30 ASINIA
Our people died courageously. With weapons in their hands and fury in their eyes. With bared teeth and shields held high as they protected our most vulnerable.
But still, they died.
And died.
And died.
When Demos began steadily cursing, I knew Regner had managed to shift Lyrinore’s wards. Our kingdom was defenseless.
And Regner’s ships began to sail south without repercussions—just as the terrovians attacked. Our own wards were only useful for magical attacks, and so our warders were hidden away, where they might do some good when Regner’s foot soldiers came for the hybrid children.
Cryton and I were perched on a rock about five footspans high. And together, we fired at the creatures again and again.
“They don’t like the water,” Cryton said suddenly, raising his head.
I watched. He was right. Any terrovians who came close to the seawater would instantly flee backward, far from their kin, as they continued to attack.
My heart pounded as I picked up the trowth stone Demos had left with us.
“Drive them toward the sea!” I yelled into it. “They hate the salt water.”
Demos didn’t reply. I searched for him, my gaze finding him fighting at the front, dispatching terrovians so fast, his sword was a blur. But he must have heard my voice coming from the trowth stone in his tunic, because he began roaring instructions. Slowly, our people began pushing the terrovians toward the shoreline. More and more of the creatures began to flee.
But it wasn’t enough.
In the wide expanse of the sea, more of Regner’s fleet had arrived. They knew we were here, and they knew we had the better location, even if we were horrifyingly outnumbered. When they attacked, they would march together, wiping us out with methodical precision.
“What the fuck is that?” Cryton yelled.
I whipped my head in the direction he was pointing. A few hundred footspans from us, where Prisca had dropped into the tunnel to our kingdom…
Vynthar sprinted toward us. And at least fifteen other Drakoryx loped out with him.
My heart tripped. I remembered Telean telling me there were so few Drakoryx left, to see even one was considered a special event.
Of course, if they didn’t consider you worthy, they would also be the last sight you’d ever see.
The Drakoryx tore into the terrovians with a viciousness that made the fae creatures seem meek by comparison. The hybrids who’d never seen them were visibly shocked, but they immediately roared their approval.
I continued firing. But I was almost out of arrows.
Fog filled my head, a heavy weight pressing on the back of my neck.
Someone began cheering hoarsely. Others joined in.
I scrambled for a better view, almost falling off my rock.
My throat ached viciously. My lower lip trembled until I sank my teeth into it. But I couldn’t hide the tears rolling down my cheeks in twin rivers.
In the distance, behind the terrovians, Prisca and Lorian rode toward us on horseback, Galon and Marth by their sides.
Rekja rode near Prisca and Lorian, Thora on one side, Tor on the other.
And behind them was an army.
The army that had somehow made it across the pass before Regner’s foot soldiers. Fae, humans, and hybrids marching together for a better life.
And in the Sleeping Sea…Daharak Rostamir’s fleet slammed into Regner’s ships.
I’d lost track of time again.
When Miric left, Rythos had sat on my bed. Slowly, in a whisper so faint I’d barely heard him, he’d relayed their conversation.
Miric would try to find a way to get us out of here. But it would take some time. Time that Rythos needed to use to distract his brother. To bargain with him.
While Rythos’s cousin had warned that Brevan would be coming “soon,” it was still hours before the Arslan prince strolled through the main cell door.
“You know what I want,” he said, meeting Rythos’s eyes.
“My power only allows the council to feel friendship, Brevan. If they’ve continued to work to prepare our fleet, perhaps it is because they truly feel it is necessary.”
“Then remove your power and let us see what happens.”
“I will.”
Triumph flickered across Brevan’s face, almost too quickly for me to catch it. But I had.
“Your father sent you down here?” I smirked at him. “Why doesn’t he come down himself?”
Brevan ignored me. But several tiny lines appeared next to his eyes. Tension.
Rythos shot me a warning look before turning back to his brother.
“I will remove any remaining power from the council,” Rythos conceded, and I considered finding the cheese knife once more. “But only if you will agree to listen to what I have to say.”
Fury raged in his brother’s eyes. “I know what you will say. You want our fleet for your own use. Even after leaving this island so many years ago, you believe you can now come back and take whatever you want.”
