There was a flash of red curls behind them as Gwyn tackled a soldier to the ground. Two others fell to the side, Elaran’s arrows sticking out from their chests. They both pointed their weapons to the sky as a waateyshir plummeted toward us.

I tried to conjure water from the air, but it was too dry under the fiery canopy. I turned to Gwyn. “Create a storm!”

She gave me a sideways glance. “The smoke will just melt it away.”

“I know.”

Gwyn didn’t need to be told again. She wiped her mouth, smearing blood across her face, and painted a rune into the air. When the amber light fused together into a gold spell, she pushed it toward the sky. As if from nothing, the spell transformed into gray clouds, growing wider and wider under the thick smoke. The snow had barely begun to fall when it liquified to water instead. That was all I needed.

I spread the water thin and waited for one of the shirak to fly beneath it. I took all my focus, but I wrapped the water around the beast mid-dive, trapping it in a liquid cage. Its shriek was muffled by the water, wings stretching, trying to find its way out. I fisted my hand and the orb turned to ice.

I looked to Gerarda but she was already running. The frozen orb dropped with the beast inside it, shattering on the ground as its shadow leaked out in all directions. Gerarda used her own shadow magic to blend into the darkness. The waateyshir didn’t even know she was there until she punched her fist through its heart. Light erupted from its chest and the creature exploded into tiny pieces.

A chorus of deadly shrieks filled the sky. There were still over a dozen of the monsters left.

Gerarda kneeled to catch her breath. Her magic was almost spent.

“We’ve bested the other line.” Elaran’s voice rang out in my ear.

Dynara nodded without a word, disappearing through a portal to take the rest of the Halflings to safety. I tracked the beasts in the sky, waiting for one to attack.

The doors to Koratha opened once more. Tall catapults crawled out of the opening while thousands more soldiers marched at their feet.

“Did Damien sell everything except his throne?” Gerarda seethed. She held two short blades in her hands and snarled up at the first catapult.

The Arrow rode the machine like the crow’s nest of a ship. His silver fastener gleamed in the light of the torches from the troop below. He raised his hand and the catapult sent a cascade of molten rock and purple flame through our ranks.

It was chaos. People lunged in every direction to avoid being hit. The Arrow sent his men running after us. The pendant along his chest shone bright and the lowest of the waateyshirak seemed to calm as they watched the chaos unfold.

Gwyn launched arrow after arrow. I used my gusts to send them farther into the ranks of our enemy, lighting their tips just before they hit. The earth shook, and Feron split the ground in two. The unprepared soldiers fell into the giant chasm and were crushed as Feron sealed it as quickly as he had created it. It killed a third of their men, but our magic wouldn’t hold out for much longer.

Black cloaks led the second charge. The silver shield and dagger gleamed along their necks, but they didn’t wear a glowing pendant. I gritted my teeth. Damien was still keeping one for himself even while his entire city died for him.

Dynara appeared behind the young Shield. The young man didn’t stand a chance. She pounced on his back, his throat red with blood before he hit the ground. She spun her arm and jumped upward into another portal and fell from the sky on top of the Dagger.

I turned to Gerarda. “What have you been teaching her?”

She stabbed her blade through a distracted sellsword. “Efficiency.”

The Dagger collapsed before Dynara could land her blow and they both tumbled to the ground. He reached for his sword but an arrow pierced his eye. He lay dead. Elaran nodded at me and lowered her bow.

Gwyn ran toward the catapult. Elaran used her arrows to clear a path as one of the waateyshirak dove toward us, but it wasn’t quick enough.

Fyrel jumped over all of us. The soldiers froze in their boots as she swatted them into oblivion.

“Throw me!” Gerarda shouted at Fyrel.

The brumal bear turned its head and grabbed Gerarda between its claws, her tiny frame like a thorn caught in its foot. Fyrel snapped her wrist and launched Gerarda into the skies. The waateyshirak opened its beak, whistling as it sucked in a deadly breath. Gerarda’s hand grabbed the bottom jaw and aimed her fist at the beast’s red chest.

It roared as it exploded into nothing.

“Set those things on fire!” Gerarda shouted as I broke her landing on a soft gust.

I raised my hand, but Gwyn’s voice echoed in my ear. “Let me try something first.”

