Page 39 of Stormvein

“Ellie.” Varam turns his attention to me once he’s done. “I want you to remain here with Kiran. We need someone in a high position, with a clear view of the gap. You will be able to warn us if something changes.”

It also keeps me out of the fight.

“I need to be closer. What if something goes wrong? What if you need?—”

“What weneedis to know our flanks are secure. If you lose control of that light, and they see it, we could lose the only chance we have to get him back.” His expression softens slightly. “I know you want to help. This is how you do it.”

I want to argue, to insist that my place is down there with them, but the memory of the storm I unleashed at River Crossing silences me. That devastation came from grief, from watching Sacha fall.

What might happen if I lose control again, this time with him so close? Could I control the storm enough not to get him hurt in its fury?

No, Varam’s right. My poweristoo unpredictable. It’s liable to manifest without warning. I’ve made some progress under Telren’s guidance, but nowhere near enough to be of any use here today.

“All right … but if something goes wrong?—”

“Nothingis going to go wrong. This is something we’ve lived with all our lives. We know what we’re doing, Ellie. This isn’t our first ambush.” Varam checks his weapons one final time. “The scouts report the convoy entered the southern approach an hour ago. They’ll reach the narrowest point by mid-morning. That’s when we’ll hit them.”

The archers disappear up narrow paths toward elevated ground. The rest of the fighters move stealthily down the slope toward the point where the convoy will come through. They’llcut off escape once the wagons are fully committed to the passage.

Kiran leads me to our position—a rocky outcropping that offers a clear view of the entire valley while keeping us hidden. The mist stalker follows, settling down beside me.

“We’ll be able to see everything from here.” He’s clearly uncomfortable with his babysitting duty, but too disciplined to complain. “We’re far enough away that your …” His eyes move to my arms. “No one will see anything from this distance.”

The gap stretches out below us, the road winding between the towering cliffs that nearly meet overhead in places. In the narrowest sections, sunlight barely breaks through, creating pools of shadows between columns of gold. From here, I can see our fighters settling into place—dark shapes against stone, arrows nocked and waiting.

Hours pass in tense silence. The sun climbs higher, harsh light bouncing off the crystals in blinding flashes. My fingers find Sacha’s ring again, tracing its edge through my tunic.

With nothing else to do but wait, I can’t avoid the memories that surface. Sacha teaching me to control my breathing. The way shadow pooled around him when he finally stepped outside of the tower. The intensity in his eyes that night in Ashenvale.

Somewhere down there, he’s coming toward us. Alive, but suffering. That’s what the Authority captain said. The thought sends a sharp current through me.

“They’re coming,” Kiran whispers, pointing toward the southern entrance of the gap.

I follow his gaze. A convoy of wagons appears in the distance, moving slowly along the road. Even from here, I can see the mounted guards surrounding the central wagon that carries a metal structure … Acage, I realize with mounting horror. I don’t know how I imagined they’d be transporting him, but a cage definitely wasn’t it.

The mist stalker stirs beside me, its form shifting and flexing. It rises to its feet, but remains in a crouch, muscle and sinew rippling beneath its skin. Its eyes are fixed on the approaching convoy with a predatory focus.

“Easy,” I whisper, although I’m not sure if it understands me.

Its head turns toward me, unblinking eyes meeting mine. There’s intelligence in their depths, an understanding that goes beyond animal instinct. I’m not convinced it’s an animal at all, but something else entirely. For a brief moment, I’m sure something brushes against my mind. A foreign sensation, like fingers touching the surface of my thoughts.

The convoy enters the bottleneck, and the guards fan out, scanning the cliffs, hands on weapons, alert to the vulnerability of their position. In the cage, I can just about make out a shape … a body, lying unnaturally still.

Sacha.

Every bit of my attention locks on his form. The silver stirs again, but something else rises with it. A more insistent pushing against my mind, accompanied by a low sound from the mist stalker.

It wants to move, to act. And I can feel the urgency inside me like it’s my own.

“Stay.” The command is both to myself and the creature. It lets out a soft huff in reply.

The convoy proceeds cautiously. From my position, I can see our archers tensing, bowstrings drawn, waiting for Varam’s signal. The blocking force stays hidden, ready to seal off the road once the wagons are too far in to go back.

Everything is going according to plan … until it isn’t.

Movement catches my eye, and I turn my head, scanning the horizon. A flash of silver on the ridge to the south. And then I see them. Too many figures. Too organized to be anything but Authority soldiers.

“Oh no! Kiran!” I point. “Look!”