Rythos stared at him. “That’s what you think this is?”
Brevan’s expression grew flat once more. But Rythos let out a disbelieving laugh. “This is no power struggle. This is about the future of this continent.”
His brother paused. After a long moment, he waved his hand. “Then speak.”
And so Rythos spoke. He told his brother about meeting Prisca and learning she was the hybrid heir. He told him of the grasp Regner had on his kingdom—but that it would never be enough. He told him of the invasion of Gromalia, and how Rekja had been forced to concede the kingdom’s shining star to Regner’s soldiers.
He told him of Prisca and Lorian and their mating and marriage.
He told him of the barrier, and how bringing it down had given thousands of humans back their power.
Brevan had a chair brought in at one point, and food was delivered for all of us. I’d expected him to lose interest by now, but he was clearly a man of his word, because he gestured at Rythos to continue.
Likely, Brevan was simply toying with him.
But Rythos told him of the spiders. He told him about Cavis and exactly what had happened to the man he’d considered a true brother. Brevan’s eyes had flashed at that, and Rythos simply continued speaking. He told him of Cavis’s sacrifice and warned him of just how many spiders Regner had in various courts.
Finally, Rythos fell silent, his voice hoarse.
But not before telling his brother one final thing.
“If you help us, I promise I will never return.”
Brevan studied him. And I couldn’t read his expression. “That would be too easy.”
Confusion flickered across Rythos’s face.
“You never wish to return,” Brevan clarified. “For you to stay away and live a life of ease and little responsibility would be a reward. One you haven’t earned.”
“He has spent his life fighting for the future of all four kingdoms,” I snarled. “What exactly have you done?”
Brevan ignored me, although those lines had appeared near his eyes once more.
His gaze was steady as he looked at Rythos. “When this war is won, you will not go to the hybrid kingdom with your friends. You will not live out your days in indulgent luxury. No, you will return here. And you will serve beneath me when I am crowned.”
“You fucking bastard,” I breathed.
Brevan glanced at me then. “I suggest you hold your tongue.”
Rythos took a deep, shuddering breath. And I watched as he pictured his future—the life he had earned with each drop of blood spilled for the hybrids and fae. Grief hunched his shoulders and twisted his mouth. And Rythos let that future go.
“I agree,” he said.
We’d spent so much time in such close quarters that even the way Rythos breathed currently irritated me. And yet my stomach churned at the bleak hopelessness in his eyes.
Brevan nodded. “In that case, I will order the council members here tomorrow.”
Rythos jumped to his feet. “Tomorrow is too late. Brevan, please—”
“It will have to do.”
Getting to his feet, he turned and walked out of the corridor.
Regner wasn’t here. But he was close.
I could practically feel him as our army marched toward the wide shoreline where his monsters had pinned our people. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Tor riding like he’d been born in the saddle, Rekja close to his side. The Gromalian prince had personally guarded him every moment since we’d left.
Wild green eyes met mine. And the steadiness in them calmed the worst of my fear. “Are you ready, wildcat?”
“Yes.”
Lorian’s power swept out of him, the fae fire incinerating at least ten thousand snarling creatures.
Pulling at the threads of my power, I froze time for the creatures that remained too close to our own people to risk using fae fire.
And I paused time for the fae fire too.
This would have been impossible just weeks ago when we brought down the barrier. Now, it was as if I had stepped into my power in a way I had never imagined I could.
Galon urged his horse forward, his water ready. Marth already had a huge canvas sack of damask powder, and as we watched, he threw it into the air.
Right into the path of Galon’s water. It soaked into Lorian’s fae fire, ensuring that when time resumed, it wouldn’t spread to the forest—and to our own people.
“Go!” Marth yelled.
Whoops and screams of frenzied delight rang out as our soldiers filed past, killing as many terrovians as they could while they were vulnerable.
Kaliera looked as if she’d tasted something terrible.
I gave her a wide smile. I hadn’t wanted to waste one drop of my power proving myself. Because I’d needed it for this.
Zathrian snorted out a laugh. I ignored him, nudged my horse, and rode toward my brothers.
“Faster!” Marth roared.
Hooves and boots thumped against the hard sand, increasing the pace but remaining in sync.
