33 PRISCA
On my right, Demos roared orders into the trowth stone, choosing the best possible moments for me to use my power. To my left, Zathrian poured everything he had into me, and I gladly took what he had to offer.
The three of us were the last of my grandmother’s bloodline.
I hoped she was watching. And I hoped that even if we died today, some part of her would be proud.
Finally, just when I was convinced this had been the worst possible decision…A hint of movement in Regner’s right flank.
Thanks to both Telean’s eye tonic and the ground we had lost, I could see the panicked expressions of Regner’s generals as their soldiers fell and died. As others turned to run.
And still, it wasn’t enough. Regner was safe behind his soldiers.
For now.
The air was thick with the scent of iron and blood, the metallic tang sliding along my tongue and stinging my nostrils. Demos held up a hand. “Enough. Conserve what you have left.”
My head spun dizzily. Next to me, Zathrian leaned over and panted, placing his hands on his thighs. “Kaliera is planning something,” he said. “She has someone on the outside. A man named Pelysian. She feels confident he will come for her to free her. So she can kill you.”
I stared at him. If he was telling me this now, it was because he’d been planning to join with her.
Demos cursed. “I’ll have someone check her guards,” he said.
I opened my mouth.
“Your Majesty!” Blynth strode up to us. His eyes were half wild. “We’ve heard from the elders. It’s time.”
I swallowed, my stomach fluttering. So much could go wrong…
“Pris!” Asinia screamed.
I whirled, scanning the distance. And a choked sob ripped its way free from my throat.
Hundreds of Arslan ships began to rise from deep beneath the water, directly behind Regner’s fleet.
Rythos and Madinia had made it happen.
Regner’s ships began to burst into flames. Except they weren’t just burning. No, they were turning to ash.
Madinia was here.
And she was furious.
“Who is that?” Zathrian asked behind me.
I couldn’t help but laugh, picturing Madinia’s reaction when she learned who Zathrian was. “I suggest you make yourself scarce.”
Asinia reached us, a wide grin on her face. And Demos scooped her up, his mouth crashing down on hers.
I gaped. That was new. Telean would be pleased. She’d muttered about how the two of them were wasting time. I turned, searching for my aunt. But she’d disappeared. Likely, she couldn’t stand to watch Regner’s ships breaking through Daharak’s lines, his soldiers prepared to slaughter our people in their own kingdom.
A strange kind of panic began to thump in my chest. She was likely fine. But…
“Has anyone seen Telean?”
Demos shrugged, unconcerned. I nudged him with my elbow. “When you see her, find a way to keep her with Tibris,” I ordered. I hadn’t had a chance to check in on him, but I had no doubt he would put her to good use and keep her safe.
“I’ll keep an eye out for her,” Asinia said.
Demos nodded, but his gaze was on a skiff that was moving toward the shallows.
Madinia stood by Rythos’s side. Her remaining power was best spent here, where she could help us get to Regner, and Rythos had clearly determined the same.
Rythos’s cousin stood behind them, and her ward held easily as they made their way toward us. By the time they’d landed on the beach, Regner’s soldiers had given up their attempts to slice their power through that ward.
Finally, Madinia reached us. Surprisingly, she hugged each of us, something heavy in her cloak pocket thunking against my armor. Asinia’s gaze dropped to it, and she opened her mouth, eyes sparking—
“We need you at the front,” Demos told her. “Thanks to the hybrids, we’ve reclaimed the peninsula. And of course, thanks to the Arslan, Regner’s ships won’t be able to invade our kingdom. That means we have the tunnel, and it’s time to get the hybrids out. Prisca, you stay here, ready to step in if the Eprothans realize what we’re doing. But don’t use your power unless there’s absolutely no other option.”
Madinia stripped out of her cloak, revealing armor of her own.
“I’ll take that,” Margie said, handing us each a waterskin as she took Madinia’s cloak, throwing it into one of the tents behind the barricade.
Margie handed us each a piece of bread and an apple. She couldn’t be on the battlefield, but she was determined to help in her own way.
The food and water did help.
Madinia’s eyes met mine. “Get our people home.”
“I will. Be careful.”
With a nod, she was gone, striding toward the battlefield.
“Where’s Jamic?” Demos raised his voice.
“Here.” Jamic immediately appeared at his side. Compared to the rest of us, he seemed rested, and I could almost feel his power curling through the air like smoke.
