Page 65

Chapter forty-three

I immediately grabbed Ysabel, announcing, “Run!” as the sounds of the guards started to draw near. We slipped through the door, bolting for the river and any spot that would allow us to cross it.

“I’m sorry, Mira,” Ysabel panted.

“Don’t apologize, just run!” My heart was pumping out of my chest—worry for Ysabel gripping onto me.

This was my life: capture, escape, run. The forest was silent other than the sound of the nearing guards and our heavy breaths, lacking even the sound of a chirping bird.That fact scared me more than the thought of being captured again.

The roaring of the water eventually grew, announcing that we were getting close to the river again.

I jumped over one of the fallen logs before turning around to help Ysabel, taking the chance to look at the distance between us and the guards.

The men were a little over half a mile away, with one of them knocking an arrow on a crossbow.

I immediately grabbed Ysabel, yanking her over a second before the arrow became lodged in the log.

We shared a panicked look before breaking out into a sprint once again, this time trying to swerve.

Tall grass brushed past my legs that took wide strides through the covered path.

Ysabel panted a few feet from me, growing tired, but she kept pushing forward.

If we can just make it to the river —another arrow lodged into the dirt directly ahead of us, causing a wave of dread to go through me.

Shit, this can’t be how this ends. We have to make it. We have to.

Breathlessly, I shouted, "When we get to the other side of the river—"

The sound of an arrow cutting through the air was distinct. It was shot at a speed that caused a soft whistle, announcing your end before you had even met it. That’s all the warning I had, the soft whistle of the razor sharp tip cutting through the air before it hit its mark.

Ysabel gasped, slowing to a stop as she took in the arrow through her chest before her knees buckled.

I didn’t even register the scream leaving me as I watched her collapse, only the feeling of my soul shattering when I saw the blood immediately begin to stain her clothes and remembered that she is human.

“No! Ysabel? Ysabel?” I cried, falling to the ground beside her as I tried to hold pressure around the arrow. Not again .

She sucked down breaths, eyes wide in panic. “Mira, run!”

Terror seized me at her words. “No!” I couldn't leave her. This couldn't be happening. None of this was actually happening!

Her body shook as the pained breaths started to come fewer. “I’m going to see. . . my. . . husba—” I felt her heart stop beneath my fingertips, and her muscles relaxed into a sleep-like look.

“Ysabel?” I whispered. “Ysabel! No, no, no!” I shook her limp body as I sobbed, tears blurring my vision. “Ysabel, please!” I looked around me for anything that could help, but there was nothing.

The distinct whistle of another arrow cut through the air, and I ducked. It hit the ground directly past me, and the sounds of the guards grew even closer.

“Stop!” I screamed, begging with them, but it was no use.

With a shaky hand, I brushed Ysabel’s vibrant auburn hair out of her face, memorizing the features of the person I found the most solace in through my grief.

She was my best friend, calming me in my worst moments, drinking expensive wine with me after a long week, protecting me the best she could from things I was too na?ve to see, and now she was dead.

The thought sickened me, turning my stomach upside down.

“I’m so sorry!” I whispered one last time.

Stumbling to my feet, I picked up my dagger that had fallen out of my hands and forced myself not to look back at her lifeless body.

Without her, I was able to put every ounce of my strength into my legs, pushing off the ground at a much faster speed.

But it still wasn’t fast enough. Something was wrong.

The river was within sight when the five guards finally surrounded me, each one holding up a sword with the crossbow discarded. I pulled out my own, readying it in front of me, and turned. I couldn’t let my back face them for more than a few seconds.

Each of them had a different form of smirk on their faces, pleased to have caught up with me.

“Where is your friend?” One of them mocked.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” I growled.

Another one winked, drawing my attention right before a man with very little hair lunged at me.

They were each trying to be distractions.

I ducked under the sword twisting behind me to block the hit that I wouldn’t have seen coming had I not made the realization.

Our blades ricocheted off each other in a loud, ear-piercing screech.

The guards collectively took a step closer, tightening the circle around me.

I used the movement as an opportunity to swiftly turn and shove my blade through the chest of one of the guards, pulling his body towards me to block the other attacks.

Looking over his slumping shoulder, I found forlorn looks on two of the four remaining faces.

