Page 82 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

“I know,” I say, guilt dropping my shoulders. “We’ve been sending food, but everything gets burned before it reaches the people who need it. I’m so sorry.”

“Just as I don’t blame you for Nameah’s death, nor do I blame you for this.” She takes my hand, squeezing it firmly. “But I do request your aid.”

“Of course. We’re here to help.”

“How many of you are there?” Darian asks, eyeing the pile of remaining bodies like one of them might start walking.

“Including my family, seven total,” she replies. “When they attacked, we fell back, deciding it wasn’t worth it to cross the valley.”

“We used the bodies of the fallen to hide,” one of Nameah’s sisters says with a shudder. “Gross, I know.”

“It was smart thinking,” I reassure her, turning back to her mother. “Where’s your eldest son?”

Her face darkens. “He enlisted in the army shortly after you left Rimor. We have not heard from him in several months.”

Pain lances through me for her, for the possibility of another child lost.

“Let’s get you to safety,” Darian says, taking inventory of who we have to protect.

“Can any of you fight?” I ask.

Nameah’s other brother nods along with two others in the group. I craft shadow blades and hand them out, willing them to stay solid in their grip.

We pass out daggers to the rest as I explain, “Those with swords stay on the outside of the group. If any of you see crimson eyes, stab first, think second. If you hesitate, you die.”

“If any of you possess offensive Gifts, use them,” Darian pants. His normal mask of cold indifference has slipped, revealing the sweat-drenched brow and heaving chest of a truly exhausted male.

Our group begins the trek out of the forest, my shadows swirling around us, Ryder’s wind howling as we head for the city gate. It’s a slower trip back than it was out here, but we maintain a jog to get us across the field.

It takes all of two minutes inside the city for us to encounter our first attack. Thankfully, it’s only a group of three, and we’re able to dispatch them with no casualties to our group.

It’s when we reach the halfway mark that all hell breaks loose.

I turn a corner, and the rest of the group follows me into a narrow alley. My feet come to a halt, the breath leaving my lungs.

What appears to be their entire force stands less than three hundred feet away. Their weapons are pointed straight at me, eyes glowing as they stare us down.

“Queen of Shadows, how lovely to finally make your acquaintance,” the one in front bellows, and my gods is his voice melodic. I’m nearly brought to my knees listening to him speak.

I turn back down the alley, facing the group as dread rises in me.

In a hushed voice, I say, “You are going to turn around and take the long way back to the stronghold. Once you get out of this alley, you are going to run like hell and not stop. Don’t look back, don’t cry out, just run. Ryder, Zion, Darian, and I will hold them off as long as we’re able.”

Nameah’s mother shakes her head, trying to refuse my command.

“There is no time for arguing. I may not have been able to save Nameah, but I will not let her family suffer the same fate. You must live,” I command.

Tears fill her eyes as she nods, turning the group around. My shadows follow them; their protection should last until they reach the stronghold, but they’ll weaken the further they get from me.

“Why don’t you tell your friends to join us?” the Fae male, their General, I assume, yells.

“Breyla, this is suicide,” Darian argues, fear flashing in his navy-blue eyes.

“It’s our only option, and you know it,” I reply. “Something tells me they want me alive.”

“And something tells me you shouldn’t be listening to whatever voice is telling you that.”

I ignore him, turning to Ryder and Zion. “You’ve been with me from the very start. Thank you.”

“We’re with you,” Ryder says.

“From our first breath,” Zion adds.

“Until our very last,” I finish, pulling them into a tight hug.

I step back into the street, facing the General and the army behind him.

Darian and I stand center, flanked by Ryder and Zion, as I call out, “What are your demands?”

The front line stands with arrows notched and aimed directly at us, awaiting his command.

I have no way of knowing if the others made it to safety, but I feel my shadows snap, my connection severed as they pass out of range. The moment it happens, more shadows start to gather at my feet, forming into arrows of my own making, as the general speaks.

“My demand is simple.” He grins, the expression sinister and dark. “I want you, Queen of Shadows.”

“I have a name and that isn’t it,” I snap.

“Oh, but it is. It’s the only one that matters, anyway.”

