Chapter 47 The Struggle
~ brEN ~
Akhane had been struggling for hours. Ever since that moment when we’d flown over the Vosgaarde border and something within both of us screamed.
A jolt of pain and fear that felt like someone trying to pull my heart from my chest—and Akhane shrieked.
She’d almost fallen out of the sky. Neither of us breathed right for minutes afterwards.
But even when she climbed back to a normal flying height, she panted with pain.
And it didn’t ease. I was desperately worried about her, but knew we were nearly home and I prayed we’d just make it that far and could get to the healers…
Yet, the moment her feet hit the ground in the launch hollow, I knew something was wrong.
Akhane stumbled, pitching forward with a scream and almost tumbled—a death sentence for me if she’d somersaulted, because her massive weight would have rolled right over me.
But she fought, shrieking, to keep herself upright, scrambling for purchase as we plowed across the bottom of the launch hollow and towards the opposing, uphill side—drawing shouts from Furyknights, whistles from dragons piercing the night around us.
I would have fallen more than once, but I’d twisted my arms into the neckstraps to keep me tighter against her back, knowing this would be a difficult landing.
Then, with a final groan and an earth-shuddering thud, Akhane staggered to a halt on the uphill slope of the launch hollow, her head down and wings trailing like blankets from her sides.
‘Get down, Bren. Now,’ she whispered in my head.
Near weeping with worry for her, I hurriedly untangled and unclipped, sliding down the dismount strap until I hit the earth near her feet and tumbled backwards myself on the uneven ground.
I was still righting myself, still swaying to my feet, when Akhane groaned again and collapsed.
I rushed to her, crying in earnest now. “Akhane! No! Akhane!”
I threw myself at her neck, slumped over her, very real tears squeezing out from under my eyelids. ‘Akhane—please. Tell me this is an act. Tell me—’
‘I cannot stand, Bren. I am… I am spent. I am hollow. My heart is hollow.’
I lifted my head to stare at her in horror, but that was the same moment several Furyknights reached us, shouting for their dragons to come help Akhane, pulling me from her neck, dragging me clear—obviously concerned she’d roll over on top of me, and crush me.
I screamed at them to let me go—not to separate me from her. I begged Akhane to lift her head and look at me. I struggled and fought, but I had no energy left.
At some point I found myself pressed into Ronen’s chest as he held me tightly, issued quiet orders to those nearby, and squeezed the back of my head.
“Bren… Bren, listen to me. I need to know what’s happened. Are you hurt? What happened to Akhane? How bad is it? Where is the Commander?”
And then, barely acting, because my heart felt shredded and my body trembled with weariness, I lifted my head, met his eyes, and didn’t even have to lie.
“Ruin… and Carnage… in Fyrehold… it was a trap. It was a fucking trap. I need… Oh, God!” I collapsed into his chest, face in my hands, sobbing.
Stern, solemn voices murmured and barked around me. I heard Akhane groan more than once—and felt the earth vibrate as other dragons rushed to join her.
There were hurried, hushed orders issued, and at some point, Ronen swept me up and carried me to the top of the launch hollow and sat me on the ground, among the roots of one of the big trees, letting me rest my back against its rough bark.
His expression was stern, but I saw the light of fear in his eyes.
“Bren… Bren, I need you to tell me what—”
“Bring Terra,” I breathed, wincing like it hurt to speak. “I need Terra.”
“She’s already on her way. And I’ve called Tato and Nila to help Akhane.”
“Help her!” I sobbed. “Help her. Losing our mates… Ronen… it’s…”
I dropped my face into my hands again, hating myself for putting Ronen through the shock. But Donavyn had been clear: No one but Shadowfang could know the truth. Only they would prioritize the people over the king.
I still believed Ronen would choose correctly, but I wouldn’t risk it.
I needed Terra. And the queen.
And I needed them yesterday.
‘Akhane, is this real? Are you faking at all?’
‘No, Little Flame. I am spent. But I will heal,’ she sent faintly. ‘Do not fear. Leave me to rest.’
Fear chittered in my chest, but we’d talked about it until the last couple of hours, when she was so tired, she didn’t even link with words.
My priority had to be to get in front of the queen.
And hers had to be to make it believable that our mates were dead.
I just prayed she hadn’t gone so far in expending herself that she’d harmed herself.
But then there was a shout, and a feminine-shaped shadow appeared on the edge of the launch hollow, sprinting to my side, and sliding to her knees, bag slung across her chest, her eyes wide and worried in the dark.
“Bren. Dear God, what happened?”
“I can’t… I need…” I trailed off into a fresh sob.
Ronen and the other Furyknights stepped back as Terra leaned over me, thumbing up my eyelids, checking my fingernails, which seemed odd, and leaning her head to my chest to hear my heart.
When she straightened again and started to unbutton my jacket, I caught her hands and she froze.
Our faces were bare inches apart. The men only feet away. But I whimpered so they would think I was in pain, then whispered under my breath.
“I need to speak with you. Alone.”
Terra blinked, then her eyes widened.
I swallowed and prayed the men couldn’t hear. “In the palace. As close to the queen as you can manage it.”
Terra stared at me, unmoving. “Can you walk?” she breathed.
“Yes, but it needs to look like I can’t.”
Terra blinked, then a moment later, leaped to her feet.
“Make sure Tato and Nila stay with Akhane, but get Bren up,” she snapped at Ronen.
He frowned, but gestured to one of the other Furyknights, who hurried forward without question.
Terra ignored Ronen’s questioning look. “She needs to be moving. Walking, to get her blood pumping. But she’s too weak.
Get her up, carry her if you have to, but leave her legs down.
Make her move them as best she can. Follow me. ”
Then, as they leaned down and each took one of my arms, hooking it over their shoulders and pulling me to my feet, Terra met my eyes, gave one, small nod, then gathered up her bag, turned on her heel, and started towards the trees—not the stable—and the path that would cut through the woods in a nearly direct line to the palace.
“Where are we going?” Ronen demanded. “The Academy—”
“She needs resources we only have in the Palace,” Terra said sharply, glaring at him over her shoulder. “Keep her moving and upright until I tell you it’s safe.”
When the door closed behind the men, Terra locked it and hurried back to the bed where I lay. I sat up—and swayed. She caught my shoulder to brace me, but didn’t chastise me.
“What the fuck is going on, Bren?” she hissed.
“Betrayal,” I whispered, eyeing the walls around us to keep her wary. “Bad news out of Fyrehold, but I can’t… I can’t talk in front of the men. Please,” I hissed. “I have to get a message to the queen. And only the queen. I can’t… I can’t be around the king or… or other men right now.”
I looked at her, praying she’d forgive me for the deception when this was all over, but knowing she’d be sympathetic—and attentive—if she believed I’d been betrayed by a man.
Without another word, she rose to her feet, trotted to the door, unlocked it and leaned out, murmuring something to someone in the hallway, then closed the door softly. It took her a moment to turn around, and when she did, her face was pale. “What the fuck is happening?”
“Can you get me to the queen?”
She nodded. “We have private physician’s rooms in their wing. I’ve just asked the men to transport you there. They think you’re injured in a way I don’t have the right tools for here. You need to be weak and… but Bren, what the fuck is going on?”
I shake my head. “Get me to her—tell her it’s an emergency, because it is. Tell her… tell her that the only female Furyknight brings news of great tragedy in Fyrehold. And she’s the only one who I can stand to share it with.”