32 PRISCA
When our soldiers had told stories of battle while we traveled here, I’d attempted to listen to what they didn’t say.
I’d tried to pick apart their words, to prepare myself for just how horrifying this battle would be.
But nothing had prepared me for the smell of blood, heavy in the air. Nothing had prepared me for the brutal screams of the wounded and dying. And nothing had prepared me for this part—when I would be forced to do nothing but watch.
Despite our plan, soon, I would have no choice but to join the battle and use my power to buy my people as much time as I could. Enough time for them to run as fast and as far as possible.
I let my gaze drift to Lorian, my chest clenching.
His head suddenly whipped around. And he wasn’t the only one. On the battlefield, Marth began roaring, his sword slashing so fast, it was a blur of blood and death.
Galon grinned, pointing behind me.
I whirled. Far in the distance—so far, I had to squint despite the eye tonic I’d taken—marching in neat rows, silver armor gleaming in the sun…
Conreth’s fae army. He’d marched his army through the northwestern fae lands and over the Minaret Mountains.
Our people fought with renewed vigor as that army marched toward us. A few footspans away, someone was sobbing, thanking the gods.
The color drained from Blynth’s face, and the stern general suddenly looked as shaken as I’d ever seen him.
He’d accepted his death, I realized. He’d come to terms with it, and now Conreth was offering a tiny glimpse of hope.
The fae soldiers wasted no time. With no other choice, they marched straight into our lines, fighting shoulder to shoulder with our own soldiers as their power slammed into the Eprothans.
The moment Conreth was close enough, I threw my arms around him. The amulet he wore clinked against my armor.
Conreth stiffened, his surprise evident. But his hand came up to pet my shoulder. “My army is exhausted,” he said. “An early snowfall hit, and we had to make camp for three days. Jamic helped there.” He turned to glance at Jamic, who strode up to me with an easy confidence. Clearly, leaving him with Conreth had been the right choice.
“But we’re here,” Conreth said. His gaze slid over my shoulder, and I knew without looking that Lorian had left the battlefield to Conreth’s fae.
They had a short, silent conversation.
“Good timing,” Lorian said finally.
Conreth gave a sharp nod, something that might have been disappointment in his eyes.
A few of his people cut away from the rest of the army, making their way toward us. My heart thudded a joyful beat. “The wardens,” I breathed.
“All but Verdion,” Conreth confirmed. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard—”
“No,” Lorian bit out. “No word from Rythos.”
Conreth’s canted his head, and his eyes turned flat. He was watching someone closely.
Sylvielle.
The fae king’s gaze flicked to Regner’s army. But it wasn’t the soldiers he was watching. No, his gaze lingered on the terrovians.
I turned to Lorian. But he was watching his brother. And from the look in his eyes, he’d come to some conclusion.
“Sylvielle,” Lorian purred, and I almost shivered at the sharp edge in his voice, the cruel, cold smile he gave her.
She was wearing dark-green armor that looked like snake scales, her hair braided back into a crown that circled her head as she leaned on the wooden barricade. Our people were extending it as fast as they could. One of the hybrids gave her an impatient look as he attempted to hammer a piece of wood behind her.
Sylvielle’s eyes lit up. “Yes?”
“Do me a favor and walk toward our archers.”
She pouted. “Why?”
“Because I asked you to.”
Anyone who truly knew Lorian would have heard the death that laced his tone. But Sylvielle clearly only heard the caress. She sent me one victorious look beneath her lashes and turned, walking toward them.
“What am I missing?” I demanded, my voice low.
“Shh,” Lorian said. “Watch.”
Sylvielle moved closer, every step sinuous, her body created to draw the male gaze. I ground my teeth, glancing at Lorian and Conreth. But they weren’t watching her.
No, they were watching the terrovians once more.
And as soon as Sylvielle got within range, every terrovian on the battlefield seemed to go still.
Looking at her.
Turning back to us, Sylvielle swept her gaze over Conreth and Lorian, sending a poisonous smirk my way. When she found them looking beyond her, she glanced over her shoulder.
Her eyes were wide with horror when she turned back to us.
