29 ASINIA
Most of Regner’s foot soldiers had traveled through the Normathe Mountains.
But there were still at least ten thousand soldiers marching on our camp.
The traps Herne and Tibris had set slowed Regner’s army down.
But most of the soldiers simply strode past those who had fallen, leaving them for their healers.
Our barricade gave us a scant amount of cover. We might not be sheltered in a keep or a castle, but we held the high ground, and the large boulders near the beginning of the pass gave our archers good spots to wait.
And wait, I did.
The moment the first Eprothan soldier’s boot crossed the invisible line I’d delineated in my head, I nocked my first arrow and shot him through the throat.
My shot was smooth, fast, almost effortless. It felt wrong to admire my new crossbow while the soldier bled his life away beneath us.
But I still gave it one quick, appreciative stroke.
These men were coming here to kill women and children. The sick and the old. I hardened myself and shot again. And again.
Also hidden behind rocks and trees nearby, the other archers fired as well. Those we didn’t hit made it to our front line.
Demos had divided our best shielders, putting some of them near the front lines and the remainder at the back, close to the entrance to the pass. If we fell—I refused to think the word when—those shielders would stand their ground, buying the hybrids within the pass as much time as they could.
Human soldiers with attack powers slammed those powers into our wards. From here, I could see four hybrids with defensive magic scattered throughout our front lines. One of them flinched, and a sea of fire suddenly swept toward our right flank, immediately doused by a hybrid who used some kind of water power.
The shielder rebuilt his ward, and all four of them held the line. I caught a glimpse of an Eprothan soldier screaming at their front lines—likely a general growing frustrated at the wasted power. I rolled my shoulders.
The closest soldiers were drained of magic and replaced twice before our shielders could no longer hold their wards. Demos roared an order, and they sprinted back toward us.
I shot faster than I’d ever shot before. Even as I chose each target, the sight of Demos and Tibris and Herne fighting together was imprinted on my mind. Stillcrest fought like a woman possessed just a few footspans away from them. Madinia had told us about her strange ideas about female and male roles in war––more common among humans. But clearly, she’d let those ideas go now.
When the archer next to me leaned too far to the right and was caught by an Eprothan bolt through the heart, there was no time to mourn. Leaning down, I picked up his quiver, slung it over my shoulder, and nocked my next arrow.
We began to take losses. One of the archers to my left screamed a name as a woman went down, his voice filled with horror and grief.
Blades clashed, magic attacks were rebuffed and then slipped through, killing any who were unable to be shielded.
But we had power of our own, and Demos unleashed the fae and hybrids. While I found myself longing for Madinia, Gwynara and the others were thinning Regner’s front lines.
And still, the Eprothan soldiers kept coming.
I reached for another arrow, my eyes automatically scanning for the best target. A soldier had pinned his gaze on Stillcrest, as she took down one of the men near him. He fought his way toward her, a bear of a man, huge in his armor.
My arrow took him in the arm. He snapped the end off and kept moving. My head spun.
“Stillcrest,” I screamed. “Demos!”
Neither of them could hear me over the sound of the battle.
I shot again, but the soldier darted to the right. Stillcrest’s shoulders tensed, and I saw the moment she realized he’d targeted her.
She turned, swinging her sword.
He matched it with his own sword. My next arrow took him in the gap in his armor, right beneath his arm pit.
Stillcrest’s sword broke beneath his. She ducked, backpedaling, but it was too late.
The Eprothan soldier shoved his sword between her ribs. My arrow hit him in the face, and he slumped.
I prepared to run. I could get Stillcrest to Tibris. I could—
Vicer was already dragging Stillcrest away as Demos and Herne stepped in to fill their places. Vicer had made it behind the front lines when he stopped, kneeling next to Stillcrest.
I couldn’t hear what she said to him as the blood poured from her mouth.
But I read his lips as he took her hand. “I forgive you.”
Her head fell back. She was gone.
My chest hollowed out. I hadn’t liked the woman. But she’d deserved better than this. We all deserved to live long enough to rectify our mistakes.
Vicer bowed his head for a single moment. And then he was forced to roll free as an Eprothan soldier lunged toward him.
Demos’s sword cut through the Eprothan’s neck, and I sighted my next target.
The sun began to sink below the tree line. Our front line lost ground, until they were positioned behind the barricade.
They held the Eprothans back for hours. Until we could barely aim our arrows, most of the light gone. The lump in my throat was so large, it seemed to have spread down to my chest, the pain of it constant.