I was attempting to make this look easy. Like it didn’t cost me. But gods, it did. Stopping time for this many creatures, and holding it for this long…
And still…if I hadn’t been unable to use my power for so many weeks, I wouldn’t have had enough strength to hold time hostage for this long.
Our army was only halfway past their lines when I had to let the threads go. I couldn’t risk burning out. Not before we killed Regner.
Steeling myself, I glanced over my shoulder.
One moment, the terrovians had been slaughtering our people.
And the next, thousands of our soldiers were fighting in their place from the edge of the forest to the wide expanse of sand.
“Toward the sea!” someone roared from the hybrids waiting ahead of us. “Turn them toward the sea.”
Lorian used his lightning now, sweeping a long, hair-raising blue bolt from the west side of the island near the forest, across the sand.
Terrovians touched by Lorian’s power died instantly. Those that were forced back close to the seawater turned and sprinted away.
I blinked. Was that—
There.
Preventing the terrovians from fleeing toward our people…
A group of Drakoryx.
Vynthar leading them as he snarled threateningly, refusing to cede a single inch of ground. I swallowed a sob. My friend hadn’t abandoned us. No, he’d gone to gather the remainder of his kind.
And by fighting with us here today, they were risking their extinction.
“They’ll reform the lines when Regner’s foot soldiers arrive,” Lorian said. “But for now, we’ve achieved what we needed to.”
Shouts and laughs, and joyous hollers broke out when we made it to the hybrids near the pass. We were directed toward a hill that seemed to be an extension of the mountains, and Demos wrapped his arms around me.
We’d made it in time. My heart soared, and for just a moment, I could forget everything else except for the fact that he was still alive.
“That was quite an entrance,” he rumbled.
“I thought you’d appreciate it,” I pulled away. “Tibris? Asinia? Vicer?”
“All alive.”
My breath shuddered out of my lungs, my knees weakening. But despite the joy that had lightened his expression, his eyes were flat.
My smile faltered. “How many, Demos?”
“Two-thirds of the hybrids you sent with Vicer. They died protecting our most vulnerable.”
Heat seared the backs of my eyes. “We sent sixteen hybrids ahead of us. Some of our most powerful people.”
“They were in one of Regner’s ships?”
“Yes.”
“Something went wrong. We watched as Regner killed them.”
I closed my eyes. Orivan had been convinced that the hybrids were some of the best shielders in our army. But Regner had prepared for them.
“Pris?” Demos’s voice was soft.
I opened my eyes. This was not the time to fall apart. That would come later.
He pressed something cool into my hand and I glanced down. The amulet. My throat tightened. “Thank you.”
“I couldn’t have done it without Asinia.” He glanced over my shoulder, and I pivoted.
Asinia, Tibris, and Vicer strode through the crowd, picking their way through tents and a few fires already burning. Behind them, I caught a glimpse of a man who must be Herne.
He walked with the stride of someone who was used to giving orders. Our eyes met, and he sliced a single glance at Tibris.
In that glance, I saw a kind of bemused affection. Like Herne wasn’t sure exactly how he’d ended up here, but he’d stay as long as Tibris was by his side.
They reached me, and as I hugged Asinia and Tibris, the heavy stone I’d been carrying in my gut disappeared. Tibris stepped back. “Pris, this is Herne.”
Herne gave me a steady look. And he bowed his head. “Majesty.”
“Call me Prisca. Thank you for keeping my brother safe.”
Humor flickered in Herne’s eyes, and next to him, Tibris’s posture visibly relaxed.
“You brought your rebels,” I said.
“I did. You’ve given us all something to believe in.”
“Your Majesty?” a gruff voice said. I turned.
“Dashiel?”
He grinned at me. I barely recognized him from his time in Regner’s dungeon. I’d promised him vengeance for his brother’s death. And now he was taking it. And next to him…
“Margie!” It had been too long since I’d seen the woman who considered Vicer her adopted son. She patted my back when I hugged her.
“It’s good to see you. Let me know when you need something to eat.”
Demos let out a low curse, and I turned. He was staring down at the ground below us, where a few of our soldiers had ordered Zathrian and Kaliera off their horses.
“You didn’t kill Zathrian?”