“You need to be ready,” I told him.
“I am ready,” he said gravely. There was something strange about the look in his eyes.
Tor appeared by his side. “I’m ready too.”
“We get this done, and then we strike,” I said.
At this very moment, our people were filing out of the caves, gathering at the edge of the forest. At our signal, they would run for their lives.
I waited, my heart pounding erratically as I stared at the peninsula.
Movement.
Rivenlor appeared first, his head popping above the sand, as if he’d been buried beneath it. Tor was standing close enough to me that I felt him jolt as Rivenlor was followed by Sylphina, Gavros, Tymriel, and Ysara.
Grief clawed at my chest. But each of them had known the cost of such power. And they had been insistent.
As one, the elders turned to face Regner’s army. They linked their hands, their lips moving as they channeled an ancient magic.
Demos’s voice thundered from the forest behind us.
“Go!”
The hybrids slipped out of the forest. A few of our soldiers carried children, holding them close as they sprinted across the sand. The elders had warned us that this kind of power wouldn’t last. The power to hide this many hybrids from the Eprothans would take all they had to give.
Thousands of hybrids, tripping on the sand, making it to their feet, hauling children and the elderly, carrying the sick.
Tymriel dropped to his knees, before slumping to the ground. The others clutched his hands and kept chanting.
Gavros dropped next, followed by Ysara.
My heart leaped into my throat, and I prepared to freeze time. Some of the hybrids were only halfway to the tunnel.
Vicer appeared, carrying a child in each arm, his teeth bared in a feral snarl. Behind him, the hybrid soldiers we’d left to guard the caves were carrying others, all of them hurtling toward the elders.
Sylphina keeled over. But the elders still clasped hands, continuing to chant. Only Rivenlor remained standing, and even from here, I could see his body quaking.
I sucked in a deep breath. Using the last of my power here could leave us with no way to kill Regner. But I couldn’t watch hundreds of hybrids lose their lives when the elders could no longer keep chanting.
A howl sounded, followed by several others.
Vynthar appeared, sprinting along with the hybrids. One after the other, more Drakoryx joined him.
What was he…
Rivenlor fell. Regner’s soldiers began slamming their power into the ward that was protecting the hybrids as they ran toward the entrance to the tunnel––our people suddenly visible to the Eprothans once more. But our left flank held the line, giving everything they had for our most vulnerable.
And when the Eprothans power slipped through our wards, the Drakoryx leaped to shield the hybrids. Protecting them with their bodies.
I’d used my power against Vynthar once, and it hadn’t impacted him at all.
Now, they shook off most attacks. But they’d been fighting for hours too.
And when one of the Drakoryx went down, it didn’t get back up.
Neither did the next.
I raised my hands. Asinia caught them, slowly shaking her head. Tears streamed down her face.
One by one, the Drakoryx fell, until there were just seven left.
The final hybrid—a woman who limped as she ran— was hauled into the tunnel.
The elders lay near the tunnel entrance, their hands still clasped, their bodies unmoving. The final sacrifice to bring our people home.
As one, Vicer, the remaining soldiers, and all of the remaining Drakoryx sprinted back toward the battle, aiming for those who would dare attempt to kill our most innocent.
“Your Majesty.”
Blynth strode toward me, a trowth stone in his hand. “Something has happened,” he said. “Regner’s soldiers— especially his generals—they’re clutching their stomachs and falling to their knees.”
I stared at him.
“And immediately losing their heads,” he clarified. “Our people are taking full advantage of the situation.”
“Poison?”
“I don’t know, but it seems likely. Perhaps your friend Natan was able to do more than we’d thought.”
Sorrow threatened to drown me at the thought of Natan. “They’re the safest behind Regner’s wards,” Blynth continued hurriedly. “With them dying, it’s creating chaos behind their lines. This is it, Nelayra. This has to be the final push.”
Prisca fought like a warrior.
If we lived through this, I would commission a portrait of her, teeth bared, eyes glowing gold as she killed savagely for her kingdom.
Nearby, Conreth’s brutal power froze and shattered groups of soldiers each time. To our right, Conreth’s wardens had broken through the front lines, fighting deep within Regner’s ranked soldiers. Rekja used his own power to explode the towers the humans had built for their archers.