“Your Majesty,” she mouthed, running toward us.
Conreth let out a growl like a wounded animal. Behind him, Romydan, Thorn, and Caliar echoed him.
A warden. One of their own. This was proof. Proof that she had given fae creatures to Regner. Proof that those creatures had a deep connection to her.
“Please!” she shrieked.
Conreth raised his hand. His power sliced into her, and she shattered into a million pieces.
Just like Lorian had.
The world dimmed around me. Lorian cursed, pulled me away, and wrapped his arms around my shaking body.
“I’m fine.” My voice sounded very far away. But I didn’t have time to fall apart. I wiggled and he released me.
He had to get back to the front. So did the wardens. I turned, finding Conreth watching me.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be. At least we know she can’t do any more damage now.”
“Prisca,” Lorian said.
“Look,” someone called. “Some of the terrovians are fleeing.”
They were right. Hundreds of the creatures seemed to have responded to Sylvielle’s death with blind terror. That terror was overriding whatever power Regner had used to make them obey his orders.
The sight helped me rebuild my walls.
“Go. Please. We’ll talk about this after,” I promised, my voice a low murmur.
Lorian pulled me close once more, pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, and strode away, his brother following in his footsteps.
The sounds of battle raged on and on and on.
After Zathrian convinced Prisca to put a sword in his hand—and I would never understand how he’d achieved that—I’d been left here alone, two guards posted outside my cave.
“I need to use the bathing room,” I’d called at one point.
“Piss yourself,” one of them had replied with a low laugh before they’d returned to ignoring me once more.
How had it come to this?
Even as I asked the question, I knew the answer.
Pelysian. The man I’d considered loyal for so many years. And his bitch mother.
Every step they’d allowed—no…urged—me to take had ensured I’d end up here as one of my enemy’s prisoners.
For years, I’d believed in Pelysian’s loyalty. Even as I saw the way he began looking at me. Even as I heard what he didn’t say in the space between his words. Still, I’d been convinced that he would see I only wanted what was best for this continent and the people living on it.
“You!” one of the guards said.
Twin thuds. As if two bodies had hit the ground.
Jamic stepped into the cave. “Hello, Mother.”
My eyes flooded with tears. “How did you know?”
“Pelysian told me you’d be here.”
I was wrong, then. Wrong to question Pelysian’s loyalty.
It wasn’t too late. My son was here, freeing me. We would finally be together.
But Jamic was crouching next to me, and his eyes looked far too old for his face. Ancient in a way that made me shiver.
And when he spoke, it was clear he expected to be obeyed.
“Jamic…”
Shaking his head, he handed me the dagger. “You know what you need to do.”
My hand trembled as he reached for it. And then he pulled it away several inches until our eyes met once more. “Don’t make me regret this.”
“You won’t.”
In the end, it would be Jamic and me ruling this continent.
And no one would ever dare to hurt us again.
Bodies lay scattered across the battlefield like fruit rotting in an orchard.
Our wounded were carried to safety whenever possible—taken to healers’ tents, where I knew Tibris was saving as many lives as he was able. I’d heard from Asinia that Telean had planted herself in there with him and was helping however she could.
Lorian had sent Marth and Galon for me. And they’d wedged me between them as we fought our way toward the front lines. It was time to use my power.
Lorian had used much of his own power turning thousands of the terrovians to ash when we’d arrived. But he still struck again and again, his lightning targeting Regner’s most powerful.
When he switched to using only his sword, I knew Lorian was conserving the last of his power for Regner.
I could taste dirt and sweat and blood on my tongue, infiltrating each of my gasps for air amid the relentless onslaught.
Above our heads, the sun had almost disappeared, a heavy cloak of ash and smoke hanging low in the sky.
There was nothing left but the cacophony of steel clashing against steel, the sparks of magic slamming into wards, and the anguished cries of the fallen. Beneath my feet, the hardened sand had been churned until each step was a struggle. Exhaustion pressed down onto me, reflected in the faces of each and every soldier fighting on both sides.
Reaching for the threads of my own power, I panted, holding as tightly as I could. Our soldiers had gotten used to the way their enemies would go unnaturally still now, and they knew they had to kill as many of them as possible while I leashed time itself.
