55
Abreeze whipped my long hair back as I opened the spyglass and pointed it across the salt flat. I’d never seen landscapes like it, and it felt like I was in an entirely different world. From the burnt red rocks rimming the side to mounds of white that glittered in the sun, it was breathtaking. A thin sheet of water covered a massive expanse, spreading into the distance, and from my vantage point atop a small ridgeline, I scanned the area for any sign of movement.
Starting on the left, I worked my way over rocks and salt. A flash drew me back to an outcropping, and I held my breath to steady myself. The barest hint of white feathers filled my field of vision, and then two Angels landed on the rocky hillside and skidded their way down to the flat below.
As Rokath predicted, the Angels waited on the opposite side for our battalions. I swept over the rest of the area, trying to uncover any more positions they might have taken. Unfortunately, with the whiteness of the earth along the rocky plain, the Angels were difficult to spot. Despite extensive time in the desert, most of their equipment remained a pristine color, while the Demons’ red and gray hues were slowly turning brown.
Their purity has to be shown at all times, since they are so superior.
I rolled my eyes at my own internal sarcasm. Then, snapping the scope shut, I shimmied my way back down to the ground where Rokath and a handful of Parancsok waited. Another scout had already returned and was relaying information. Despite the argument Rokath and I had had the previous day, I still wanted to help.
He couldn’t love me, and I couldn’t love him. It was as simple as that.
Using the skills he’d taught me would prevent him from dying too.
“For the most part, they were on the ground, though a few appear to be hidden in the rocks in various locations along the lake,”
the scout was telling them as I landed.
“I saw a few flying above too,”
I added. The males turned to me, and I wanted to swallow under their heavy regard. Despite Rokath telling them that I was capable, I still got the sense they thought me less than or incompetent in comparison to the other scout simply because I was female.
Instead of allowing their judgment to affect me, I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, letting the embers burning inside me ignite into a strong, steady flame. “On the left hand side, more are dug into the rocks above.”
“That’s where they’ll shoot arrows from,”
Rokath grumbled, his gaze distant as his mind worked. Over the past few weeks, I’d seen just how brilliant of a strategist he was, how he was able to predict every move the Angels would make and utilize his knowledge of our surroundings and magical capabilities of our warriors to his advantage. I was in awe of him, and I understood why he needed to live above all others.
Which was why I’d pushed him away when he’d tried to confess his feelings to me. What he didn’t understand was that it hurt me as much as it hurt him to walk away. That was all our bond was now—an ocean of pain on both sides.
“So they want to attack us from all sides then. Arrows from the left, sneak attacks from the right, and then a press from the front. The only true way out is forward or backward past the flat, unless they want to take a long detour around the hills here,”
he continued.
I knew from Rokath’s explanation of this part of the Demon Realm that we sat on a plateau between the Skala Mountains and several smaller ranges, and that Lutsk was the gateway to the sandy plains that stretched to the ocean and around the tip of Keleti into the Angel Realm.
And where Izgath’s family was from.
Would there be anything left of Lutsk anyway? I’d yet to come across his other brother who served in Rapp’s division of the army, but I didn’t know his name, even if I dared ask around about him.
“They have to traverse rough terrain to retreat to Lutsk off the main route,”
one of the Parancsok commented. “Which means they’d have to abandon all their supplies.”
“Which is unlikely unless they feel the need to move faster and rejoin the larger forces Hadvezér Rapp and Hadvezér Trol are corralling. If that was the case, they’d have continued on rather than remaining here,”
Rokath stated, digging his fingers into the sides of his jaw and massaging. That was what he did when he was stressed. The desire to offer to do it for him burned inside me, but I quickly doused it. I couldn’t admit my feelings for him, even in that way, right now.
We didn’t even sleep together last night, though I sensed him in the adjacent tent as I lay in our bed, mind turning over his words—especially the ones he’d almost said.
“Aye, so what’s our plan of attack, Halálhívó?”
another asked.