And that was Brevan fighting next to Rythos. I shook my head, dazed. If there was one sight I’d never expected to see, it was the Arslan brothers fighting together on the same side.
Someone had managed an insidious attack behind Regner’s lines. Every few minutes, one of Regner’s generals would stumble, eyes glassy. Occasionally, they would fall to the ground, already dead. Most of the time, our people would take advantage of their weakness.
I noted each death.
And each time, I found one thing in common.
Those generals were drinking from their waterskins before they died.
They had time to do so since most of them weren’t fighting at the front.
Poison.
And that poison was turning the tide. Without the generals using their stolen power…without them roaring orders, the humans on the front lines—the ones who’d been forced to fight and die for the man who’d magically crippled them—began to turn and run.
Immediately, one of Regner’s generals lashed out at them with a dark power of his own. Shadows that twisted across his own soldiers’ skin, pouring down their throats to suffocate them.
Dead. He was dead.
Our eyes met, and the sadistic light left his gaze. Gradually, fear and realization replaced it.
I gave him a slow smile, not bothering to take my eyes off him as I lifted my sword to block the thrust of a knife from the right, kicking out and slamming my boot into the human’s gut.
The general backed up, but there was nowhere for him to go. He looked over my shoulder. And he was smiling as I sliced my sword through his neck.
Dread sank into my bones.
“Lorian!”
That was Cavis’s voice.
I whirled, searching desperately for my wildcat.
Prisca was too fucking far away. I’d told her to stay close, but she’d darted several footspans to the right to pull a wounded hybrid to her feet. Swinging my sword, I cut my way back toward her, my instincts urging me faster and faster.
A dark storm of power slid through Galon’s ward as if it were fog. He bolstered the ward, but it was too late. I knew it was too late.
“Prisca!” I roared. I slammed my boot into a human chest, elbowed another in the face, and sliced my sword through the neck of yet another as he lunged at me.
Prisca couldn’t have heard me over the sound of the battle.
But she turned toward me, eyes wide with stark realization.
It was as if she was using her power to slow time as more dark power arrowed toward her.
A dull roar filled my head. My vision grayed.
Prisca whirled to meet the threat.
Conreth flew through the air. The dark power slammed into him as he tumbled into Prisca, both of them hitting the ground. Conreth didn’t move. His skin slowly began turning gray.
Marth had him in his arms a moment later. He tore the amulet from Conreth’s neck and threw it to me. I caught it, shoving it over my head to hang with my own.
Marth began to run. Rythos cut down a soldier who lunged toward Prisca. The moment she was safe, he sprinted after Marth. From the easy smiles that broke out among our enemies, Rythos was using his power to keep them both covered from attack.
Panic carved into my chest. Prisca sobbed through her teeth, scrambling to her feet as I fought my way back to her.
Conreth had looked dead.
I made it to Prisca, hauling her to my chest.
A human soldier launched himself at me and died instantly, my sword slashing out before I realized I’d moved. The next soldier died the same way. And the next. A hole opened up around us.
Safe. Prisca was safe.
“Lorian!” Galon roared. He pointed to the right.
Caliar lashed out with his power, aiming for Regner’s leadership in the rear guard. I had no doubt Regner himself was in one of the tents a hundred footspans away, carefully warded.
Regner’s generals lifted something. I blinked, and Caliar was gone—nothing but a curl of smoke rising into the air where seconds ago, one of Conreth’s most powerful people—a warden—had stood.
That fucking mirror.
Our own lines began foundering.
But now we knew where Regner’s mirror was. Close enough for him to use it to ensure his personal ward remained impenetrable, while allowing his most important generals to protect themselves.
Shouts rang out, rising over the din of battle. And unlike when Conreth’s army had arrived, these were not shouts of jubilation. No, they were shouts of dismay and horror and hopelessness.
Steeling myself, I squinted in the direction of pointed hands and turned heads. Even with my fae senses, it would have been difficult to see exactly who was approaching.
But I knew that deceptively slow, shambling walk.
The hags moved south, close to the sea. Unlike the terrovians, they had no problem with salt water. They moved casually, as if simply enjoying the weather.
Soon, they were in line with the main body of Regner’s army.
Prisca wiggled free from me.
“Fuck,” she said, her voice heavy with dread. She raised her hands, likely about to attempt to buy us just a little time. But I leaned close.
