Page 45

In the South, we simply used the corvids—the birds already flying about the field—but the North didn’t have that option.

They still used somebody—likely not a wielder, or at least a lower class one—to scatter back and forth across the battlefield, bringing official messages between the captains, general, and king, so they could all stay aware of what was going on.

I readied another arrow to maintain my facade, this time aiming for the messenger.

I waited until he got closer to the edge of the woods, his eyes flickering around the battlefield, likely searching for one of the army captains, when I loosened the arrow.

And it flew clean through his left wing.

I dove towards the earth before he could even fall, appearing like any other aerial soldier, landing to finish off his prey.

I landed next to the wounded messenger, who was groaning in pain and pressing a hand to the wound. Not so gently, due to our size difference, I did my best to drag him behind a nearby tree.

“This is going to sting,” I said, picking up a rock the size of my hand, then swinging it to the side of his head. I silently thanked Quinn for showing me exactly which spot to hit back at Echen Bay.

He was unconscious before he could even register what was happening, and then I was stripping him of his outer garments that signified him to the North as their messenger. Fortunately, the North was accustomed to wearing layers, so I didn’t have to leave the male in only his undergarments.

It was an outfit of steel blue, silver, and black accents, with a symbol of three circles overlapping—signifying the three groups of males they serve on the battlefield—over the wearer’s heart.

I made sure to snag his cloak to hide my hair, which had the same messenger symbol largely sprawled across the back.

With my new disguise, I ducked out from the forest and began making my way through the fray of soldiers, taking to the skies.

Nobody from the North paid me any mind, and the South was outnumbered, so they had more important things to worry about than the small figure breezing by just above them.

My wings carried me to about halfway through the battlefield without incident, staying closer to the edges so as not to get too caught up in the fighting. The night air reeked of iron from all the blood being spilled, and screams of the wounded rattled around in my skull.

Fortunately for the South, the dark sky was beginning to turn gray and brighter with every passing moment. Though, I could tell the downpour was going to start soon as thunder roared and lightning began to light up the clouds, occasionally striking the battlefield—and likely our soldiers.

I spotted Atlas and Lychen ahead of me, towering over their opponents and jumping into the air with snapping jaws, bringing down winged bodies with them.

Despite the time I’d lose walking instead of flying, I decided to land, so as to not become the wolves’ next meal in my disguise.

Making sure my hood stayed in place, I began my trek through the teeming bodies once again.

That was when I heard it.

The footsteps of somebody charging.

And it sounded like they were heading straight for me.

Whirling around, I realized I noticed his presence too late.

The Southern male with an angry face was barreling straight towards me.

He obviously didn’t seem to recognize his own queen, and he was now a meager six feet away with his sword raised, ready to slice me in half, when a streak of ginger flashed across my vision, intercepting the angry male.

Their swords clashed and slid, bouncing off of each other’s, when Quinn yelled at him, “You idiot!”

The anger on his face shifted into confusion, but he didn’t say anything to contradict his general.

“Dismissed, soldier. Find somewhere else to be,” she said, her voice full of authority as she stood in front of me, shielding me partially from view.

The soldier, who was most definitely confused, didn’t object and easily fell back into the fury of war.

The moment he was from earshot, Quinn turned on her heels to face me.

“What were you thinking? You have got to be more careful, for crying out loud! You’re lucky I’ve stayed nearby to prevent incidents just like this.” She shook her head as if she was in disbelief.

“I would have been fine, General . You worry too much,” I bluffed, trying to downplay the situation and how close I was to being skewered. By one of our own soldiers, no less.

Quinn went to make a likely sarcastic retort, but I held up a hand to pause her as I stared back towards the edge of the forest I had just come from, movement snagging my attention.

At this point in the battle, all of the South’s soldiers were on the battlefield. There shouldn’t have been anybody else in or around the forest.

“What is it?” Quinn asked, squinting in the direction I was staring in and sheathing her sword.

The sun hadn’t risen just yet, so I was still able to see better than Quinn could in the dim lighting.

And the sight unfolding before me from afar caused my breath to get stuck in my throat.

Peeking out from behind a wide tree, I spotted Margo’s little face.

Panic laced through me like nothing I’d ever experienced before at the sight of her being here, in the middle of a battle, so close to the front lines.

“Quinn,” I breathed, unable to express what I was seeing.

I watched as a large Northern male with light gray wings broke off from the main battle and began stalking towards Margo.

And she was looking the complete opposite way, totally oblivious to the fact that she was about to face her doom.

“ Margo! ” I screamed, then shot into the sky.

It wasn’t until I was in the sky that I saw the blur of brown and white racing towards Margo, too.

I flapped as vigorously as possible, aware of Quinn somewhere below me racing to keep up.

I saw Quinn pause, but I didn’t stop like her and the blur of brown and white did. I watched as they locked eyes, and Ezra smiled at Quinn—a smile full of sorrow, apology, and love.

Then I watched helplessly, flying as fast as the winds would carry me, as Ezra ran the final stretch between himself and Margo, then threw himself in front of the small child at the last possible second.

“Ezra! NO! ” I heard Quinn scream from the ground, not too far behind me.

We were so close, but not close enough.

We both watched as the Northerner thrust his sword at an upward angle into Ezra’s side, just below his ribs, and twisted.