Page 19

Nineteen

Ayna

Late afternoon isn’t my favorite time of the day for an attack, especially when we’re closing in on the enemy from the northeast and the low-hanging sun glares at us with relentless intensity. That’s the other reason Tata is leading her soldiers in from the west. They will have the sun at their backs, and even this thin advantage is one we need to play when we don’t know exactly what we’re going up against.

For most of the hike north, I was fluttering above Myron and Kaira, happy to share their silence as I pondered how I could make myself useful without getting in the way. Herinor was right—I need to stay away from airborne weapons, be it arrows or magic. That’s why I asked Kaira to drop the mind link so she and I could make plans without making Myron’s heart stop.

The forest we’ve reached is a perfect hiding spot from the army, the boots of which I can hear at the seam of the trees a mile ahead. Erina’s forces are making their way south, and we’re letting them. Only once they meet Tata’s units will we strike.

“Are you afraid?” Kaira asks into my mind, adjusting her position on the branch where she’s sitting next to me high up in a tree.

My gaze drifts to Myron, who’s in his bird form, like the rest of the Crows, and is perching on the branch above mine with Royad, Silas, and Herinor flanking him. Recienne is crouching in a nearby tree, surveying the forest with his magic as if he’s been doing exactly that for all his life.

“Afraid is a strong word.”

That teases a soundless chuckle out of Kaira. “Are you concerned we might not survive the day?”

“Again, concerned is a strong word after everything we’ve been through and survived.” I try not to think of being stuck in this form; being proof I’m obviously not immortal and surviving any of it might not matter if I can’t figure out how to fulfill Shaelak’s demand. “But if things do go wrong, please make sure Andraya and Pouly continue to lead the rebels until Tavras is free of Erina. Perhaps take my throne for me. You’re not a Milevishja, but you are my blood.”

Big brown eyes rest on my bird form, surprise, dismay, and a bit of an accusation lingering there. “Stop talking like you’ve already given up.”

“Even if we win today, there’s no guarantee I’ll ever be in any condition to sit on my Tavrasian throne.”

Kaira has nothing to say to that, but the dismay vanishes from her gaze.

“Could you link me to Myron for a moment?” I ask instead of pushing for her to accept or promise me something she isn’t ready or willing to give because what I have to tell my mate is a long shot, but it’s the only idea I was able to come up with while the others have been talking battle strategies and gearing up for slaughter.

“I remember your promise, Myron,” I tell him the moment the link hums into place, clamping down on the quiver in my tone—even that of my thoughts. I can feel him still, his presence in my mind unwavering and solid through Kaira’s gift, and when I speak those next words to him, I need to force myself to ignore that my sister will hear every last one of them. “And I’ve got an idea.”

Kaira pretends not to be listening, and gods bless her for that kindness as I swallow my nervousness and the real reason I am terrified of this battle and how it ends.

Myron can’t speak through this connection the way Kaira and I can, but I feel him hold his breath anyway.

“I promise you, Myron of Winghaven, to become immortal if I survive this battle so we can have a tomorrow and you can fulfill your own promise.”

I’m trying not to think of what that promise entails as I wait for that thread of ancient magic to spool itself out of me and connect with the ball of yarn that seems to be the magic of all bargains and promises made in the past and yet to be made in the future, as I wait for my words to become a true Crow promise and binding.

When I dare face Kaira once more, her eyes are wide, and her mouth stands open like she forgot to close it.

“Don’t tell anyone,” I ask her before I feel the link to Myron’s mind drop and her attention drift to the fading sound of rhythmical footsteps as the last of Erina’s troops passes the forest, disappearing right toward Tata’s and Tori’s waiting units.

For long moments, we wait, listening to the wind sweeping through what’s left of the autumn leaves, to the wildlife scurrying across the ground on efficient paws and claws and hoofs while my stomach folds into a tight knot with every heartbeat this battle draws closer. A dark breeze snakes along the branches, carrying Recienne’s soft voice. “Time to get ready,” he murmurs, and judging by the way the others are twitching, they hear him, too.