“Trust me, wildcat. This is the distraction we need to get behind the barricade. And Regner won’t be able to help himself. He’ll follow us.” I raised my voice to a roar. “Those stone bitches betrayed us once again!”
The hags’ presence seemed to revitalize Regner’s flagging front lines. The Eprothans attacked with a new fury.
Prisca’s eyes met mine.
“Fall back!” she screamed. Our soldiers cursed, and I caught betrayal on several faces nearby. Betrayal and terror.
Once the order was given, it happened quickly. Just as Regner’s lines had broken, so did ours. And our soldiers ran for the barricade. We’d lost so much ground, they didn’t have far to run. Many of them sprinted for the peninsula, aiming for the tunnel that might take them home.
That was what we wanted. Over half of Regner’s remaining soldiers had fled. Most of our own soldiers had used all of their power and were fighting only with sword and shield.
We needed them gone. Needed nothing between us and Regner’s rear guard.
“You fucking coward!” Zathrian roared at Prisca. And despite our plan, my hand itched with the urge to slice his throat.
Prisca held time for Regner’s remaining men. And Galon, Demos, Madinia, Asinia…all of us screamed for our people to run.
Prisca bought us long enough for our warders to pour their remaining power into our shields as everyone sprinted across the battlefield.
“I won’t follow a queen who calls a retreat at the exact wrong moment,” a soldier spat.
Demos was striding toward me. He reached out with the flat of his hand, smacking the soldier in the back of head. “Go.”
The soldier went.
I grabbed Prisca’s hand, pulling her with me toward the barricade where the others were positioned. And we watched.
There he was. I could see the Eprothan king in the distance behind his lines, surrounded by his generals. And, of course, warded by that mirror.
He thought we were done. He wanted to watch Prisca die. Needed to see it happen himself.
And that would be his downfall.
“Lorian, look!”
I followed her gaze. In the water, the wreckage of Regner’s fleet burned. Hopefully, Rostamir could get some of her pirates here in time to help fight.
I pressed a kiss to Prisca’s cheek. “I’ll be back.”
She nodded absently, her brow furrowed.
Yanking Conreth’s amulet from around my neck, I strode to where Brevan was watching Regner in the distance.
He fixed me with a long stare. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
I didn’t bother replying to that. But I held out my hand, the blue jewel of the amulet winking in the sunlight.
His gaze dropped to it. And immediately flicked back up to mine. His eyes were wary.
“Take it.”
Three amulets.
Three of our most powerful fae.
Conreth had fallen. I had no idea if he was still alive. Rythos and Marth were gone, likely by his side. Hopefully they would return in time, but…
But this choice felt right.
Brevan swallowed, his expression saying without words what the action meant.
I was trusting him to use the amulet to kill our greatest enemy.
If he wanted, he could turn on us. But he’d listened to Rythos. He’d brought his people here to defend the fae.
Brevan’s eyes warmed. And he nodded at me, slipping the amulet over his head.
I nodded back, turning to find Prisca.
“That was a good thing you did.”
I tensed, my eyes meeting Telean’s.
She smiled at me. It was the same smile she always wore around me. Slightly perturbed, as if she still couldn’t quite understand exactly how her niece had ended up with the Bloodthirsty Prince.
But I knew no one else could see her.
Sorrow struck, thick and deep.
As deep as the vicious wound through her neck.
I hoped her death had been quick.
“It was you. The poison. The generals.”
“I spent every last coin I had on those ingredients,” she smiled. “Ameri was born for such tasks. But I knew only one of us would get out. I bargained with the gods to keep Nelayra alive, and I was always going to die today. I’m glad I died doing something that made a difference. Tell her to check Tibris’s healer’s bag.”
My chest clenched. This woman was braver than almost anyone on that battlefield. “Thank you. For keeping her alive.”
She bowed her head. “Look after our people, Your Majesty.”
My throat tightened. The title was more than an acknowledgment. From her, it was a priceless gift.
All I could do was nod. But Telean was already fading, her gaze on something beyond me. Beyond all of us. Her eyes lightened, her face turning radiant, and she suddenly looked like a young woman once more.
And then she was gone.
Our retreat may have been planned, but it was also very much necessary. The battle continued to rage, only now, Regner also had the hags—those huge, deadly creatures who lumbered toward us.
My blood turned thick and slow, my limbs suddenly heavy.