With each attack, our people rallied, cutting down those who would gladly kill us.
And as I let time resume, I saw death where there had previously been life. I heard screams as Eprothan soldiers fought next to their friends one moment, only to see them dead at their feet the next.
The battlefield became a bloodbath. A horror so great, part of me wondered what a life after this could possibly look like for me. I would see these men in my nightmares for the rest of my days.
But even with all the death we wielded, it wasn’t enough. We were being forced back, our numbers simply too small against Regner’s army.
“Now!” Lorian roared, and I clutched the hourglass around my neck. I no longer had to fight with the hourglass to drain my power slow and steady. It was as if discovering my power hidden within me had unlocked some new facet of control.
Demos was suddenly at my elbow as our soldiers surged forward. He pulled me back, nodding at Lorian, who yelled something to Marth and Galon. A moment later, Lorian was falling back with me while the others moved farther into a sea of blood, launching themselves toward the front lines.
Demos pulled me to where our archers had taken their stand. Asinia appeared exhausted as she shoved several arrows into her quiver. When I looked between our barricade and the battle raging to our north, it was evident just how much ground we had lost.
Hevdrin and Blynth approached. Both generals looked grim.
“We’re too heavily outnumbered,” Demos said. “We have to think smart. Have to take Regner by surprise in some way.”
Hevdrin wiped at his sweaty face with the back of his arm. “What are you suggesting?”
“We put everything into our left flank. And we hit hard.”
With the water to the west, Regner’s soldiers would have nowhere to go—unlike the soldiers closest to the mountains, who could turn and flee.
“We take soldiers from the rear lines to funnel into the left flank,” Demos continued. “Those on the front must stand their ground. And not cede an inch.”
The blood drained from my face. I could see what Demos wanted to do, and it made perfect, logical sense. But it might also kill—
“What about Vicer and Herne and the others?” Asinia demanded, ripping the words from my mouth. “They’re fighting right where you want to pull the most soldiers.”
My stomach hollowed out. The man who had sacrificed so much for our people. And the man my brother loved.
Demos’s jaw firmed. “We have to trust them to hold on for just a little longer. We have to thin Regner’s army before we fall back ourselves. And the best way to do that is to break his lines and make his soldiers panic. Otherwise, Regner will stay protected. He won’t appear until he thinks we’re almost done. And if we don’t break his lines, we’ll truly be done soon.”
Next to me, Lorian pulled out his waterskin, handing it to me. “Drink,” he ordered.
“What do you think?” I asked him.
“I think it’s the hardest call you’ll have to make in your life, wildcat. But it’s the kind of tactic that may just save us. We’re losing. At this point, it’s only a matter of time.”
“We break their right flank, and it could give us a chance to get to Regner,” I said.
But if this didn’t work, anyone on our weakened right flank was dead.
No. I couldn’t afford to think like that.
I turned my gaze to the sea, where Regner’s ships bore down on Daharak’s fleet with brutal ferocity. Daharak’s pirates had defended our kingdom so far, but the enemy was relentless, the sheer numbers tipping the scale, exploiting gaps and weaknesses.
In the water, the sea serpents were now fighting back, slamming their tails into Regner’s hulls. But each of the Eprothan ships proudly bore one of those dead serpents hanging from its mast.
“The ward falling took the serpents by surprise,” Demos said, his voice heavy with grief.
“How many do you think are left?”
He swallowed. “The ones the humans managed to kill? They’re the babies.”
I closed my eyes against his words, but I was forced to open them once more as several people inhaled sharply.
Many of Daharak’s ships were ablaze, the sea around them a graveyard of floating debris. And Regner’s ships were arrowing away from us.
Toward our kingdom.
“The elders have prepared our people,” Demos said, but his voice was grim. “The Eprothans won’t find any hybrids near the coast. What they will find are vicious traps that will keep them busy until we finish this.”
Firming my lips, I nodded. Demos turned back to the others.
“For this to work, we need to make sure we’re ready. The trowth stones will help us communicate across the battlefield, but the noise and chaos on the front lines will still make it difficult.”