She stood at the bottom of the catapult. Her fingers glowed amber as she wrote a rune along the wooden shaft. The spell took hold and the catapult transformed. The wood groaned, growing taller than the palace to form a monstrous tree. The violet flames from the neighboring catapults set the leaves aflame as it grew so the entire canopy was a raging ball of magical flame.

Gwyn was a genius. In one spell she had created a weapon worth more than ten of my attacks. I kneeled, using my earth gift to keep the tree’s roots from taking hold. “Gwyn, run!” I shouted and then I cast one immense gust at the trunk.

The tree teetered back then forward—unsure of which direction it wanted to fall. I gritted my teeth and kept a heavy wind against its trunk until my brow was covered in sweat. Finally, the tree fell, creaking like a funeral hymn as it landed through the wall.

It took most of the lookout with it, though the Bow had evaded death by an inch. His chest swelled as he looked down at the rubble and flattened bodies. Then he turned to me and his black eyes flashed with amber.

Damien snarled down at me. I stretched my arms wide, tempting him to jump from the wall like he had in our shared dream. It would save me killing Hildegard’s successor.

Gerarda came to my side as the soldiers circled around us, trying to pin our fighters in. The Arrow appeared from the dust cloud at the base of the tree. Somehow unharmed.

His pendant glowed. He wanted us to be an easy target for the shirak and we had walked right into his trap. Exhaustion trampled through my body. If my own powers were weakening, then Gerarda and Gwyn were almost spent.

“How many more can you kill?”

Gerarda blocked a sword aimed for her neck. “Don’t worry about me.”

“How many?” I echoed as I gutted a soldier’s belly.

Gerarda huffed a breath. “One. Maybe two.”

I could almost hear Damien’s laugh. This is what he had wanted—that we would expend our energy fighting the shirak and be left defenseless when his men came for our heads. Fyrel ran toward us in her brumal bear form. She swatted the soldiers out of the way, roaring in their faces until they fell back in fear and she stomped them into dust. Then she shifted back into her Fae form.

“I don’t think I can hold that much longer,” she wheezed, bent at the waist.

My heart throbbed against my chest, drowning out my thoughts. There were no other options. We had done everything we could, and we were failing.

Dynara opened a portal in front of six soldiers charging at her in a line. All six ran through it, plummeting from its opening in the sky before they realized what she’d done. She wiped her hands and closed the portal as the shirak snatched the men mid-fall. Blood splattered on my face as two beasts ripped one of the men in half.

Gwyn tackled two more soldiers, skewering them both through the middle. Fyrel swung at the second and missed as he fell to the ground with Gwyn’s sword in his belly. “I’ve got you this time,” Gwyn mused, pressing a soft kiss to Fyrel’s lips. The girl’s face broke into a wide smile despite her exhaustion. Even standing in a field full of dead Elverin and Mortals, Fyrel couldn’t contain her excited giggle, but it turned into panic as two shadowy beasts plummeted toward us.

“Brace!” I shouted to Gerarda. She lifted her arms above her head without hesitation. I jumped, changing forms mid-leap, and wrapped my talons around her arm. I beat my wings as fast and hard as I could—trying to get Gerarda high enough to land one more attack before the beasts had a chance to use their fiery blast.

The shirak barely noticed us, cloaked in Gerarda’s shadows, as I flew between them. The biggest opened its beak and started to whistle. One of Damien’s soldiers used the chance to fling another round of flaming rock onto the field, pummeling his soldiers along with ours. I let Gerarda go and transformed midair, pulling a wall of rock from the ground.

An explosion of light burst behind me, illuminating just how many flaming rocks had made it past my shield and Feron’s. My stomach clenched as the screams of heartbreak sounded from our ranks, drowning out the dying shrieks of the shirak Gerarda had vanquished.

I transformed back into my eagle form to land and found Gerarda collapsed and trying to stand on shaking legs.

Gwyn spelled two soldiers to attack their own men, taunting them with her laughter as Fyrel swung between them. I turned to help Gerarda but saw what Gwyn had not.

Dynara stood behind her, fighting a soldier who had followed her through a portal that was still open. A second man stepped through, and his spelled comrade swung for his head.

“No!” I shouted as Fyrel swiped the man’s legs with her own. She smiled at me, proud and self-assured, as the spelled soldier’s axe struck her head. I dove for the girl, trying to touch her skin before her body hit the ground.