Using my foot, I pushed the man off of Airmathair and onto the first two guards—knocking them over.

The man with very little hair lunged at me again, and I swung my blade up to meet his.

Our swords were connected in the air above us as the man and I were face to face.

He sneered, and I could smell the coffee he had this morning on his breath.

The look on his face rapidly changed to that of pain as I dropped one hand from my sword, plunging my dagger into his abdomen.

He hunched over, grabbing his wound with the knife still impaled, just as the sound of a twig breaking drew my attention to the other guard launching an attack, using both of his arms to swing his sword at me.

I stepped out of reach of the blade, allowing it to narrowly miss me.

With the guard's choice of attack, it left his side open. I took the opportunity to swiftly move around him, swinging my sword up from the ground to lodge into his torso. Three down.

I didn’t realize when the first two guards recovered, catching me by surprise when one of them kicked at my hand still holding Airmathair—forcing my grip on it to slip and drop it from my hand.

They had me completely weaponless. And with my powers nowhere in sight, there was no way I could go hand to sword against them.

I took a small step back as the two guards stood before me, swords at the ready.

I had to run. There was no other way out of this.

At least with their numbers smaller, my chances of surviving by fleaing increased.

“ Help me! ” I tried Khalia again, but I was met with deafening silence once more.

I took another step back, ready to turn and run for the river once more.

Their eyes cautiously watched me, as if they could tell exactly what I was going to do next.

They probably could. But by the looks in their eyes, they were going to try to tackle me first.

At the last moment, I turned.

A white-hot burn tore through my abdomen, stopping me as my lungs constricted from the shaky breath I immediately sucked in.

Eyes wide, I looked down at the all-too-familiar steel blade piercing through me.

My gaze found the looks of the two guards in front of me, whose faces filled with shock before turning to rage as they looked at the injured, hairless guard behind me.

“That is a steel blade! We have orders never to kill her!”

“I didn’t realize it was steel!”

“How could you not realize it’s steel?!”

My knees give out under my weight, and the ground suddenly grew closer and closer.

I fell on my side, my limbs increasingly growing colder, causing my whole body to start to tremble.

This was how I die: not by execution, or heartbreak, but by an idiot guard.

I sucked in breath after breath, each one growing shorter.

“What do we do with her?” the hairless one asked—worry for himself, filling his features. My eyelids felt heavier with each second. There was a rustle behind them and the men collectively whipped their heads around, “What the—”

A flash of swirling black smoke appeared out of nowhere, jumping into the clearing and ripping the head off of the guard who stabbed me.

The other two guards readied their swords, and I tried to keep my eyes open to watch.

To make sure that the beast was all right.

But the weight became too much. I closed my eyes, darkness surrounding me before I felt myself being pulled into pure, utter whiteness.

My body laid on the ground, no sword in me, no wound, and no pain.

Sitting up, I looked around, finding nothing as far as the eye could see.

I pushed myself up off the white marble—trying to figure out where I was.

But there was nothing and no one that could give me even a clue, only absolute whiteness. Was this another vision from Nickolai?

All of a sudden, I heard it, the laugh that filled my heart and made me want to cry, all at the same time. It echoed around me. I continuously whipped my head around, looking for the source, but I couldn’t see it. Maybe this was my own hell? One far greater than what Ikinor could have done to me.

The space around me changed into a field of purple and gold flowers, just like in the forest by the cottage, and I knew that my assumption was wrong as soon as I saw him.

Aedon. My son—my heir. . . made out of so much lies and deception, but even with all of that, it could never cloud my love for him.

“Mommy!” Aedon squealed. His soft brown hair reflected the sunlight as he bounced through the weeds, running to me with his arms outstretched.

Nickolai’s vision never spoke. . . I gasped.

Arivyre.

A sob escaped my throat, and I dropped to my knees just in time for him to wrap his arms around my neck. The scent of the lotion I’d bought from the market for him still clung to his skin. I hugged him, never wanting to let go of him again, even as my whole body shook with sobs.

Aedon hugged me back with all his strength, his small voice whispering in my ear excitedly, “I found you, Mommy!”

I choked out a laugh, nodding. He finally found me.