Lorian gazed out at the battle, and his hand tightened on his sword. “Our army is highly disciplined and well-trained, but it will still take time to realign forces without confusion or breaking the formation.”
“Terrain and visibility are good,” Demos countered. “Our biggest issues are speed, timing, and the risk of exposure. If it’s too slow or poorly timed, Regner’s commanders will realize what we’re doing, and they’ll hit our right flank hard the moment they sense weakness.” Demos’s eyes met mine. “This is where you come in, Pris. How much power do you have left without burning out?”
My heart raced, and my skin suddenly felt too tight.
“If you can ensure our soldiers are ready to move, I’ll buy them the time they need.”
Lorian nodded. “The Bazinith,” he said. “This is what they trained for. Get them to the front lines of the left flank to lead the charge with us. Now.”
It took time to move soldiers from the right flank to the left. The word had to spread, and our people began to slowly move to the left. It was messy. It was disorganized. But soon, as I stood on the hill above the battle, Lorian once more fighting on the front lines, I could see the restructure taking place.
We’d needed a distraction to hide exactly what was happening. And Conreth gave it to us. He attacked with his wardens, crashing their power into Regner’s left flank again and again.
This would drain most of what they had left. Already, one of the fae generals was screaming something at Conreth—likely begging him to retreat. And he was right. If the fae king went down…
But Conreth ignored him, his vicious, deadly power cutting through creatures with four legs and those with only two.
My eyes stung at the screams. But Demos was suddenly standing next to me. “Ready, Pris?”
“Ready.”
“Now!” He roared the word into his trowth stone, and I strained, tiny dots appearing in my vision as I clutched at my hourglass and willed my power to give me more. After using so much power, I was tiring, my hands shaking, my eyes blaring. My knees wobbled, and I gripped Demos’s arm to steady myself.
The thread snapped.
I hadn’t been able to hold time for long—perhaps a minute at most. Our soldiers were still moving from the center lines and the right flank. Conreth and the others were attacking with everything they had. Hopefully their distraction would help hide my own failure.
It wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.
“Nelayra.”
I ground my teeth at the sound of Zathrian’s voice. He was supposed to be on the front lines, a sword in his hand.
Demos slowly turned his head. “What is he doing here?”
“I brought him,” Telean said.
I glanced over my shoulder. Demos kept his gaze on Zathrian, who stood next to Telean, his shoulders square, his head oddly canted, as if bracing for a blow.
Demos’s eyes filled with cool disdain. “When we need someone to neutralize Prisca’s power, we’ll let you know.” He turned back toward the battle. “Ready to go again?” he asked me.
“Yes.”
“Neutralizing isn’t all I can do,” Zathrian said from behind us. “Allow me to show you. Please.”
Demos ignored him. But…Telean had asked. And she was giving me that calm, steady look that demanded I listen. “You will need your power to help strip Regner of his wards,” she said. “If you use all of it now, we are doomed. You know I would not ask this of you if it was not necessary.”
No, Telean would never expect me to work with the man who’d risked our kingdom unless she knew it could truly make a difference. My gaze dropped to his wrists, and I sighed. My aunt had already removed the manacles he’d been wearing.
“Fine.”
Demos didn’t argue. But he drew his dagger, his hand clenched around the hilt as if it was taking everything in him not to plunge it into our cousin’s heart.
Zathrian merely nodded at Demos. “Ready.”
Demos lifted the trowth store with his other hand. “Now.”
I reached for the thread of my power, and a cool wind swept through me. The shock of it was almost enough to make me drop the thread of my power. But that cool wind seemed to make it easier to lift that thread somehow. I yanked my power to me and held it. And this time…it was lighter. It was as if the thread was balanced, and I merely had to hold it gently. My vision didn’t blur. My knees didn’t tremble. I could still feel the drain, but it was tempered this time, bolstered by the icy gust of Zathrian’s power.
Demos must have felt me jolt, because he grabbed my arm. “Hold on,” he urged.
And together with the cousin whose parents were responsible for the loss of my own, the cousin who had killed my husband and mate while challenging me for my throne…
We held time hostage and gave our people everything we had.