Someone was suddenly hauling me to my feet. My shot went wide, and I cursed. Demos’s face appeared in front of mine.
“It’s time,” he said. “We have to fall back. Most of the hybrids should be through the pass now. Herne made sure Tibris left earlier. When you get to the end, ensure any who haven’t made it to the tunnel are well hidden in the caves.”
I nodded. Then I froze.
“When I get to the end?”
“In this light, with the higher ground, a few good soldiers can hold that entrance for hours.”
Terror engulfed me, almost taking me to my knees. Clearly, Demos had designated himself as one of those good soldiers.
“I’m a good soldier,” I croaked out.
Demos’s smile was slow, wicked, and entirely inappropriate. “You are a good soldier,” he purred.
I snarled at him. “I know what you’re doing.” Once again, he was attempting to distract me. But he couldn’t distract me from the thought of him standing just a few footspans into the pass, with an entire regiment attacking him.
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “It was always going to happen this way, Sin.”
I made a tiny, broken noise, and Demos pulled me into his arms. He didn’t give me any false assurances, though. Instead, he practically dragged me toward the pass. Clearly, he’d given up cajoling me and was moving straight into pushy, domineering arrogance.
I wasn’t surprised. This kind of behavior came much more naturally to him.
“You’re going to do this, Asinia.” His voice was grim. “You’re going to live through this war. And if I’m not around, you’re going to find a man who makes you happy. You’re going to become a renowned seamstress and have children who look exactly like you, and you’re going to live a long life filled with peace and happiness.”
“You fucking bastard,” I choked out. “How dare you?”
Demos waited for a group of other archers to sprint past, and then he continued yanking me after them.
“I can walk,” I snarled.
He released me. “Good. Go.”
I couldn’t resist kicking Demos in the shin. His brows drew together, and he suddenly looked pained— as if my boot had been made of lead—but he pointed at the pass. My throat thickened until it felt as if I couldn’t take a full breath. But Demos was standing defenseless, watching me, and the Eprothan soldiers were still coming.
Without another word, I went.
My rage lasted for approximately three minutes.
I knew Demos well enough to know he’d planned for that rage to last for the hours it would take me to traverse the pass. He’d imagined I’d burn through that rage all night, using it to drive me forward.
If I’d been Prisca or Madinia, perhaps it would have.
But I’d spent most of my childhood carefully sewing perfect stitches in the corner of our main room, while wealthier humans sneered at the home my mother had made. While they talked relentlessly of how the corrupt would die.
If I’d allowed myself to bask in my rage, it would have burned me alive long before Regner ever got the chance.
I’d gotten very good at tucking that rage away to examine later.
So, I would do that now. But oh, Demos was going to be very unhappy when we took that rage back out to look at together.
Taking a long, slow breath, I focused on why he wanted me gone—to save my life—and what I needed to do to save his.
He’d been right about one thing. The mouth of the pass was narrow enough that only four or five people could walk side by side. Here, the mountains were so close, it felt as if I could reach my arms out and touch both of them on either side.
As I hesitated, a group of soldiers ran past me. I recognized one of them as the archer who’d called out for the woman who had died on the front lines. His eyes were red, his face swollen. And yet he offered me a gentle smile.
“I know you’re scared,” he said. “But you have to move forward.”
“That’s very kind of you. But I’m not going forward. I’m going up.”
It took him a single moment to understand what I was going to do. And then he nodded. “I’m coming with you.”
I’d be a hypocrite if I attempted to stop him. And I could use the help. “Fine. Help me find the best way up.”
First, he stopped several more archers. “We need your arrows,” he said.
One of them opened her mouth to protest. Then she realized what we were up to. With a shake of her head that made it clear she was marveling at our stupidity, she handed over half of the arrows in her quiver.
So did the other archers.
“May the gods be with you,” they said. And then they were gone.
I stared at the man. He stared back.
“My name is Cryton,” he said.
“Asinia.”
He gestured at the rock to our right. “I think this is the best way. It’s close enough to the entrance that we won’t have to climb for long. See how it slopes down here?”
I did see. Already, I could hear swords clashing as our soldiers retreated toward us. We either had to move forward or go up. If we stayed here, we’d be in their way.
The Eprothans had brought light orbs with them. Without the glow from those orbs, we never could have made it up. I went first, my heart hammering in my chest as a pained scream sounded from just footspans away.
My breaths came in frantic, strained gasps.
“Fingers and toes,” Cryton said from below me. “Just remember to dig in as hard as you can.”