But Lorian was surveying those hags from where he stood in front of the barricade, Prisca’s hand in his. And since I was watching him, I saw his mouth curve.
I pivoted back to the hags just in time to see them turn. Stone hands crashed into flesh and bone as they rampaged through Regner’s right flank.
Human soldiers were fleeing by the thousands, giving us a straight path to the Eprothan king. Meanwhile, Daharak’s pirates were pouring onto the beach, sprinting toward our own army.
This was it.
“Now!” Prisca yelled.
Tor stood near the wooden barrier, surrounded by Rekja, Herne, and Demos. His face was stark white, but he lifted his head, aiming his power straight at Regner’s ward. The ward glowed white in response, and a tiny crack appeared.
Regner smiled. With a wave of his hand, his ward reformed and the crack disappeared.
Tor aimed again and again. Nausea rose, thick in my throat, as Regner countered each time.
We’d hoped to have a chance without attempting to break an artifact gifted from the gods.
Next to me, Prisca let out a string of curses, lifting a trowth stone close to her mouth. “Tell everyone who can be spared to use whatever magic they have left to hit any generals surrounding Regner. Get all three amulets ready to strike the mirror. Now.”
Within moments, Lorian, Galon, and Brevan stood together, each of them wearing an amulet. As one, they aimed their power through Regner’s remaining ranks, straight at the mirror.
Jamic added his power. And gods, what power he had. His hair flew back from his face, and that power slammed into the mirror. Whatever training he’d done with Conreth…it all came down to this.
The mirror glowed. A tiny crack appeared in the glass.
I could see the despair on Prisca’s face as she used the dregs of her own power. After the way she’d used it to buy our right flank the time we needed, I’d thought she would have nothing left.
Marth and Rythos had returned from getting Conreth away from the battlefield, and they swung their swords through anyone who attempted to attack, working their way toward her.
To our left, I caught sight of Daharak wielding a sword—at least one hundred pirates fighting with her.
But we would never be able to kill Regner while that mirror protected him. Within hours, any terrovians left would be feasting on us.
Unless I did something. Something so terrifying, it made a chill spread through my bones.
I began to quake. A wave of nausea pitched up my throat.
If I did this, there would be no time to come to terms with my decision.
But the screams of the dying were burrowing deep, through my ears and into my mind, where they echoed over and over.
Prisca was just footspans away now. My blood pounded in my ears, and it was as if the drumbeat of it snagged Prisca’s attention.
Her eyes met mine.
“I know how to break the mirror,” I screamed to her. “Tell them to wait just a few minutes. They’ll know when they need to try again.”
Prisca opened her mouth, and I shook my head.
“Don’t ask how I can do it. We don’t have time. You have to trust me.”
Someone jostled me, and Marth was suddenly there, launching himself past us to address the threat.
Prisca stared at me. But she didn’t hesitate. The words were easy to read on her lips.
“Do it.”
Turning, I sprinted behind the barricade. Madinia sat on an overturned log, Tibris by her side. Blood dripped from the side of her neck as he worked to close the wound.
“I need to get back,” she said.
“Not until I’m finished. Do I have to tell Prisca?”
Madinia was pale, her hands shaking as she took a couple of sips of water. But she still scowled.
“One minute,” Madinia said.
“Three minutes.” Tibris’s tone was unrelenting. “If this was a hair deeper, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Madinia’s eyes met mine. “What are you doing here?”
I darted past her into the tent, rolling the orb from the pocket of her cloak. I’d instantly known what she’d been carrying with her when she hugged us. And it didn’t surprise me at all that Daharak Rostamir didn’t want the temptation of it near her.
I clutched the blue orb to me as I sprinted back toward the battle.
“Asinia!” Madinia was screaming, running alongside me now. Tibris would be furious with her.
I sliced a glance to my left, but Madinia wouldn’t make it around the soldiers in front of us in time to stop me. All I had to offer her was a single shaky smile.
The weapon required someone pure of heart. I’d killed. Many times.
I wasn’t making it through this alive.
I’d wanted to become infamous. To be a legend. To make a name for myself.
I’d wanted recognition. And if I did this, no one would ever know. It was bitterly ironic.
But I’d know. And thousands of people would live. That was a price I was willing to pay.
I’d promised Demos no stupid risks.
I’m sorry.