I twisted my fingers in on themselves as I listened. This was the first time Rokath hadn’t shooed me away when it came to this type of talk. Was that because he was starting to trust me? Was he trying to show me that he cared without saying the words?
A sharp hurt speared down our bond as he glanced at me.
“Put the Suppressors on the right side of the lines, and have them use their magic to prevent any surprise magical attacks from the Angels. We can easily fight them in hand to hand combat if needed. Additionally, if they are wielding, they’ll feel when it takes effect so they can alert us to the hidden ones,”
Rokath said, his attention sliding to the soldiers styled in perfect squares a few hundred yards away.
“Arrange the Summoners on the left, and any arrows that come flying for us, have them direct into the salt instead. Add a few Destructors there as well so they can shatter the projectiles the others miss. Everyone else can remain in their usual formation,”
Rokath said decisively. When he knew what he wanted, he had no hesitation.
When did he decide he wanted me?
“And where will you be, Halálhívó?”
the first asked.
“Somewhere toward the front. If we start losing too many, I will do what I do best,”
he stated, his tone threaded with undeniable confidence.
The Parancsok nodded, and then Rokath dismissed them. The hour was growing late, with the sun well past its zenith. “You’re going to attack today?”
I questioned, heart thudding erratically against my chest.
Rokath pinned me with a glare. “Are you really questioning my decision, little imposter?”
The hostility in his tone was unsurprising, given the intensity of emotion crackling between us.
“What if they don’t surrender as easily as before?”
I pressed, undeterred. So many questions swirled through my mind, and with the way the battle was going to unfold, anxiety gnawed at my stomach. To me, it appeared that the Angels had an advantage and could easily decimate our numbers if we had to go to them.
He pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger and sighed. “Then we fight into the night.”
“But–”
A growl ripped from his throat, and my teeth snapped shut with an audible click. “If you need to keep yourself busy this time, assist in the healer’s tent.”
I took a tentative step toward him. “Really?”
Rokath hadn’t wanted me in there before, saying that I would get in the way and that he didn’t want me interacting with that many of the soldiers. Hence, why he’d steered me toward scouting instead.
“I will tell the lead healer that you will join him and to give you something to do that won’t interfere with his work,”
Rokath grumbled, looking highly displeased that he was acquiescing on this front. There were only so many battles he could fight at once.
“Thank you, Halálhívó,”
I said sincerely, offering him a saccharine smile. Lately, I’d noticed just how much he liked those unguarded ones. I hoped that it would ease some of the tension between us.
What if he died and this is how we left things?
“I’ll escort you while the Parancsok and Százados rearrange their squads,”
he replied, his tone softening. The claws closing my throat loosened, and I sucked in a full breath. He swept out a hand, indicating that I should walk ahead of him.
The trek to the camp was a quick one, and we found a dozen or so healers readying their supplies in an open air tent. The shade it offered was fantastic, and with the arrangement, a breeze flowed in one side and out another. I waited at the edge of it, twisting my mother’s ring around my finger. Rokath spoke with the lead healer who nodded and said a few words in reply. Then, he returned to me.
Gripping my upper arm, he steered me around the side, out of sight. Crouching so we were eye level, he whispered, “If you see more males than usual arriving for assistance, do not be afraid, Assyria. While this looks like our toughest battle yet, we still outnumber them. We will win, and in a few hours, we’ll call for the camp to move forward, as usual.”
Then, before I could respond, he leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. Backing away, he instructed, “Do as the lead healer says.”
All I could do was blink as he departed, shocked by the gentle gesture. When the sound of thousands of marching feet reached my ears, I shook myself back to reality and then strolled back into the healer’s tent. “What can I do?”
Blood soaked my arms as I pressed thick wads of cloth into the wound on a Vezet?’s leg. All around me, healers darted around, desperately trying to save as many of the males as they could. More bodies stumbled in every few minutes, and I tried and failed to remind myself that Rokath expected this. In all the times I’d paced the camp, waiting for a battle to end, none had seen this level of injury.