I delicately cleared my throat. “I felt his arrest would have more impact.”
Demos rolled his eyes.
I ignored that. “Where’s Telean?”
“We evacuated her from the hybrid camp this morning. She should currently be safe in one of the caves—if she actually followed orders for once.”
“She did not.”
I grinned at my aunt’s displeased tone, turning to find her standing next to Lorian. She’d planted her hands on her hips, and while exhaustion lined her face, her gaze softened as it met mine.
Demos just sighed. But his eyes lit up as he glanced behind me.
“Rostamir came through.”
“She did. No sign of Conreth or Rythos?”
“No.”
My stomach twisted. I turned my gaze to our soldiers, where our generals were forming their lines. Regner’s ships were currently preoccupied with defending themselves from Daharak’s fleet. But when we’d met up with Rekja, he’d told us the Eprothan soldiers were just a few hours behind them, making their way across the Normathe Mountains.
And their numbers…
Even without the terrovians Regner was guaranteed to send thundering back toward us, the Eprothans outnumbered us at least two to one.
But it wasn’t just the numbers that we needed. Conreth wore one of the fae amulets. Which meant we couldn’t kill Regner without him.
Blynth strode past, nodding at Demos, and I knew they would soon be discussing strategy. Apparently, when Rekja had learned of the Eprothans’ true plans, he’d convinced the general to begin moving our army north.
While Blynth had met Rekja in his capital, they’d also shared a drink at our wedding. So he’d trusted the Gromalian prince enough to order our soldiers to march before receiving my message confirming the order.
Telean held up her hand. “Eye tonics,” she said, handing out vials to each of us without fae senses. “They’ve been created to last for a few days.”
My aunt was always thinking about these kinds of things. I took my vial as the others did the same and downed it, grimacing. Whatever had been added for longevity had given it a sour, spoiled aftertaste. “Thank you, Telean.”
I glanced around. Lorian had moved away to speak to Rekja.
“If we only have hours, we need to make the most of it,” Demos said, handing his empty vial back to Telean. “No one slept last night. I’m ordering our people to rest in shifts until our scouts report a sighting of Regner’s foot soldiers. In the meantime, I’ve posted three of my most trusted guards on Tor. No one will get to him, Pris.”
My breath shuddered out of me. I wouldn’t be surprised if Regner knew Tor’s power was our only hope.
“The hybrids who made it through the pass?” I asked.
“They’re in the caves. I wanted to try to get them to the tunnel when we arrived, but…one of the terrovians killed a scout who got too close. There’s no way they would have made it.”
“The elders?”
“Nothing from them yet.”
Bitterness flooded my mouth, but I swallowed it down. Demos was watching me closely. “I want to show you something,” he said. “Follow me.”
Lorian’s gaze immediately found mine as he noted me leaving. He was at my side a moment later, and I held out the amulet.
His lips curved, and he handed it to Galon, who was the closest. Both amulets gleamed in the sunlight as Galon slipped it over his head.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
Lorian didn’t look happy, but he nodded at Demos.
The forest wasn’t as lush along this part of the shore as it was just a little south, where I’d docked last time I’d been on this continent. Scraggly undergrowth caught at my boots as Demos led me away from the hill where we’d set up camp. But within a few minutes, I heard voices.
“There are hundreds of caves here,” Demos said. “Some of them are more shallow shelters than anything else. Others are deep and wide enough to hold twenty or thirty hybrids.”
In one of the caves, a child was chortling—one of those belly laughs that made anyone within earshot smile. The first cave was partly hidden by the trees and underbrush, situated on the higher ground, where the forest met the base of the mountain. The mouth of the cave was shielded by overhanging foliage, making it difficult to spot.
I peered inside. Several wide eyes met mine.
“It’s the queen,” a small boy hissed. “I met the prince too.”
“Did not.”
“Did too!”
Demos leaned over my shoulder.
“See! That’s him!”
I hid my smile.
“Shh,” a harried-looking woman shushed them. She bowed her head. “Your Majesty.”
“Do you need anything?”
“The others have ensured we have enough food and blankets for a few days. Thank you.” Her terror was evident in her wide eyes, the tremble of her lower lip. But she glanced at the children watching us closely and squared her shoulders, firming her mouth.