I nodded, although he likely couldn’t see it in the dim light. But I ran my hand up, searching for each little hold, mound, crack. The rock cut into my hands, making my palms slippery, and I pressed my hands harder into the stone. My new crossbow thumped across my shoulders, threatening to throw me off-balance. But the feel of it made Demos’s face flash before my eyes. The pride in his eyes when he’d realized how much I liked it. The fact that he’d found a gift so perfect for me.
I dug in deeper. When I dared to look up, pushing harder into the rock with my feet, I could see a tiny ledge, perhaps ten footspans above my head. Carved by the elements, it would provide just enough space for the two of us to position ourselves and enjoy an unobstructed view—as long as the ledge didn’t crumble beneath us.
A few more footspans of inching up the rock until I could reach for it, stretching my left hand high. My hand slid, and the shift in balance jolted the rest of my body, turning my mouth watery with fear.
But my gaze caught on another hold just a little lower—not quite as easy to grasp, but it would work. Slowly, carefully, I focused on each finger and toe, pressing them into the rock.
My legs began to shake.
“You can do it,” Cryton murmured. “Let’s make them pay, Asinia.”
I didn’t have any rage or vengeance left in me at that moment. But what I did have was terror. Terror for Demos, who might be bleeding and dying even now.
Letting out a strangled sob, I threw my hand over the edge and onto the ridge. My arms ached, but I hauled myself up, shifting over for Cryton.
For a moment, we jostled for space as both of us reached for our crossbows and quivers. And then, I nocked my first arrow.
We had a perfect vantage point.
And below me, Demos fought for his life.
Three Eprothans had pinned him, the rock at his back. My entire body jolted, and Cryton placed his hand on my arm.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he whispered.
One of the soldiers stepped forward, and then paused, hesitating. Ah. They hadn’t pinned him. He’d positioned himself strategically, the rock at his back. Each soldier needed room to attack, but with the three of them so close, Demos could easily notice any change in body language that warned of an impending attack. When the soldiers did make a move, they would get in one another’s way.
They had no choice but to attack as one.
My first arrow hit the closest soldier in the side of his neck. Demos kicked him free, and I saw the moment he realized what I’d done.
He never looked up. But he killed the other two with fresh rage. And the next three Eprothans who attacked after that.
That was fine. My fury had returned too. Because this was where Demos had decided to die. He knew eventually his sword arm would tire and his movements would slow. He was simply trying to take as many Eprothans with him as he could.
Cryton and I fired arrow after arrow. The soldiers hadn’t been expecting it, and several of them fell, making life difficult for those behind them, who were still attempting to get into the pass.
Cryton turned his attention to the Eprothans who still had some magic left, while I fired relentlessly at the closest soldiers.
They caught on to our position quickly, and their own archers began firing back. Both of us ducked our heads, and several arrows thunked into the rock behind us. My hands wanted to shake, but I clenched my teeth, forcing them to steady.
And then the Eprothans began screaming.
Not the soldiers closest to us.
But the Eprothans’ rear guard.
They were under attack.
The first fragile thread of hope wound through me. Please. Please.
“Who is it?” Cryton muttered.
“I don’t know.” I peered into the distance, where fae orbs cast a dim light over the Eprothans’ foot soldiers. “I think they’re humans. They’re not wearing uniforms or armor…”
The Eprothans began to scatter. Our soldiers sprinted into the pass, and Cryton and I kept firing, until most of the front lines decided not to follow them. One of their generals screamed at them to reform the lines, and Cryton’s arrow went through his eye.
I winced.
That was enough to buy us some time. Whoever was attacking, it would allow Demos and the others to get through the pass.
“Let’s go.”
Strangely, wiggling down the side of the rock was easier than going up had been. A few footspans from the ground, I let go, expecting my feet to hit the path.
Instead, I landed in someone’s arms.
Panic slammed into me, but it was Demos’s mouth that caught mine in a brief, hot kiss.
“One of these days you’re going to learn to follow my orders.”
“Who is it? Who is attacking?”
He shook his head with a stunned laugh. “Caddaril the Cleaver and his criminals. He must have rounded up several thousand men. I’m betting most of them abandoned Regner’s army or disappeared right around the time conscription was announced.”
Demos nodded at Cryton, and together with the remainder of Demos’s “good soldiers,” we sprinted into the pass.
Herne had talked us through what to do with his traps, and together, we rolled a dark red rock into place, covered up several neatly dug holes, and laid the trip ropes.
And then we ran.
