CHAPTER 33 TYCHO
TYCHO
At first, the forge felt like a good hiding place, because the deep corners and shadowed overhang kept us out of sight.
Jax and the king once held the high ground from here, and they were able to fend off the Truthbringers as they came up the narrow lane, while I used my magic to set the woods on fire, fighting traitorous soldiers from behind.
But today’s battle is different. High ground doesn’t matter when your opponents can fly.
My magic is wild and unpredictable, too.
The wind and snow swirl around us like a blizzard.
Power is everywhere— in the air, in my veins, in my breath— but I’m unpracticed with this much of it.
It’s like trying to ride a wild stallion in the middle of a hurricane.
I have no idea how to control any of this.
Out of desperation, I try to call for fire, hoping to catch the trees around us so the scravers don’t have quite as much room to travel.
But when I try to summon a flame the way I’d light a campfire, lightning blasts from the sky to pierce the snow and scorch the ground in front of the forge, resulting in a tremendous thunder-crack that shakes the ground and makes Jax fall backward.
If nothing else, it makes the scravers retreat for a minute.
“Sorry!” I call to Jax. He’s six feet away from me, and at some point, a scraver must have gotten close enough to take a swipe at his arm.
Blood soaks his sleeve all the way down to his bracer, but it hasn’t affected his aim.
Despite the strong winds, Jax has a singular focus, and I don’t think he’s missed once.
But in our brief reprieve, I can see that his quiver is empty. His chest is heaving from the exertion, and only two arrows are left in his palm.
“Don’t be sorry!” he calls, scrambling back onto his feet. “Do it again!”
I do. This time the lightning bolt strikes a tree, and the upper branches explode in a rain of twigs and leaves and shards of wood that spray everywhere.
We duck back under cover, but the scravers screech again and take flight, going higher into the air to escape the falling debris, though I know it won’t last. Jax and I are both breathing hard, the wind still blowing snow everywhere.
I cast a quick look down the lane, peering through the weather.
I haven’t seen Malin or anyone from the bakery, so I have no idea if they’re fighting their own battles or if they even know a fight has begun— though there’s no way they haven’t heard this screeching.
If these scravers get past me and Jax, however, it’s only a matter of time before they take on Sephran— and the queen.
Then I realize scravers are ripping apart the doors to the barn.
They’re going after Nakiis and Igaa.
Wind blasts around me, and I try for another lightning strike, wondering if I can aim for the barn.
It works— kind of. I hit the barn itself. Wood explodes outward in the snow, but that’s all I can see before the scravers attacking us swoop down for yet another attack.
Swip. Swip. Jax shoots those two arrows in rapid succession. One
strikes a scraver square in the chest, and the creature jerks midair, then falls to the ground, screeching. The other one banks, dodging the arrow and snatching it out of the air.
Then it dives right for me, fangs bared, the steel- tipped arrow held straight out in front of it. We’re both out of arrows, and I think Jax shouts, but I’m too focused on the sparks of magic in my eyes and the sword in my hand.
But I don’t have to swing. An arrow catches it right in the neck, and the scraver cants sideways, then crashes into the forge, landing in a crumpled heap on the other side of Jax’s anvil.
I’m panting, but I look up to find Sephran in the doorway, a bow in his hands, the queen right behind him.
“Good?” he says.
“Yeah,” I say, a little dazed.
Beyond him, the air erupts with sound as more scravers fill the sky. Some are attacking the barn, and some are heading for us. More than ten. Dozens, maybe.
We’re never going to be able to handle them all. The wind is howling, their screeching so shrill my heart keeps stuttering, wanting to panic.
Stars burst in my vision, and wind blasts around us, my magic responding to my emotion.
“I’m out,” Jax calls, but I already knew. He has blades in hand, and I see his fingers flex on the hilts. I have no idea how skilled he is with a dagger, but I guess we’re all going to find out.
“I have four,” says Sephran, already lining up a shot, a second arrow pinned in his palm.
I think of lightning, and the sky flashes as a bolt cracks down to the earth, barely clipping a few branches that fall in a spray of sparks and flames.
Sephran swears and scrambles back against the doorway, but the scravers aren’t frightened this time.
Two dive at once, one aiming straight for Jax, the other aiming for Sephran.
He shoots, but the wind is too wild, and he’s not as good as Jax. The arrow narrowly misses.
But then a throwing blade comes from behind, slicing right into one of the scravers’ wings, quickly followed by another. The scraver shrieks and falls, just as another blade flies, trailed by an arrow that goes right into the chest of the second scraver.
Across the forge, Sephran looks up, and his eyes light with surprise, and then he grins. For days, they’ve been at odds, but just now, true relief washes across his expression.
I know that look of camaraderie when a soldier sees a friend in the thick of battle. I don’t even need the snow to clear to see who’s coming up the lane. Before I know it, I find myself smiling, too.
Mal, Alek, and Callyn have arrived.