“If we get the chance to move you to the tunnel, can you all be ready?”
The woman gave me a nod, her gray eyes flashing in the dim light. “We’ll move quickly.”
“Stay safe.”
“You too. May the gods bless you.”
Demos jerked his head, and I followed him away from the cave. “Why did you want me to see them?” I asked.
“Because I saw your face when you learned how many people we’d lost. And we’re going to lose thousands more, Pris. If Rythos and Conreth don’t get here in time… we’re all dead. All of us. There will be no one left to save.”
I took a shaky breath. “And you wanted to remind me that the children were relying on us?”
“No.” His mouth firmed. “I wanted to remind you that we’re fighting for more than just our lives. Every decision we make will come down to one question—will this ensure the children of Lyrinore have a future?”
I glanced at another cave, not as well hidden as the others but guarded by two hybrid soldiers who bowed their heads at us. “And that cave?”
Demos’s mouth tightened. “Prisoners.”
“What kinds of prisoners?” Had we taken some of Regner’s soldiers?
“Spiders.” Demos hesitated. “Finley is in there, Prisca.”
I met his eyes. Demos had told me what Finley had done. How he’d used his replication magic for Regner. None of us could figure out the timeline of when it had occurred. But no one had kept a close eye on his comings and goings. Because no one had suspected him. And clearly, we had all come to the wrong conclusion about Regner’s dark magic.
He no longer needed to twist our people’s minds when they were children. He could now do it to anyone of any age.
“I want to see him.”
Demos nodded, as if he’d expected that.
“He helped us in so many ways, Demos. He proved over and over he was on our side.” I could hear myself. Could hear the denial in my voice. But…
“So did Cavis,” Demos said, his voice gentle. “Regner getting to Finley doesn’t make him evil, Pris. It just means we can’t trust him until we find a way to reverse Regner’s filthy magic. And we need to keep him where we can see him.”
The cave was dim, lit only by a few light orbs. Finley was the closest prisoner to the cave entrance. The moment I saw him, leaning against the cave wall, his head on his knees, I had to suppress my instinct to instantly order for him to be unchained.
He’d only seen sixteen winters.
And then he lifted his head. Demos leaned down and swept a hunk of Finley’s curly brown hair away. The web crawled across his temple, disappearing into his hairline and peeking out across the shell of his ear. And his eyes… Gone was the shy boy who’d replicated my dagger. Now, his eyes were dazed, confused, almost blank. Just as Cavis’s had been.
My head spun, and I stumbled.
“Pris…” Demos caught my arm and yanked me from the cave.
“I’m sorry.” Bile crawled up my throat, and I panted, clamping down on the urge to vomit.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I should have thought… I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“How many more?”
“I don’t know. There are another ten proven spiders in that cave, and a handful of others died while traveling with Vicer and the hybrids.”
Kaliera and Zathrian walked toward us, surrounded by three guards. I’d managed to stifle my emotions when I interacted with them. But seeing them strolling toward us as if they were inconvenienced, watching my cousin, who was a traitor to our people by choice, directly after seeing Finley, whose will had been stolen from him…
Zathrian’s gaze met mine and immediately flicked away.
“Demos,” he said. “Put a sword in my hand.”
Demos’s expression was cold. “So you can use it to stab us in the back?”
“I’ll keep the manacles on. Just let me fight for the hybrids. Please.” Desperation and false sincerity glittered in his eyes. He was nothing but a honey-tongued liar.
“You’ve never fought for the hybrids a day in your life,” Demos said. “Why would you start now?”
I must have made some kind of sound, because Demos met my eyes. “You cannot be serious.”
Zathrian smiled. Because he thought I was soft. Weak.
I looked at him, and his smile disappeared. “He’s an inconvenience,” I said to Demos, my gaze still on our cousin. “A loose end. What kind of future does he have in our kingdom after everything he’s done? And I don’t want to begin my rule by killing a family member. He knows if he tries anything, Lorian will make his death last for years. Let him die fighting instead.”
I’d shown him mercy. Dying with a sword in his hand was more than he deserved. Surely my grandmother couldn’t expect more than this. Zathrian and I stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, he nodded, his expression tight.