Convenient as speaking into someone’s mind, that creepy gift of his.

Without further warning, he disappears from his branch and reappears between Kaira and me, holding out a hand to each of us and gesturing with his chin for the Crows to hop onto his shoulders. The moment Kaira’s hand lays in his and the rest of us have our claws securely dug into his leathers, he spirits us to the edge of the forest from where the army is a stripe of darkness disappearing on the graying horizon. The river is a flaming orange band weaving south right where the forest turns into grassy plains. Recienne can’t have taken us farther than half a mile, but the faint sounds of battle ring in my ears like I’m standing at the center of the melee of clashing blades and battle cries.

A cold shiver creeps along my skin, making my feathers puff up.

So they’ve found Tata’s soldiers, and judging by the noise, they aren’t relying solely on magic.

Recienne crouches behind a tree, the Crows fluttering to the bare branches above while Kaira and I remain on the ground close by the Fairy King’s side. I doubt anyone is paying attention when they’re all bound in battle, but if I’ve learned anything from the encounters with Erina and his allies, it’s to always expect the unexpected. I duck closer behind the tree, claws slithering across the moist leaves. Above me, Myron gives a soft caw, a summoning I don’t follow even when I know my place will be up in the skies soon enough.

Bright light flashes in the distance as Tori and his own troops open their attack across the river, sparks flying high where fire bounces off fairy shields. I wish I was close enough to see what is happening with their magic, if they are being hit by drug-coated arrows or if they can actually use their powers.

It’s the big unknown in this ambush, the one factor that makes it near-impossible to anticipate how many troops we’ll need to take down Erina’s soldiers. If only half of our own are hit with the drug, we’ll have a unit of shaking and vomiting fairies, useless for battle, easy to pick off one by one by Erina’s men.

“We need to act before it comes to that,” Kaira agrees through our connection as she establishes the mind-link between all of us once more so we can communicate in battle.

“On my signal.” Recienne draws his sword with one hand, taking Kaira’s with the other. “The two of us site-hop in. The rest of you fly in. Make sure you don’t get hit by arrows or fire.”

It’s a useless order when neither of us intends to come anywhere near enemy missiles, magical or otherwise. But it shows how much Recienne cares even when all emotions have been wiped from his face, leaving behind the cold and deadly Fairy King, who will sacrifice anything to protect his realm and his mate.

“Be careful,” I whisper before he disappears, taking my sister with him into harm’s way, and much as I hate it, I know she is in good hands with him, as safe as anyone could be on a battlefield.

Herinor doesn’t seem to be as confident in the Fairy King’s skills because he’s already soaring after them to the edge of the battle where Recienne and Kaira have popped up, taking down soldiers with arrows.

Silas and Royad follow suit, only Myron waiting for me to take off. The moment I’m airborne, he’s at my side, powerful wings beating air which now tastes of blood and death.

Herinor is already shifting back into his fae form, silver light flooding the seam of the battle, taking down a row of soldiers in its wake.

Something loosens in my chest at this proof that not all of the soldiers are wearing serum-coated armor, even if they all are dressed in the same, dull gray, leather headpieces covering all but their features. As we approach the northern rim of the battlefield, I can see Tori’s forces across the river, their magic spearing for Erina’s army and not doing much damage. The same is true for Tata’s side in the south where all soldiers have resorted to fighting with their blades while they duck around assaults of fire magic. So they do have Flames in their ranks.

That will make things difficult, even with Tori’s men sending assaults of water into the battle, dousing the fires where they sear into our lines.

Myron banks right, to the northwestern side of the enemy army. We’re high enough to be out of the arrows’ reach, but not for much longer. On the ground, fairy blood is soaking the soil red on Tata’s line, and if we want to aid her troops, we’ll need to push through the army.

Below, Recienne and Herinor are striking with their magic, taking down soldier after soldier while Kaira is already setting a trap. Silas and Royad are slicing into soldier after soldier, a silver shield glowing around both of them that keeps out arrows and magic—for now.