“It’s going to be okay,”
I told the male, unsure what else to say.
He grunted, holding another cloth to a deep gash above his eye. A healer appeared with a leather strap and nudged me to the side. “Hold pressure while I secure this,”
he told me. I did as he asked, stretching my arms to their full length and pressing as hard as I could. He lifted the male’s leg and wiggled the strap beneath it.
The muscles in the Vezet?’s neck strained, but he managed to remain silent. The healer threaded one end through the loop on the other, then tugged until the leather bit into the Vezet?’s thigh. “You can release the pressure now,”
the healer told me, and gingerly, I lifted the pad of fabric. No more blood squirted in my direction, and I heaved a sigh of relief.
“What now?”
I asked the healer, whose garnet eyes were ringed with exhaustion.
“More clean bandages and pium from the stores. Please do get them quickly,”
he said, already moving away from me and toward his next patient.
“Got it,”
I replied, tossing the bloody rag into a bucket overflowing with them. Dodging males racing between the tables, I worked my way to the outside of the tent and around to the back where a second one waited with supplies. When I’d been in here hours before, everything was neatly stacked and easy to find. Now, it looked about as messy as a battlefield, with crates knocked over, some empty, others not. The formerly orderly piles of bandages were strewn across everything, and I gathered an armful before beginning a search for the vials of pium. The crate they had been in earlier was empty, and I searched the ones beside them for the green liquid.
There was none.
“Reaper’s eye,”
I swore, then hurried to the exit, hoping there might be another store of them nearby.
Surely we haven’t run out already?
Racing between tents, arms laden with bandages, I still couldn’t find more.
Maybe one got mixed in with the food.
Brightened by the idea, I sprinted to the nearest cooking tent. No one would be there, given that no one was around to eat either, which meant I could rustle through the sensitive cooks’ wares undisturbed.
Before I reached it, though, voices caught my attention. I halted immediately, holding my breath so I could listen. The sound was so unlike the guttural language of the Demons, but a person was speaking, of that I was certain. Brows dipping together, I shoved hair behind my ear, trying to discern if someone was praying.
The sound was lyrical, melodic almost to the point that I wanted to listen forever to the soothing sound. Setting the bandages down as quietly as I could, I crept forward, attempting to peer around the edge of the maroon tent. A flash of movement caught my attention in the fading light. I shot forward, and three crows burst off the ground, cawing and flapping their wings wildly.
Just birds singing.
Exhaustion tugged at my limbs and my soul after the endless flow of wounded males. I must have been hearing things in an attempt to cope with it all. The thought twisted my stomach as I recalled what Rokath had told me about males who went crazy from too much time fighting at the front. Shaking my head, I grabbed the discarded bandages and continued on to the food tent in search of pium.
The tables were devoid of life, and I slipped through them, ducking behind a folding screen where the cooks kept their stores. After a few minutes of rummaging through sacks and shelves, I still hadn’t found those lifesaving bottles of pium. Tears pricked my eyes as I thought of all the males who needed it in the healing tent.
The realities of war hurt even worse than the realities of life.
Many would die because I failed in finding it or because we were simply out in the first place. Others might live if I got the bandages to them, though. Without lingering any longer, I gathered the bandages and I pushed myself into a run again, letting the tears fall in time with my feet against the ground.
I rounded the maroon tent again, only to slam into a broad male.
“Fucking ouch,”
I cursed, rebounding off him and rubbing my smashed nose, eyes blurring even more from the stinging pain.
That melodic sound filled my ears again, and I jerked my head up, gaze colliding with eyes like a turquoise stone. I didn’t even have time to scream before a hand slapped over my mouth, filling my nostrils with a pungent smell. I thrashed against their hold, everything Rokath had shown me fleeing as adrenaline and fear flooded my veins. One thought managed to shatter its way through the panic—whoever this was wanted me, and didn’t want anyone to know they were taking me. I wrenched my mother’s ring off my finger and let it drop to the ground, a heartbeat before I went totally limp.
Two more passed, and then there was darkness.