“My name is Breyla. Come on, you can say it,” I taunt, trying to keep him talking. “Brey-luh.” I exaggerate the syllables like I’m talking to a toddler.

He chuckles. “It matters not what you call yourself as long as you come quietly.”

“Yeah…” I hesitate, raising the shadow arrows from the ground and pointing them at the army. “I won’t be doing that,” I grunt, unleashing them in one swift strike.

Several hit their targets, but most are blocked.

The general tuts. “You should not have done that.” He whistles a high, sharp note, and their arrows fly.

I duck, throwing up a shield of shadow at the last minute. When I’m sure the last arrow has flown, I survey the damage.

“No,” I gasp when my eyes find Zion to my left.

An arrow is lodged dead center of his torso. Poisoned or not, it doesn’t matter. Where the arrow has punctured, he will bleed out in minutes.

“I’m so sorry, my friend,” I cry, dropping to my knees by Zion’s head. I wrap his hand in mine, squeezing tightly as I look into his eyes for the last time.

Blood bubbles in from the corner of his lips, and he just shakes his head, giving me a soft smile.

“May the gods grant you peace,” I whisper as his eyes lose focus, glazing over as his soul finally slips away.

“I grow impatient with your games, Queen of Shadows. Consider that a warning for disobeying my request,” the Fae general sneers.

I wipe the tears off my cheeks, smearing Zion’s blood across my face in the process.

“Hasn’t anyone told you?” I snarl as I stand, my sword raised and ready for attack. “I’m terrible at following orders.”

The general’s voice softens, almost coaxing. “Then how about I make you a deal instead?” the general purrs. Something in his tone sets me on high alert. “I won’t kill your companions if you come peacefully.”

It sounds good in theory, but somehow, I know he’s lying.

“Sorry,” Darian shouts, stepping forward. “If you want Breyla, you’ll have to go through us.”

“Very well.” The general shrugs, falling back into line.

“Can you Travel us?” I whisper to Darian as the enemy advances.

“Not all of us. And not far. I’m nearly drained.”

“Fuck.”

We can’t run, or we risk them following and slaughtering the rest of the city.

“Together we fight,” Ryder says.

“Together we die,” Darian agrees.

“But we take as many with us as we can on our way out,” I finish.

Together, the three of us charge the line of Fae, knowing we won’t walk out of here again.

We manage to cut down five of them before someone drives a sword through Ryder’s chest. My shadows retaliate instantly, slicing through his killer’s neck and severing his head from his body. There’s no time to respond to his loss before the next attacker is on me.

Darian and I fall into rhythm, fighting back-to-back as bodies drop around us. Until it’s just us, surrounded by a circle of corpses

“Well, this has been entertaining,” the general drawls, a mixture of boredom and annoyance plastered across his too-perfect face. “But we’re done appeasing your tantrum.”

The strangest thing about this entire fight is that it felt like the enemy was holding back. They were fighting to subdue, not to kill. Like a cat playing with a mouse before it’s eaten.

Several archers aim arrows at Darian, and the general snaps his fingers. “Kill him.”

I make a reckless decision that I pray is right, that my instincts were correct in believing they have orders to bring me back alive.

I throw myself in front of Darian. I’m smaller than he is, but I cover enough of him that they don’t have a clear shot. “If you want to kill him, you’ll have to kill me first.”

“What are you doing, Breyla?” Darian hisses under his breath.

“Saving your life.”

He curses, wrapping his arm around me.

The general tilts his head, contemplating his response before he finally says, “Hm, I suppose we could make use of the Prudian general.”

I barely hear the words as I feel the tug of Darian’s magic. He’s preparing to jump.

“Take them both,” the general commands.

The searing pain is all I register as I look down to find an arrow protruding from my gut. Another has struck the arm Darian wrapped around me.

It must be poisoned with something because my vision begins to fade, blackness creeping in around the edges. I try to scream, to call for help, but I’m not sure I actually make any noise. I think of Aurelius, wishing I could see him one last time, but grateful that it’s not him with me now.

Something snaps in my chest.

The last thing I hear before the darkness claims me is Aurelius screaming my name.