“Fine,” Demos growled. “She goes nowhere,” he said to the guards on either side of Kaliera. She gave my brother that cold, haughty stare I’d seen often while in her castle.
“Watch her the way you’d watch a poisonous snake slithering toward one of your children,” I said.
Kaliera looked at me now, and I could almost see her planning my death. I gave her a cool smile as Demos nodded at one of the guards, who unchained Zathrian, leaving the heavy manacles around his hands. They would stop him from interfering with my power, but he would indeed be able to swing a sword.
If he wanted to go down fighting while pretending that he truly did have our people’s interests at heart…
Fine. We needed every soldier we could get at this point.
Zathrian was silent as he followed Demos and me out of the forest and onto the shore. Just a hundred footspans from here, the ground became hard sand. A few hundred footspans more, and it turned soft. That sand would leach our soldiers’ energy with every step.
Marth took one look at Zathrian and shook his head at me.
I wrinkled my nose back at him, and he laughed.
Lorian appeared by my side. Leaning over, he whispered something in Zathrian’s ear. My cousin’s face drained of color, until he was almost gray. Lorian gave him a feral smile and slapped him on the back.
Demos gestured at one of the soldiers to give Zathrian a sword, and Lorian tensed, moving even closer to me.
A horn sounded.
Rough curses followed from everyone around me. I barely noticed. I was too busy watching the remainder of Regner’s army appear in the north.
They came in an endless stream, like a dark river flowing down from the cold heart of the mountains, their black armor swallowing the light. As they filed onto the beach, it was as if they were crawling across the sand like lice, their armor a perfect match to the terrovians’ dark, oily pelts.
But it was the noise that replaced my heartbeat, turning my knees weak. Their march was a constant, oppressive rumble. A reminder of just how heavily we would be outnumbered. From my vantage point, it was easy to see their formation cutting across the landscape, as the army fell into line after line.
My entire body went numb. But our soldiers watched me from all directions. I couldn’t afford to show a hint of fear. Not a single drop of weakness. Forcing my trembling knees to straighten, I lifted my head, curling my lip at the sight of Regner’s army.
Lorian stepped closer, the warmth of his body a silent comfort.
“They’re still coming,” I whispered, knowing he would hear.
“Yes.”
Lorian had never once softened the truth to make it more palatable for me. He wasn’t about to start now.
But he would be by my side until the end. Of that, I had no doubt.
His eyes met mine. “It’s time.”
A chill slid over me as I donned the armor Lorian had commissioned for me.
My palms turned slick with sweat. Nausea slithered through my gut as I swept my gaze over our people, standing in lines that seemed to stretch for thousands of footspans—until I imagined double those numbers marching toward us.
My gaze found Rekja’s. The Gromalian king stared calmly back at me, refusing to give in to fear or hopelessness.
There was no separation between soldiers wearing Gromalian green stripes on their helmets and those who were not. Our people would fight side by side, and we would live or die by this decision.
Thousands of gazes still clung to my face. I could feel them. Could feel their hopes and fears.
Regner’s foot soldiers continued to file onto the shore. But Regner hadn’t been able to resist gilding their helmets. The sun glinted off the gold.
“That gold will make it easy to see who to kill,” Orivan said, stepping up next to me. Both he and Blynth had considered attacking now, while Regner was still forming his lines. But Rekja and Demos had won that argument.
We needed every second we could find. Because all of us were still holding out hope that reinforcements would arrive.
“Tor?” I asked.
“Safe,” Demos said. “He knows what to do. And he’ll wait for our signal.”
“Your Majesty!” someone yelled.
And that’s when I saw it. Even with the charm Telean had given me, it was impossible to tell what was stumbling toward us.
Or who.
I frowned, squinting. It was a man. A man who staggered on the sand, almost falling.
My breath caught in my throat, and I broke into a run.
Lorian plucked me out of the air. “No, Prisca.”
Vicer lunged forward, slamming into Demos, who blocked his way. Vicer let out a string of curses. “It’s Natan, you cold bastard.”
“Regner is waiting for you to go to him,” Demos snarled. “His archers are poised. We wait until he’s close enough that our wards can cover you.”
