Chapter Seventy-Seven
My heart drops. My knees nearly buckle.
He’s alive. He’s alive.
Bleeding scrapes and gashes line his face and arms, but besides that, he appears uninjured. A large sword dangles from his hand, glinting red with blood.
Zev’s pounding footsteps draw the attention of the remaining Arbinji soldiers. Their mouths part.
“Commander!” one of them shouts. “It’s the Comm—” A thick root tunnels through his abdomen, emerging on the other side covered in dark, thick blood. His knees squelch as they collide with the damp earth.
Zev doesn’t spare a glance for the dead man. His eyes are fixed on me. Five more strides, and I can touch him. I can tell him how I’ve agonized about whether he still lived.
Tumaas beats me to it. “Thanks for not dying,” he says to Zev. He jerks his head toward me. “She’s been driving herself—and us—insane.”
Zev’s eyes blaze with the force of a tempest as he looks at me. My voice catches in my throat.
“We need to find Sura,” Tumaas says, glancing between us.
“She’s in the children’s tent,” Zev replies, still looking me over. “There’s a safe room dug beneath the floor.”
“You saw her?” I ask.
“Yeah. I went there first. I thought you might—” He cuts off abruptly, gesturing impatiently at Tumaas. “Go check on her and the kids. They were fine when I left, but that could’ve changed. Stay with them.”
Tumaas looks poised to argue, Zev’s commands grating at him. But in the end, all he says is, “Tides protect you.” I’m not sure if he’s speaking to me or Zev. A single nod, and then he and Mona dart off.
I raise my glowing palms to Zev’s face, but he clasps them, bringing them down to my sides.
“Save your reserves,” he says gruffly. “You’ll need them.” Rough hands cradle my face, tilting my chin to inspect the shallow cuts marring my face.
“I’m fine,” I whisper. “It’s—it’s Arbinj.”
He nods, his expression grave. “They’re here to rescue me.”
Ice frosts my veins.
“Do—do you want to be rescued?”
His gaze cuts away. “Even if I return with them, they won’t let anyone here live.” His jaw clenches. “So, no. I don’t want to be rescued.”
I don’t know how long we run through the camp, stopping and helping where we can. Digging people out from rubble, killing Arbinji soldiers along the way.
My clothing is drenched with more foreign blood than rainwater by the time we reach the kitchens.
There are more rebels here, wielders scrounging for whatever they can find to maintain their reserves.
Zev cuts through the panic, his massive body easily weaving through the crowd.
He returns with two loaves of bread and three apples and thrusts them at me.
“Eat.”
Crumbs scatter across the muddy floor as I tear a loaf in half and hand it to him, along with two apples.
We eat quickly, then emerge back into the frenzy.
So much pain. So much death.
We’ve rounded a corner when a wave of water crashes into us, sending me tumbling into Zev. He catches me, hands clutching my hips. I’ve scarcely regained my bearings when another wave swirls up to my thighs.
And freezes.
My head shoots up.
Three warriors stand before us, clad in blue and white.
Tundraynis.
Hatred twists their expressions as they launch ice spears at us. I barely manage to raise a wall of ice in time. Quickly, I melt the ice around our legs, dropping into a defensive stance.
“I don’t want to hurt you!” I shout, hands raised in surrender.
Another ice spear hurtles toward me, barely deflected in time.
“Traitor!” one of the waterwielders shouts back, launching another spear. “Arbinji whore!” shouts another.
The sky booms.
Zev raises a hand.
Lightning kills them both.
I flinch. My eyes find the third warrior. Her eyes are deep blue like Sura’s.
My hand hesitates. Just for a breath. But it’s enough time for guilt to wedge itself deep.
I kill her anyway.
Tundrayn is here, too.
And it’s not to rescue me.
Not too far from where we killed the waterwielders, the rebels have organized a makeshift command center, guarded by wielders and armed nonwielders—it’s where we find Tairna, standing before the assembled crowd. She appears relatively unharmed. Some of the tension melts from Zev’s shoulders.
Tairna’s voice is steady as she gives orders. One team is assigned to dig out survivors from leveled buildings and evacuate those in the ones still standing. Another team to man the east side of the camp, and a third defending the west side.
“One more team to patrol the perimeter,” Zev calls. Heads swivel in our direction. “I’ll lead.”
Tairna freezes, eyes wide. Then, she’s shouldering her way through the crowd, dark tunic fluttering. She knocks into Zev with the force of a maelstrom, twining her arms around him. For several heartbeats, she doesn’t move.
Then, she turns to me. I don’t know what I expect—a nod, maybe, or one of her warm smiles. But her arms wrap around me like I belong to her, too. My body is stiff for only a second before I melt into her embrace.
She cradles my face, eyes glistening with tears, before tugging Zev into the hug along with her. The sight of her tears, for me, elicits an unfamiliar warmth. One minute is all she allows us, one minute wrapped in each other’s arms. For that brief moment, I pretend this is real.
That we’re a family.
Then she lets go—draws back and steels herself, a commander in her own right.
“Send a missive to the Volcans and the other rebel camps. Tell them to send as many men as they can spare,” Zev says.
“I already did. I don’t know how long it will take, though. We need to hold them off until then.”
“We will.” Zev is sure. Solid. “I’ll round up the men for the perimeter.” He walks away. I follow him.
“Mayah”—Tairna grabs my hand—“we can’t risk anything happening to you. When the dust settles, you need to lead.”
I glance down at her hand, laced with mine. I squeeze it gently.
“I go with Zev.”
Tairna looks distressed. She turns to her son with anguished eyes. “Zev. She cannot go with you.”
Zev doesn’t answer immediately. Just studies my face. Then, he takes my hand from hers and laces his long fingers through mine. “There’s no stopping her, Mother. I’ll protect her. Or I’ll die.”
A shuddering sob wrenches from Tairna’s chest when Zev calls her mother. She embraces us once more. Then, without another word, she returns to the front of the room.
“I’ll have to summon lightning,” Zev says quietly as we exit the command center.
“I know. I’m ready.”
Zev rounds up his team, the largest of the four, men and women with solemn faces staring at him. Rain pelts our faces, turning the ground into muck beneath my bare feet.
“Many of you have faced me in battle,” Zev says, his voice hard. “Tonight, I fight beside you. If you can’t stomach that, then leave. Now.”
No one moves.
“Good. This woman”—he points to me—“is your future. Protecting her is everyone’s top priority. Understood?” I shoot him a scathing look but don’t say anything. Now’s not the time to undermine him.
The rebels all nod.
Zev raises a fist.
“Move out.”