But I was too late. Fyrel stared back at me, a ghost of a smile still on her face as her amber eyes faded and she rolled onto her back wearing an axe for a crown.

Gwyn let out a bloodcurdling scream. Her hands glowed as she pulled at her hair and spells drifted into the air like snow. One turned dark, growing and growing, until a swirling storm cracked with thunder. It tore down Damien’s ranks, flinging the remaining catapults and the soldiers manning them against the city wall. Red splotches covered the white stone like raindrops on a cobble street.

The waateyshirak under Damien’s control lined the wall like horses tied down to posts. They fought against the magic binding them, snapping and hungry as they watched the chaos down below.

But Gwyn didn’t care. She didn’t even notice. She ran for the soldier who had swung the axe and stabbed him in his black eye. She plucked it from his skull and crushed it with her boot. But that wasn’t good enough. Her lips curled over her fangs as the rampage began. She slew soldier after soldier, claiming each of their eyes and turning them to dust.

Then she spotted the Arrow.

“Gwyn, no!” I chased after her with Dynara at my side. She portaled us closer to Gwyn, ready to fight the Arrow alongside her, but Gwyn was writing spells into the air. This time they didn’t turn gold but black. She thrust her hands forward, and the spells latched onto the neck of the Arrow and the ten soldiers beside him. They grabbed their throats, the magic burning their flesh like roasting chains.

“Damien!” Gwyn screamed as she plunged her finger into the Shield’s eye socket. She pulled the black eye out of his head, leaving the man to fall to his knees. Gwyn started tracing a rune along the eye. She chanted words even I didn’t know, nose bleeding a waterfall of amber and gold blood.

“Gwyn, stop,” I begged, but it was no use. I didn’t think she could hear me at all. The rune sealed and turned black too. She held it up, squeezing it, and dozens of soldiers fell to their knees along the city wall. Each one with a black eye. The Arrow’s pendant faded as he writhed in pain. I looked up and saw the new Blade bent over in agony too.

“You will carry the pain of every person you have ever hurt,” Gwyn shouted at Damien. Even though he was somewhere in his palace, I knew he was writhing in pain too.

All the waateyshirak were in the sky now with no one using the pendants. They could smell the desperation and pain like sharks out for blood. Even though most of Damien’s soldiers were dead, we were no match for the waateyshirak. We had nothing left to fight them. All our resources were spent. We needed Damien to tame them or every surviving Elverin and Mortal were going to become their feast.

Gwyn had to be stopped.

I clenched my jaw and called that whirling power inside my chest. A small gust formed at Gwyn’s mouth, growing just enough to pull the air from her lungs. Her eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed with betrayal as she turned to me.

“I’m so sorry,” I shouted, hot tears running down my face. Dynara caught Gwyn in her arms as she fell limp and pulled her through a portal. The soldiers stopped writhing in pain. Some clambered to their feet. The Arrow stood, pendant alight, and groaned as he used all his power to quell the shirak once more. The circle of beasts tightened and their snarls grew louder but none of them dove. I only hoped Damien’s tenuous control could hold.

I picked up a dead soldier’s waterskin and poured the contents out. My body ached as I used my magic to form a sphere and let it hover along the remaining city wall. “I speak directly to your king.” My voice echoed through the debris and into the city. “Damien, you have proved your strength is too mighty. Let us claim our dead, and my people will surrender.”

The Arrow’s eye turned bright amber. “You think I will let you live after what you have done?” He scoffed. “You have destroyed my city. Killed hundreds of my people, thousands of my soldiers. Their blood is on your hands.”

“Then kill me,” I said in a calm, even tone. “Give us an hour to collect our dead, and I will walk out here willingly and unarmed.”

Damien crossed his arms. “Why should I believe you?”

“What do you have to lose?” I shrugged. “We can fight until the city is nothing but rubble, or you can agree to the hour.”

“It seems you get much more than I do in this arrangement.” He lifted a brow. “Why give you the chance to flee?”

Hot towers of flame stood behind me and the sky cracked with lightning. “I have enough magic left to wipe this city to the ground, but even I cannot defeat the waateyshirak you have left. Accept my terms and your people shall not suffer anymore. Show us mercy, and I will show them mercy. Deny my request, and you will be a king of no one.”

Concerned whispers started behind the city walls. Soon they grew into pleas of mercy that echoed out onto the battlefield.

Damien scowled, knowing he was left with no better option.

“One hour.”