I squinted into the distance. Natan shuffled along so slowly, it was clear he was critically wounded.
“Get Tibris,” I choked out.
Movement behind me. Someone turned and ran.
“This was my call,” Demos said softly. “I told him to slow them down. Natan knew exactly what he was doing, Prisca. He knew the risks.”
I couldn’t speak. Not without tears rolling down my cheeks. And I wouldn’t allow our soldiers to see that. But gods, I wanted every single person in all four kingdoms to know that the reason Rekja’s army made it before Regner’s was because of the courageous man limping toward us.
He’d bought us much-needed time. And he’d paid for it.
Natan wore no shirt. Which made it easy to see the daggers that had been stabbed into his chest and stomach. Thin black lines curved out from those daggers, indicating poison. His feet were bloody, and his hands had been tied behind his back.
“Tibris is here,” Demos whispered. “Just a few moments longer, Pris.”
It felt as if it was years before Natan was within our wards. The moment he made it, several of our soldiers leaped forward, catching him as he fell to his knees and slicing the rope from his wrists.
Regner’s soldiers instantly slammed their power into those wards. But Tibris and Vicer had already shoved past Demos, crouching by Natan’s side.
I followed them, dropping to the ground.
Natan’s eyes met mine. He attempted to speak but couldn’t.
“Water,” Vicer demanded.
Someone handed him a waterskin. Natan managed a couple of sips.
“We need to remove the knives,” Tibris said, holding his hands against Natan’s chest. “But we need another healer to help. The poison…”
Natan caught his hand. “We both…know…not… living through…this.”
“Yes, you are,” I said, turning my head. “Healer!”
One of the fae healers rushed forward. When she saw Natan, she inhaled sharply.
Natan dropped his gaze to the daggers in his torso. “Worth it,” he said.
“Natan…” My voice broke.
“Home,” he whispered.
“Yes,” Vicer said, taking his hand. Why wasn’t he doing something? Why wasn’t he—
“We’ll bury you at home.” Tibris’s face was grief-stricken, his eyes hollow. Natan was his oldest friend. If there was anything to be done, he would be doing it.
No. Please no.
Natan smiled at Tibris and Vicer. He turned that smile to me.
He was still smiling as he died.
My blood went cold. I got to my feet. “Stone,” I said.
Demos must have known I wasn’t asking for a trowth stone. Instead, he handed me a small red nerth stone, designed to make my voice carry across a large crowd.
“This is what Regner does,” I said. My voice shook with rage, and I forced myself to firm it. “He creates loss and then basks in it. He creates lies and then enjoys the lack of trust. He creates hopelessness and benefits from the lives spent lost to it.
“But this is not what we do. We create joy. We create friendship. We create life and love and hope. And when we have to—when someone forces us to—we create death. Today, we will make Regner regret choosing to target our people. We will make him regret the grief and loss and hopelessness he has wielded for centuries. We will defend our kingdoms and refuse to yield to the madness of the Eprothan king.”
Cheers sounded, our soldiers thrusting their swords into the air. There would be time for mourning later. For now, I couldn’t afford to let Regner’s evil chew at me. I handed the stone back to Demos. He said something into the stone, and our people began to march.
In front of us, Regner’s soldiers were doing the same.
Most of his left flank was made up of terrovians. Lorian had killed many of his skyrions when they’d attacked Sorlithia, and Asinia and Demos had clearly taken care of the rest when they’d destroyed Regner’s mine. Even as the thought pleased me, I found myself staring at the snarling, four-legged creatures slinking toward us.
I knew why Regner had placed them closest to the forest. To the mountains.
Because when he cut through our army, those creatures would be the best suited for hunting down anyone who thought to run. They’d sniff out hybrids in the caves, in the forest, or fleeing back through the pass.
“We need to kill the terrovians fast.”
“We do,” Demos said. He nodded at Vynthar and the other Drakoryx prowling toward the terrovians. “And we will.”
Nearby, Lorian was speaking with Galon and Marth.
“For Cavis,” he said.
“For Cavis.” Marth’s voice was hoarse.
“For Cavis,” Galon agreed. “And for us.” His gaze drifted over the soldiers before landing on Natan’s body, Tibris and Vicer still at his side. “For all of us.”