Already, soldiers are shouting for the weapon . Already, formations are changing, bringing the fighters unprotected by the magic-nullifying armor closer to the center so a band of those who are wearing it meet the Crows first. My chest tightens as Myron joins them on the ground, shifting as he lands with easy grace, death in his eyes and silver and black mingling at his fingertips as he hurls his power at the enemy.

Not at the front lines but right at those who are now hiding at the center of the army. They fall like cut wheat stalks.

A chance—we’ve got a chance at ending this quickly if we follow his lead, go for the ones who are hiding behind the protective lines of better-equipped soldiers. Recienne immediately picks up on Myron’s tactic, sending a dark wind into the enemy army like a comb, severing heads where his power isn’t dulled by drug-coated leathers.

“Ready?” Kaira draws my attention while I circle back here where arrows still can’t reach, and where she’s drawing out two of the soldiers, siphoning the fire they are sending her way and throwing it into a shield of flame they easily walk through. But that’s what she wants them to do. To feel confident they have the upper hand, that the part-Flame is oblivious to the advantage they have with that cursed armor of theirs … so we can strike right when they are certain she’ll be easily picked off.

Herinor shifts into the space behind the soldiers on instinct, cutting them off from their army, making himself useful in a way we hadn’t anticipated. Not to help me, of course, but to protect Kaira from more assailants than she can handle at once.

Noiselessly, I dart from the skies, right for one of the soldier’s eyes, ripping them out with an efficient tear of my claws while Kaira cuts the other soldier’s throat with a swing of her dagger. The male goes down with a gurgle of blood while my victim is screaming at the top of his lungs, blindly batting at me with his slender silver blade.

I’m back in the air before any arrows can find their mark, and Kaira’s shield holds as they rain upon her—perhaps the silver layer Herinor has thrown up and which is now sizzling against Kaira’s wall of fire helps. I don’t dare glance back to confirm. Kaira is already looping the fire around the next soldier, teasing him away from the bulk of the battle while Herinor makes way for the poor lad whose eyes I’ll take next. Royad and Silas are standing back-to-back, their swords and hatchet gleaming crimson in the light of the setting sun spilling across the field like a river of blood itself.

Tori’s units are still sending splashes of water into the steaming battle wherever flames dance among the soldiers, and I consider it a small mercy that their powers don’t reach far enough to take out Kaira’s intercepted fire.

A wide grin spreads on the face of the next man stepping through the burning curtain of magic, gaze sliding up and down Kaira’s form with surprised delight, lingering on her chest, her hips, for a moment too long to be merely assessing an opponent. I don’t give him time to speak his vile thoughts before I spear for his face, wishing I could go for the artery at the side of his neck instead so he could see who is taking his life, but I’m careful not to get too close to the leather lest it be coated in the drug. I have no idea what contact with the magic-nullifying serum would do to me when I already don’t have access to my power, but I’d rather not test it during battle.

“Cut his throat, will you?” I tell Kaira as I claw my way into the sockets of his eyes, digging deep before I rip them out.

The man’s scream ends abruptly as not Kaira’s blade but Herinor’s severs the man’s neck, almost shoving me along with the force of it.

Shouting a caw at him, I rise back into the sky, out of the reach of drug-coated arrows. Herinor wipes a bunch of them from the air like a swarm of annoying insects before he turns back to the battle.

“Always making sure you’re not helping me, aren’t you?” I growl after him, but he ignores my remark. There’s no need to when it’s clear that that extra shove was to abide by the bargain he made by hindering me rather than aiding me in his taking down the enemy.

From up here, I can make out the mass of dead soldiers at the center of the battlefield, the ring of magically equipped ones fighting around them in thinning lines.

We’re winning. And despite the losses on Tata’s end, the Crows on this side haven’t even broken a sweat. This will be over in no time.

Hope blooms in my chest as I dive for the next soldier Kaira separates for us, careful to avoid the arrows flying for me. By now, Erina’s men have figured out that the danger isn’t merely coming from the ground and the other side of the river but that I’m a danger, too. A small one, but any enemy taken down is a win, right? So they are coming for Kaira and me, and her firewall won’t hold for long when they start pushing.