The pass narrowed, and we only had a single light orb between us. Gwynara had waited for us, and my chest lightened at the sight of her, alive. But she was clearly out of magic, and she simply gave us a relieved nod.
Our sprint became a jog, which became a slow trudge.
The hours passed mostly in exhausted silence. Demos kept hold of my hand, refusing to release it. “We lost over half the hybrids we arrived with,” he told me at one point, his voice a low, lifeless murmur.
At least fifteen hundred hybrids hoping for a new life. For freedom.
Gone.
A voice came from someone’s trowth stone. Demos pulled it out of his pocket. Obviously, we were within distance, but from the monotonous sound of the voice calling to us, they’d been trying for some time.
“Here,” Demos said.
The voice came alive. “Help. We need help. Regner’s ships are moving into the Sleeping Sea to bring down the ward. And on land…the creatures…oh gods, no!”
The voice cut off.
The mountains around us seemed to cave in, and my mind turned blank.
Without a single word spoken, we began to run once more.
It felt as if it took years to get to the end of the pass. Even Gwynara began stumbling along with us, her natural fae grace no match for her exhaustion. The trail angled up, and then down. And then up once more.
Suddenly, the rock surrounding us seemed to fall away. And for a single moment, all I could see was a tapestry of stars above us. My legs trembled from our relentless pace, and after the silent oppressive confines of the pass, the frenetic energy of soldiers preparing once more for attack was jarring.
But beyond those soldiers, a few hundred footspans to our right, a dark, oily presence oozed across the ground.
I blinked, and the truth of what I was seeing settled on me like a boulder. Terrovians. Thousands of the four-legged fae creatures that Regner had twisted to obey his every whim.
“They’ve been there for some time,” one of the soldiers said. “Waiting for a signal likely.”
Demos nodded. “This is what Regner does. He targets morale. So by the time the battle is upon his enemies, they barely have any strength and courage left to summon.”
I swept my gaze over our soldiers. They were exhausted. It was clear with every long, slow blink. But they weren’t out of courage. They had no dearth of bravery. Even now, knowing what was about to happen, they were forming their lines, ready to die to protect the hybrids hidden in the caves nearby.
Something in my chest wrenched. They might never get to see the world we were hoping to create.
But they believed in that world enough to sacrifice everything for others to experience it.
“Well,” I said, licking my suddenly dry lips. “It’s a good thing we killed the last of his skyrions.”
A few people chuckled at that. Demos nudged me, and I realized he was guiding me to a sizable hill. It was almost a geographical anomaly, standing guard between the mountain pass and the sea. Covered in a patchwork of grasses and low shrubs, it offered the best possible view of the area. Natural rock formations and scattered trees provided some cover, and already, tents were being set up for generals and healers.
My thighs burned as I followed him up the craggy side of the hill.
“Something’s happening!” a voice shouted.
Regner’s fleet was positioned in the distance. Thousands of ships, small enough from here that they appeared as nonthreatening as dinghies.
But a solitary ship approached from the north, arrowing toward shore. It was also one of Regner’s, but it was being followed by at least ten other ships—almost as if it were being chased.
A fight broke out between the ships. Even from here, I could see the spark of weapons as Regner’s captains all turned on that single ship.
A strange disquiet slid between my ribs.
The ship blew apart. No one spoke. And I had the horrible feeling that whoever had been on that ship had come to help us.
One of Regner’s ships moved too far south—crossing an invisible line. A long, scaled tail slipped from the water and smashed into the hull again and again and again. A savage vindication filled me as the ship began to sink.
As long as those wards stayed up, the serpents would see any ship in their waters as an attack.
More of Regner’s ships lingered in the distance.
Demos stiffened. “They’re trying to shift the wards. I can feel it.”
I shuddered.
Almost immediately, one of the archers brought Demos a trowth stone. He eyed it. “Report.”
“The scout who contacted you…” the voice said. “He got too close to one of the creatures. It…took him.”
I glanced away. Beneath the soldiers’ murmurings, I could hear the crash of the waves against the shore. And I watched as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, painting the sky in strokes of soft pinks and oranges. The light illuminated Regner’s ships in the north, unable to come closer until they brought down our kingdom’s wards.
Turning my gaze back to the sunrise, I ignored the enemy ships silhouetted against the glowing backdrop of the sun. I ignored the staggering number of banners flying menacingly in the morning breeze. I ignored the growls of the terrovians and the way every hair on my body stood at attention.
For a brief moment, I watched the sun climb above the water. And it felt like a gift.